A Cooking Tale

I'd rather not tell this story, as it is embarrassing, but it's also funny (as most embarrassing stories are) so I might as well.

First, left me clarify that I do cook on a regular basis. I had a break from all my normal domestic duties while Dan was away to school, but other then that I'm not new to the kitchen or anything.

Also, since this story involves a gas oven, I should also mention that although I had an electric one in Goldsboro, I also has a gas one in Phoenix. Now that I've mentioned all that, on to what happened last night.

I wanted to make Dan a really nice dinner. Fix this man anything with meat and potatoes and he is a happy guy. So I did just that. But I also made cooked vegetables and cornbread. I mean, he works hard all day, so I was really trying to make him a nice big meal.

Once I had the meat all marinated and seasoned, I switched the oven to broil (it was aleady hot because I had just finished baking the cornbread). I also moved the top rack to as high as it would go, so the meat would be close to the broiler. Once I thought the broiler was ready I placed the meat in there to cook for a few minutes on either side.

When time was up, I took the meat out to serve. I wish I had taken a picture because the edges were browned but the center of this meat was pink. As in, still has a heartbeat pink. "I guess it's suppose to be rare," I thought

Okay, skip to the part where Dan comes home from work, and sees me taking the london broil out of the oven. I tell him he's just in time and everything is ready to go. We sit down to eat.

He is a good husband and comments on how good everything looks and smells. As we start eating, he also comments on the pink center of the meat. I tell him it's a London broil and I broiled it on either side as long as I was suppose too, so it must be right. He then asks why I was taking it out of the oven when he got home. (?) I politely :) ask what he is talking about. I mean, I have to stick it in the oven to cook (duh!- seriously, men sometimes....) He proceeds to tell me that the broiler is underneath the oven. (!) Ummmmmm................. *Please imagine my mouth hanging open like a fish*

You see, Dan grew up with a gas oven, and he knows how it works. I, on the other hand, grew up with electric and therefore I thought the broiler was in the same location in both ovens. So here's a little tidbit for ya: IT'S NOT! You know that cute little drawer at the bottom of the stove where you store all your extra pots and cooking trays? Well on a gas stove, that's the broiler. So therefore, not only did I have the meat in the the wrong part of the oven, I also had it as far away from the broiler as possible (think back to when I told you I put the rack as high as it would go).

So, I proceeded to turn the broiler back on, put the meat in the proper place, and low and behold- it cooked! Oh the joys of married life!