About a year ago, my sister and her boyfriend (now husband) moved into a
home with an electric range in their kitchen. So, last night (New Years
Eve), I was up until around 1:30am making food for my dad's birthday
party, which my sister and I made at her house tonight.
I cook with gas appliances; always have. So, the meatballs turned out
great. I tried a few for breakfast. Delicious! This afternoon, I loaded
the pot of meatballs into my car along with numerous other food items
and drove to Jan and Rob's house. I got there right on time.
I proceeded to put the pot of meatballs on my sister's range to warm
them up. I cranked up her electric range to about 75% of maximum. A few
minutes later, meatballs are bubbling away, so I turned off the heat. I
realized I was late picking up a friend from a nearby train station, so
I asked my sister to check on the meatballs, then I drove over to pick
up my friend. I also did the same thing with the pot of homemade mac &
cheese I made this morning.
My sister calls me on my cell phone just as I arrived at the train
station. Jan told me the meatballs are incinerated! I asked Jan to taste
one. She does. Disgusting. While I was looking for my friend at the
train station, Jan and Rob tried to wash off the meatballs, thinking it
was the sauce that was burnt. No go. Fortunately, the train station is
adjacent to a nice supermarket. My friend Jen and I went into the
supermarket and I picked up three of those roasted chickens, and a roll
of paper towels (that my sister requested).
I got back to Jan and Rob's a few minutes later and Jan showed me that I
must have not turned off the burner, as I thought I had. It was still
on, but not on the high setting. I had no idea because the red color of
the burner element went off, so I thought it was reasonably cool. If it
was gas, I could have easily seen that the burner was not off.
Fortunately, I did not make that mistake with the pot of mac & cheese,
so it came out fine and it was a big hit at the party.
My sister consoled me and she said it took her a while to get used to
her electric range. Rob, the philosophy teacher (literally), also tried
to console me, by explaining that the outcome was the same either way,
in that we all got to enjoy some great food and nice company and we all
had a nice time. But I would have much preferred not to have to spend an
extra $20 on dinner (which my sister thanked me for), and I would have
preferred those meatballs go into the guests' tummies rather than a
garbage disposal. I will deal with the burnt pot tomorrow!
Did I mention, I hate electric ranges? Whomever thought up the idea of
an electric range out to be slaughtered and forced to eat my burned
meatballs!