Virginia Tadrzynski > wrote in message
...
> Our Scoundrel Buddy, Dimitri, got us all thinking
> about our proudest moment. Here's a flip......what
> is your most memorable faux pas? [snip]

The fall wind whipped through the canopy of laced branches,
swirling royal browns, bright oranges, crimson reds, and mild
ocher into a blizzard of leaves.

I hunched deeper into my jacket and reshouldered the bag of
groceries. "She's really going to love this..." I bragged
aloud.

"Uh-huh. And you know this because?" Delta asked between
chattering teeth and body-shivers.

"I've already done it once," I smiled over at my niece. "Worked
all the bugs out last time. I'll use less garlic this time."

"That'll help," she quipped. "You don't do garlic well."

"Shut-up... No foo' for you!"

"That okay. Dean's picking me up at 6. It'll spare me having to
listen to you two."

"Dean... Dean... Which one is he again? Friday? Saturday? There
are soooo many..."

"You're a mean old man, Unc..."

"And damned proud of that fact. It takes years to get to this
level."

We got to our apartment and I fumbled with the
company-maintained locks. "I should have grandpa come over and
'improve' these."

"The manager would have a calf right on our porch. The ol'
cow's still mooing over him fixing the overhead [fan]..."

"Let her. Veal."

Delta simply walked past me and into the landing. I headed to
the galley kitchen and started unloading the bag onto the army
olive Formica. Three beautiful slices of lamb shoulder. My
latest living herb addition, basil. A lemon. A bulb of elephant
garlic. Basmati rice and saffron. I reached into the pantry and
pulled out a bottle of Greek olive oil, an impulse purchase
from our latest pilgrimage to Draeger's, and a skillet to
quick-fry the lamb.

"Don't forget the burner on the stove burns hot."

"Yeah, yeah. I've only lived her longer than you..."

Quiet returned. I added enough oil to the skillet and turned on
the burner. I moved all the ingredients over to the stove prep
area and waited for the oil to heat up to the proper
temperature.

"I'm outa here."

"Later. When're you coming in?"

"I'll call if I'm going to be real late, 'dad.'"

"Be nice..." I warned.

"11."

"Late," and the front door snicked closed.

Whisps of smoke started to rise from the oil in the pan.
"Perfect!" I turned the burner down to low and put the lid on
the skillet. I continued seasoning the lamb; salt, pepper,
lemon, zest, crushed garlic... I was pleased with the looks and
smells moving about the little kitchen and reached for the lid.

FWOOOM!

Flames blew up and over the lid the moment air streamed in
through the cracks. I dropped the lid immediately, looking at
the curled hairs on my arm vying for attention against the
cherry-red skin. I blistered the air with some impossibly
colorful metaphors walked over to the sink. "That's going to
hurt for a while."

After a few more minutes of rinsing the pain away under the
kitchen faucet, I turned back to the stove. In my absent-minded
state, I'd forgotten to turn the stove off and noticed black
smoke curling out of the skillet, over the lid, and straight up
into the ceiling. "Oh, damn!" A new Costco purchase proved
handy: an 8" CO2 extinguisher was right by the sink. I pulled
the pin and fired two quick volleys stoveward.

SSSSSSHHHH! SSSSSHHHHHH!

Lid, skillet and flaming oil blew off the burner and clattered
against the tile backsplash.

"Whoa!" I watched the lit oil coil up and down the backsplash
and towards the overhead fan pulling the smoke and CO2 into
it's filter. I fired the extinguisher two more times.

SSSSHHH! SSSSSHHHH!

White powder now swallowed black smoke.

The flame went out, too. I looked around the kitchen. White
powder not only circulated through the tiny kitchen, it covered
everything in it; canisters, cupboards, sink, meat.

I was laying out another string of profanity when the front
door opened.

"What the..."

"There was a problem with tonight's dinner..."

"Uh, yeah? Com'on out and see the rest of the apartment."

I looked around the corner into the living room and then at the
doorway. White particles swirled with black smoke. <sigh> "I
can explain..."

SWMBO listened patiently and then started to laugh. "Well, it
was memorable. Wait 'til I tell Delta."

I've been living it down more ever since. And family get
togethers are very painful when Delta talks about it.

The Ranger