Fire is hot.
Soup is cold.
There was a point earlier this primarily cold and rainy summer when I wouldn't have believed that I'd ever be thinking that it's just too darn hot to cook. Too hot to eat, sleep, or do anything but seek refuge in the corner of our kitchen near our pitifully overtaxed AC unit. Well, my friends, that time is now.
P and I have unearthed some great recipes that involve minimal ingredients and/or cooking. This is key, as I have just learned that fire is, indeed, quite hot. I say this in reference to my new gas stove and oven, which use actual fire to cook. Yes, yes, I know that I am supposed to prefer gas to electric, but even little flames seem to be super hot, and I have that Sesame Street vignette of the lady in the kimono bathrobe setting herself on fire while reaching for her teapot ingrained in my head. Will that be me? Will I burn all the hair off my arm lighting the stove as my 8th grade Earth Science lab partner did with our bunsen burner? It's entirely possible, as I find myself constantly removing pieces of paper, potholders, glasses of wine, etc. from the proximity of the (fiery) burner.
[Note: Did I make up that episode of Sesame Street? Sometimes that show really freaked me out.]
Anyway, I need to get a thermometer that measures the actual oven temperature because all temperatures seem to be "superhothothot" no matter the degree that I dial it to. Also, P and I need to devise a strategy to keep the smoke detectors from going off in our new apt when we use the superhothothot setting. We set them off for the first time last night, and let's just say a gal with a shoulder impingement shouldn't be fanning a smoke detector 10 feet over her head.
So, dear readers, I pose the following questions:
- Any ideas for jerry rigging a ventilation strategy for an apt that has none?
- Have a recommendation for a good oven thermometer?
- Can you help me overcome the bunsen burner PTSD and use my gas range with confidence?