I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not the best cook in the kitchen. I will also admit I’m a tad clumsy. I think it runs in the family – my cousin, Georgia must have the same gene! ha ha Love you Georgia!
I recently bought a big bag of chicken leg quarters for super cheap and I found a recipe that I thought would work well. Garlic Roasted Chicken & Potatoes.
It seemed simple enough and I had all the stuff it called for. I mentioned I was clumsy, right?
The recipe calls to take it out when the juices run clear so I got my handy-dandy oven mit set. You know, the set where one hand is completely safe and the other – well – good luck.
I had just put Jackson in his high chair because he had been whining underneath me – constantly. When I’m working in the kitchen, he thinks it must be time to eat. You’ve seen my son. He enjoys his dinners.
He also has a fascination with the oven and dishwasher. Whenever one is open, he comes running. So, I plopped him up in the high chair and gave him some food so I could “work” in peace.
Back to the chicken. The oven is heated to 400 degrees – crazy hot. Not to mention, the house is like 85 with the oven on. I pull out the dish and it slipped a bit – just enough to touch the palm of my hand – the hand that is not nestled safely inside an oven mit. Please, remind me to go buy another full handed oven mit! So all the weight of this 400 degree dish is in the palm of my hand – of course I’m going to drop it!
I screamed in pain and then the heavy baking dish lands with a huge crash on the oven door. Jackson has no idea what happened – and he has never heard me scream like that. So of course he started crying. He was completely inconsolable. There’s food all over the now greasy and very slippery floor and I’m holding Jackson in one arm while trying to run some water over my burnt hand.
I rescued some of the food but everything that touched the floor was either eaten by Sammie, our dog, or thrown in the garbage.
I really hate wasting food.