Yes ...the smoke pouring out of the kitchen means dinner is absolutely done. Oven friend chicken that smells wonderful but wont be as special when the crew gets back from church tonight and it's cooled and coagulated. Too bad I had to send them off with growly tummy's and PBJ's because the dinner wasn't done at 4:30. I guess the good news is that I have the three desperadoes here to guard me and shoot at the crazy English/Spanish smoke detectors that keep going off and warning us to "immediately leave the building!".
Cant believe I told them that it was OK to shoot them with their nerf guns - but that's just where I am at tonight. If it ain't a serious crisis - I'm not reacting. No room for the weak hearted - tonight we are all just being real.

1 comment:
We had a perfectly lovely prime rib at my aunt's 90th birthday party Saturday. The cooking method, as described by my cousin's wife: "Put the roast in the oven at 450 until the smoke alarm goes off. Then turn it down to 200 for a few more hours." Not quite what her recipe had suggested, but it came out perfect.
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