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Thursday, 30 January
Self-Mutilation As Scotch-Delivery Strategy

When cooking chicken, as with anything, presentation is important. When removing the skillet from the oven, place it carefully on the stove top.

Then remove the chicken breasts to a platter to rest while you prepare the pan sauce. Tent the chicken lightly with some foil, and then turn around to the skillet on the stove. Grip its 450-degree handle with your bare hand. This is important, and it's a step sadly neglected by many chefs.

With the skillet now firmly in hand, take a millisecond to realize what a goddam moron you are. You can do it! Then simply drop the radioactive goddam fucking skillet onto the kitchen floor; when done properly, white-hot beads of chicken fat should fly onto the floor, the cupboards, your pants, and maybe your small child. Scream.

I want to emphasize this. Your scream is very important; it should reflect your basic personality. What are you going to scream? Is it "FUCK!"? Is it "FUCKING FUCK!"? Own your scream. Personally, mine is the very evocative syllable "GAAAAAA!"

The scream serves many functions. One is to alert the neighborhood that you are a moron who grabs incredibly hot objects. Now they know. Another function is to scare your significant other witless and then cause her to run about distractedly bringing you wet towels, Advil, scotch, ice, Neosporin, scotch, more ice, and panicky medical advice. Take a moment to appreciate your significant other and her concern for you, and remember for the future that if you're ever feeling too lazy to go pour yourself a scotch, you could always just burn yourself severely, and she will come running. Good to know.

Later, after dinner (during which your tireless significant other was pressed into service to cut up your chicken, which made you feel five years old), mewl softly into successive scotches and melt thirty-six bags of ice in your hand. It's all part of the process.

Tomorrow, the real fun begins. In the shower. After you've kind of forgotten that you'd burned your hand. Make sure the water is extra-hot. And oh, you're going to need that scream again.


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Comments

"GAAAAAA!"

Comment number: 000310   Posted by: iceberg273 on January 31, 2003 07:21 AM from IP: 35.12.24.192

Yow! (Yeah, that's a pretty weak scream.) Pobrecito! Hope y'all heal soon, and take comfort from the fact that your recounting of your pain - although certainly not the pain itself! - brought much mirth. Chin up, soldier!

Comment number: 000311   Posted by: Elayne Riggs on January 31, 2003 10:20 AM from IP: 216.223.202.162

If your fiancée was half the woman that I am, she'd have taken that burn for you, Skooter. What's a fine man like you doing in the kitchen, anyway? You should be letting me do all your cooking as well as the cleaning, marketing, paying your bills, and laundering your unmentionables.

Comment number: 000312   Posted by: DesperatelySeekingSkot on January 31, 2003 10:58 AM from IP: 216.181.58.90

So, um, what appendage do you have to scorch to get pwim?

Comment number: 000316   Posted by: TheBrad on January 31, 2003 10:32 PM from IP: 64.218.90.6

Sometimes I worry about myself.

Upon reading this entry's opening sentences twice, I saw this:

"When cooking chldren, as with anything, presentation is important. When removing the skillet from the oven, place it carefully on the stove top. Then remove the children breasts to a platter to rest while you prepare the pan sauce"

I just had to share.

Comment number: 000317   Posted by: taz on January 31, 2003 11:50 PM from IP: 213.16.244.209

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