Posts Tagged ‘steam steriliser’
Heroically, I reached into the chamber, grabbed a corner of the cloth, and pulled it out. Fortunately, the microwave is on the counter near the kitchen door which opens directly onto our concrete patio, so it should have been no trouble simply opening the door and tossing the burning pillow-case out dr brown microwave sterilizer. But there’s many a slip twixt cup and lip!
I got the door open alright, but when I hurriedly tossed the pillowcase out, a flaming piece of it stayed behind and landed on the floor. My first instinct was to step on the errant cloth and grind it into ashes on the ceramic-tile floor, but I was barefoot and resisted the impulse. Instead, I reached down and picked it up.
Don’t misunderstand. I wasn’t trying to cook the pillowcase. I was just trying to sanitize it, so I could put the okara in it. You see, okara has to be dried before you make pancakes with it, and I thought it might be a good idea to use the clothes drier. A cotton pillowcase seemed an ideal container, but not without some kind of sterilization first. Enter, the microwave.
Anyway, I had hardly sat down at the computer when my nasal smoke detector picked up the warning. Rushing to the kitchen, I found the whole room enveloped in smoke. It was so thick my gold fish were choking. I groped my way to the microwave and opened it. The pillowcase, which – before I opened the door – had been smoking but only smoldering without oxygen – now exploded into flame.
That’s what happened yesterday. During the process of making okara I got distracted a bit by my computer after I had put a pillowcase in the microwave, set it on high, timed it for five minutes, and went into my den to check my email.
Blinded by blood, choked by smoke, and with a flaming cloth welded to my fingers, I staggered to the sink and torqued open the cold water tap to soak my burning fingers and wet a hand towel so I could stem the flow of blood from my head wound.
That was a mistake too. The pillowcase must have had some acrylic content because a molten mass of plastic as big as a pair of coffee grounds glued itself to my fingers. Ouch! I cursed under my breath and straightened up quickly. As I did, the top of my head made sharp, painful contact with the open microwave door on the counter. It didn’t hurt the door, but cut my scalp and released a river of blood down my forehead. Another curse – louder this time.
I am really a very good cook, but I am also a ‘multi-tasker’ and sometimes after I put a pot of rice or spaghetti on the burner, I get involved with something else while I wait for it to cook. I don’t use mechanical timers because my nose tells be when it’s done. I am particularly sensitive to the smell of smoke and can usually get to the stove in time to salvage the stuff in the top-half of the pot. Anything burned on the bottom is too hard to scrape off anyway, and I swear I never serve food that has even the slightest tinge of brown.
My three sons all swear that I burn everything I cook. It’s not true. Maybe the toast is a little too dark, the egg yolks too hard, and the steaks kind of leathery, but I seldom serve anything that’s actually burned.