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That’ll Show Me for Thinking I Made Progress April 5, 2009

Posted by A. Robinson in From the Kitchen, Life.
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So, I sort of filled my apartment with smoke the other day.

I mean, nothing actually CAUGHT FIRE or anything, which is more than I can say for the neighbors (or my toaster).  However, in my endeavours to make a delicious apple tart, there were some…issues.

Let’s begin at the beginning, shall we?  I recently received a KitchenAid stand mixer, which is amazing and wonderful and everything it’s cracked up to be.  Anyway, this mixer came complete with a recipe book.  I let John look through it, and he immediately picked a completely intimidating dessert–an apple tart.  This tart involved lots of apples, some sort of streusel topping, and a pie crust.  Scary!

Anyway, one lazy afternoon I decided what the heck?  How bad could this possibly go? I’ll just whip me up an apple tart! Within five minutes I had already sliced open my finger trying to core an apple. Right then I should have known this would end badly. In the prep process, things were unsteady:

1. I cut my finger, and
2. Subsequently bled on an apple
3. I forgot to soften the butter for the strusel and had to put the whole concoction in the microwave so I could mix it
4. I broke my apple slicer, only to spend 15 minutes realizing it wasn’t broken at all but could easily be fixed by John in .5 seconds
5. I cut too many apples, so I had to eat the rest myownself

After much ado, the tart finally went in the oven. I set the timer and prepared my tastebuds for a magical carpet ride of apple-y goodness. About five minutes into the cooking process I peeked in the oven and noticed something that looked wet on the cookie sheet. I figured it was just something I splashed on there, so I continued on my merry little way.

Ten minutes later something smelled funny. I sniffed the air, thinking that it was our neighbors again setting something on fire. I glance at the stove and notice that there is SMOKE. SMOKE coming out of a BURNER. I rush over to the kitchen (5 giant steps!) and pull open the oven door. Plumes of smoke as thick as concrete come pouring out of the oven and into our small one-bedroom apartment.

In a panic I pull out the tart and stick it on the stovetop and then slam the oven door shut. John has already noticed and has opened up the windows. I prop open the door as he begins to fan our smoke detectors and actually have to place a small oscillating fan in the doorway to help clear the air.

This is what I would call a baking FAIL. But hey, at least the thing didn’t burst into flames. Right?

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Comments»

1. lindseybunny - April 6, 2009

how did it taste?

2. dorianagraye - April 6, 2009

Yeah, it was super delicious. 🙂


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