Saga of a Clean Oven and the Aftermath

Since we will soon be showing our house, I thought it was about time I cleaned the oven. People always seem to open the oven when looking over a house and I was not going to be embarrassed by a dirty oven.

The oven is self-cleaning, but don't believe that. There is always grease and grime left after the self-cleaning and, besides, the racks had to be cleaned separately. Apparently, the self-cleaning destroys the finish on them. After an entire day self-cleaning and, elbow greasing the oven, and using Easy-off to clean the racks, the oven looked brand, spanking new. There was no way this oven was ever going to be used again until the house is sold. I'd just have to find another way to cook.

So...the next day I went shopping for a solution. I found it in a counter top Hamilton Beach counter oven. This spiffy little number can bake and broil, be used as a convection oven, and has a rotisserie to cook a small chicken. That night, after setting up the oven, I tested it by broiling some chicken breasts. They turned out wonderfully--nice and juicy with just a bit of crispness around the edges—just the way I like them.

Later that week, I wanted to make some Snickerdoodle cookies. I whipped up a batch and placed them in the oven at 350 degrees (like the recipe suggested) for 10-12 minutes. After 10 minutes, the tops were nice and browned so I took them out of the oven. They smelled heavenly. Unfortunately, after letting them sit on the cooling rack for the suggested minute, I spatula ed them off the sheet. The cookies looked odd when I placed them onto a plate. The top was nicely baked but the bottom was almost raw, and the cookies were very thin. I put cookie sheet after cookie sheet into the oven to bake and they all came out the same way. After cooking the cookies tasted fine but unusual in texture. The top was nice and crispy but the bottom was chewy. We ate them anyway—they were edible just odd looking.

I wondered then if there was something wrong with the oven but the chicken had turned out great. The only explanation is that maybe I had done something wrong with the recipe. I had not used stick margarine, as the recipe said to do, I used tub margarine which doesn't have as much fat content. Maybe that's why they didn't turn out.

On Friday, I wanted to make some oven-baked french fries to accompany the the flounder I pan seared. When I set the temperature, my eye was drawn to the selection knob for the type of cooking I wanted to do. As soon as I noticed where the indicator was on the knob, I knew what happened to the cookies! The knob was still on broil from when the chicken breasts were broiled! The cookies had been broiled not baked. How could I have been so stupid as to not check the selection knob?

Yesterday, I make another batch of Snickerdoodles using stick margarine and, to my relief, they turned out just they way they have all the other times I baked them—with that one exception when I broiled them! Ted just smiled and said the new batch tasted almost as good as the previous one but not as chewy.

Happy Mother's Day

It's been quite a while since I've posted so today I am going to share a story with you about my mother.

My mother has been dead for nine years, and I still miss her. I wonder if they will ever be a time when I don't feel as though she is waiting for me. Waiting for me to call her, waiting for me to take her food shopping, waiting for me to take her to the library, but especially waiting for me to visit her in the nursing home.

We were fortunate to have our mother for 86 years. Mom became a widow at the age of 49, and never remarried. Oh, she had boyfriends but never felt the need to get married again. The stories I could tell about her one boyfriend would fry your hair, but that's for another time. Basically, our mother had a healthy life. She did have quite a few mini-strokes along the way, but no major ones until later. Only the last few years did she develop vascular dementia from all the mini-strokes that ate at her brain cells. Even after the vascular dementia there were times when she was completely lucid and still silly.

I can truthfully tell you that most of the time my mother was a pleasure to be around. She was funny, silly, and told great big lies. I think she even believed them! She was also a shoplifter. Not a kleptomaniac because she was quite aware of what she was doing. She was very lucky never to be caught--that I know of!

One time I was an innocent partner in her crime. We had been food shopping and, while placing the bags in the trunk, something fell out of my blazer pocket. On the ground lay a tube of toothpaste. I asked Mom where that came from, and she told me that she had put it in my pocket at the check-out counter. No way would I go back in the store and admit my mother had stolen it, but I wanted to know why she did it. Apparently, she thought the price was too high and felt the store was taking advantage of people. Then, in her pocket I saw a magazine--also stolen. I told her if she did that anymore I wouldn't take her food shopping again. To my knowledge, she was good from there on. My older brother used to take her food shopping but refused to do it anymore. He never told me why (I thought he was too busy) but now I bet she did the same thing with him.

Those are are just a few memories of my mother. I am chuckling as I type about the shoplifting because it is so her.

For all those who still have a mother, hug her for me. For those whose mothers are gone, write down a story you remember about her and share it with your family. Hopefully, it will bring a smile to their faces while remembering.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom, wherever you are – and I hope you have wings.