Burnin down the house

This is the state of my oven at least twice a week.

No, I'm just kidding. (sorta)

We've coined the phrase around here, "You'll know dinners ready when you hear the smoke alarm."

I took this picture one night this summer when Trace came running in telling me the oven was on fire. (And no, I don't let me child play in the oven, he saw it roaring through the window)

So, a couple of days ago, I got my Southern Living magazine. My sweet MIL got a subscription for me and I really enjoy the recipes and attempting to duplicate them! ha!

The March edition was all about Charleston. I've never been there but have always dreamed of going. Jimmy's Aunt Charlotte is from there and she is the perfect image of a true Southern Belle. I could sit and listen to her talk for hours.

Anyway, last night I attempted to make 2 Charleston dishes, Sizzling Flounder and Bacon Fried Okra. (I can't even type the word without saying Chhaaaleston in my mind. Does anybody else do that?)

The word "Sizzling" in the recipe title should have been my first clue that this probably wasn't going to go well, but trying to be more healthy and find new ways to prepare fish, I threw caution to the wind, grabbed my fire extinguisher and went to town.

Step one: Move one rack in oven 5 inches below heat source (to broil)... oh dear
Step two: Pour 1 cup butter (so much for healthy) into baking dish and heat in oven for 8 minutes until melted and beginning to brown (they left out the part about spitting and splattering hot melted butter all over your face when you go to get it out of the oven)

Between the Sizzling Flounder in my oven and the Bacon Fried Okra on my burner, my kitchen looked like a scene from Backdraft. I'm so caught up in reading the recipe repeatedly (because this can't possibly be right) that I'm hardly noticing the smoke that is beginning to engulf my house.

Trace is in the living room playing and Jimmy's in the office working. He is so used to this scenario, he doesn't even come out to see what's happening. (He just opens his office window for some fresh air! ha!)

All of a sudden, Trace calls out, "Mommy, turn on the air!" I look up to find that he has gone and turned on the ceiling fan in the living room and I can barely see him through the cloud of smoke. I ask him, "What are you saying buddy?" (I couldn't hear him above all the sizzling and spitting butter) He repeats himself 2 more times before Jimmy yells from the office. "Heidi, he's telling you to turn on the oven fan!" Ohhh... why hadn't I thought of that?

Sadly, he has already learned at 3 that when mommy cooks, you need to have both the ceiling and oven fans on and the patio doors open wide. I guess I need to teach him how to call the fire department before I plan on serving Sizzling Flounder again.

I've always told Jimmy that for my birthday or Christmas present, I would love to take cooking classes at Mia Cucina. I think after last night's meal, for the safety of our home, child, and dog... I just might get em!

We'll be eating at Ryan's tonight if anyone wants to join us :)