Sundays are always "stay-in" night, especially on the weekends that Derek works. I usually find a new recipe to try and cook for us. Sundays are our favorite day of the week, because regardless what is planned, we always have plenty of
Well yesterday, I was cooking Chicken Pot Pie. For some reason, I have always had a desire to cook this and after getting all the ingredients last week, I thought the pot pie would be the perfect comfort food and complement to our Sunday.
I must add that last week, Derek and I got a couple of strip steaks and due to the 1,000 inches of snow outside, we had to broil the steak in the oven. Another detail that you must know, is that these steaks were marinaded....so we broiled these steaks, the marinade then dripped all over the oven. I made a mental note that this oven would have to be cleaned before the next use...oops forgot about this note to myself.
SO- back to Sunday. I start with the recipe by preheating the oven to 375, check, everything going well so far. But then I notice one of the burners on the stove smoking. "Weird", I thought, none of the burners are on, why is there smoke. Well after starting the chicken, vegetables, etc. in a boil, I open the oven to put the bottom pie crust in for a brief 2 minutes before putting the mixture in it, when all of this smoke comes pouring out.
"WOW, I forgot about the steak marinade that is probably causing all this smoke, crap!" Well I don't know if dogs have a sixth sense or whatever, but Brutus starts FAAAREAKING out. He is literally shaking and his tail is so far down that it looks like he doesn't have a booty anymore (I am assuming this is all due to the smoke in the apartment). ANYWAY, he rings the bell to go outside. Assuming he has to use the bathroom, I open the door, and the little dog TAKES OFF. I mean gone, ran away, can't find him anywhere! So side note- I have shorts and t-shirt on and it is like -50 outside (ok- a bit of a exaggeration, but definitely needed for this drama story). I keep calling his name but he is not coming back!
I throw on my boots start running outside to find him. Meanwhile, I have an oven smoking and a pot boiling on the stove. Oh and a puppy on the lose. I am outside with my summer clothes on and yelling my puppy's name. AHHHH, no where to be found. I think I felt like a mom whose kid is suddenly not on the playground. "Where did he go, is he going to come back, will he find some random food to eat that will later upset his stomach, will he have to spend the night alone out in the cold?" FINALLY, I see him and he is just hunkered down waiting for me. He knows he is IN.BIG.TROUBLE. but does not want to go back to our smoky house.
So now, I have the dog back inside but trying to deal with the supper. I turn off the oven, turn off the stove, and decide is the best time to clean the oven...right? Well I get the oven cleaner and spray it in the oven and then it all comes back in my face, down my throat, and into my lungs. "Great". Now there are oven cleaning fumes AND smoke throughout the apartment. I open the door, patio, and windows, grab Brutus, take us in the bedroom, close all the doors, and swallow my pride....I make a call to my husband and say "Babe, can you pick up dinner for us?"....
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