sadatx

I was cutting slices of cheese for a sandwich tonight. Using my chef's knife I had the blade facing towards me as I was doing it. I realize how stupid it is to cut something that requires pressure with the blade facing you and how most people probably don't cut cheese with a very large very sharp knife. I realized this as I was doing it. I even said to myself "Hey, you know what self, this knife is surely going to slip and hurt you in some uncomfortable way, you should probably stop." Then I thought, if this was a cooking show you'd have to tell the audience that they shouldn't try this at home and you'd have to show them the proper way to cut cheese. Then I thought, you're such a good cook you could do a cooking show one day. Then I thought, wow this tuna melt's (I was making a tuna melt) it's gonna be so good. Then the knife slipped and the blade went flying into my finger.

Luckily my finger bone stopped the knife from lopping off my entire digit. I looked down and for a brief second even though there wasn't any blood at first I had the distinct feeling that this could not be good thing.

As the blood began to flow I ran to the bathroom, keeping my other hand cupped underneath the wound so as not to make a mess, and proceded to wrap my finger in as much medical tape I could find. And, after a few attempts, I even got the tape to stick despite the copious amount of blood.

So, after all was said and done and I was sitting in front of the T.V. eating my tuna melt (I did finish making it) trying to get a good grip on the sandwich with my overly bandaged finger, I suddenly got the idea for this thread.

So here it is. My worst kitchen disaster story (the previous anecdote was only an aperitif):

I was sauteeing a steak one night for just myself (maybe it was a chicken breast, I don't remember) in a heavy bottomed (important to know since it holds heat very well) sautee pan (even more important to know since water evaporates in a sautee pan much more quickly than say in a frying pan) over my gas stove (important! there's fire involved in this here story). Being a novice at pan sauces, which is a sauce made in a pan that you've just cooked meat or fish in, I decided that tonight was the night that I was going to make a pan sauce to end all pan sauces. "The best pan sauce in all the world!" I declared as I sauteed my steak over very high heat (another important point to remember).

So, at this point, the steak was nearly done and I went to get the red wine to deglaze the pan with (deglazing: pouring liquid into a pan you have just cooked a meat in, after you've removed the fat, in order to loosen the charred bits that are stuck to the bottom).

Aw, but then it hit me. I didn't have any red wine. "No pan sauce for you!" I thought, saddened by this tragic realization. I was sulking back to the stove when I felt a strong force pull me towards my freezer. I opened it up and a light bulb went on.....inside the freezer. "Of coures! I have Vodka. Not just vodka, Russian Vodka." Russian vodka from Russia. I can use Vodka. Yeay!

Perfect. How could I go wrong? I quickly whipped out the vodka bottle and poured out a full one half cup in my Emsa measuring beaker (don't ask me why I choose to use 1/2 cup, you might as well ask me why I cut my finger). I then removed the steak from the pan and turned on my stove's exhaust fan (which turned out to be the smartest thing I did) due to the cloud of smoke around my stove. I poured the scalding hot fat out of the pan and set the pan back on the flame.

And the stage was set.

And there I was. Vodka in hand.

And this is the point where I DEGLAZE AN EXTREMELY HOT SAUTEE PAN SITTING ON AN OPEN FLAME WITH A 1/2 CUP OF VODKA.

And this is the point where I realize why I've heard about people deglazing a pan with wine (13% alcohol by volume) but not hard liquor (my vodka: 40% alcohol by volume).

So I poured the vodka in all at once. There was an instant nuclear mushroom cloud of steam. Now I could have immediately turned of the burner or, I don't know, poured water into the pan, or simply run away. But, instead, I quickly jerked the pan off the flame and that's when I heard it

BOOM

I felt an intense heat and I jumped back. And in front of me I saw a billowing inferno. It wasn't flames. It wasn't a wall of fire. It was like a fire ball you see in movies when something explodes. Except it wasn't in a movie. It was in my kitchen. On top of my stove. Working its way up the duck hunting scene painted on the tiles on my wall.

Quickly thinking of the best way to deal with the situation I ran and grabbed my fire retardent blanket to muffle it, then fast as lighting filled up a bucket of water, then hit the speed dial on my phone for the fire department in case this got out of hand.

Or at least, I should have done something like that...

Instead, I stood there and mumbled to myself "HLOY FUCKING SHIT." That's right, I was so dumbstruck I mispronounced holy.

So it was a good thing the exhaust fan suddenly kicked in. The fireball suddenly disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, having been sucked up through the exhaust and shot out into the fresh air in front of my house in the form of a thick cloud of black smoke.

Seeing that the danger had passed I snapped to and did a quick check to make sure everthing was in tact. And with the exception of the singed hair on my arms, the vague smell of singed hair, and the tiny flames dancing themselves to death at the mouth of the exhaust fan, everything was.

Even the base of the pan sauce had survived. Say what you will about kitchen explosions, in the end, that was some good deglazing that happened there (of course, I kid, you really shouldn't try this at home). So I got back to finishing what I had started out to do. 'Cause, honestly, even though it had just been surrounded by fire, the steak was getting awful cool.

After all was said and done I sat down to enjoy the steak with pan sauce I had finished making. And, you know, it was pretty darn good.



So please post your worst kitchen disaster story. And don't think it has to involve injury. It's whatever you consider to be a disaster. Because hey, out of great pain comes great stories.