10 November 06
Soot on the Ceiling
Thank you, everyone, for leaving such wonderful suggestions about what to do with my elongated eggplants.
Today is Veterans’ Day, a new holiday for the State of California, and consequently for those of us who work for the University of California. I decided to tackle the alarmingly aging aubergines.
In the oven. I cut them up, marinated them in olive oil and garlic. Then popped them in the oven at 350. I didn’t have to decide right away what to do with them: I’d just get them cooked and worry about it later.
An odd smell emerged from the oven, but that’s to be expected. We never turn it on in summer. This is the first time the oven’s actually been lit since, oh, maybe April, and then it was just the broiler. Probably.
Went outside to walk the cats.
Came back in. The cobwebs on the ceiling were black. There was black on the stovetop. The cats’ feet were suddenly black. It smelled like walking carcinoma.
I turned off the oven.
About twenty cremated hazelnut corpses lined the broiler tray: they looked like the mummies in Pompeii.
The eggplants are now officially inedible, and I spent a second bout of cleaning the stove, mopping the floor, and washing all the rugs.
Phooey, as they say.
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Awwwww, nuts.
But WHY? Was the oven too hot? For too long? I can’t say aubergine without laughing because once, a friend of mine who was getting on a bit in years greeted me at the door with “Hello Aubergine!” when he meant, of course, Augustine.
oh, no, what a pity! were they for too long in the oven, or was it too hot? next year you will have more… hugs!
Have done this myself Pica but we have smoke alarms which alert a security company who have to call to see if we are OK. Mortifying trying to explain.
About twenty cremated hazelnut corpses lined the broiler tray: they looked like the mummies in Pompeii.
That’s not supposed to be funny, but you had me laughing hysterically when I read that! What a gruesomely delightful image.