1) If you know me at all, or have read even a few of my posts, you know that I hate to cook (I love to bake, however. Is that odd?)
2) Garlic bread is a delicate matter. It's not something you put in the oven and walk away from, which just doesn't work for me. If I can't walk away for a bit, then I'm not gonna' make it.
3) The last time I remember making garlic bread was for Henry, back when we were dating. I burned it to a complete crisp. He was gracious, of course, because I was just so wonderful in every other way (including humble).
4) I've been out of garlic powder for-like-ever.
Okay, so I bought some garlic powder, and last night was going to be the big night: Pasta with marinara and GARLIC BREAD. I must say, I was pretty excited.
Now before I go any further with this, I need all of you culinary snobs out there to just bite your tongue as I describe what went down, kapish?
Alright, instead of looking up in a cookbook what the proper broiling temperature would be for garlic bread, I thought I'd start off slow so as not to burn the bread (200 degrees slow, to be exact.) I put the bread in, and when I checked on it 10 minutes later, it was barely warmed up. And that's when I did it. Something I knew I shouldn't do, but I just did it anyway ... I turned the temperature up to 350 degrees without removing the bread first. I thought to myself, "If you don't take the bread out, it's gonna' burn because the heating elements are going to get too hot too fast." But then right after that I thought, "But it might go in my favor, just this once."
So you already know what happened. It burned. The girls were bummed. I was irritated, and vowed to never make garlic bread again! I also decided that my husband did not need to know what had taken place. He wasn't home for dinner, so why bother him with the details? Oh, and if I haven't mentioned it lately, he's a good cook. So, yeah, I had no intention of telling Mr. Iron Chef about the bread burning.
I thought that was the end of it.
I was wrong.
On the way home today ...
Amanda: Dad said that you're not supposed to turn up the temperature in the oven while you have food in there.
Me: What? You told your Dad?
Amanda: Yeah, so?
Me: For your information, I already know that I'm not supposed to do that, okay?
Amanda: Then why did you?
Me: Doesn't matter.
Whatever, right? Right.
I really thought it was over this time.
I was wrong.
Tonight Henry came home right as I was trying to figure out which can to open for dinner.
Me: Amanda wants garlic bread again, but I'm not really wanting to make that.
Henry: You know ...
Me: Yes, I KNOW. I know you're not supposed to increase the temperature in the oven while you've got food in it. That's right, she told me that she told you. And just so you know, anything you say to her WILL eventually get back to me.
I also told him that I'd promised Megan we wouldn't have pasta again, because she hated the pasta I made last night.
Henry: Really? She had like 5 or 6 bites of the pasta I made when we got home last night (while I was at a choir rehearsal.)
Me: Seriously? I give up.
Now, just because God loves me and wanted me to feel better, he allowed Henry to burn the bread tonight. It wasn't to the level of scorching that I achieved the night before, but the fact that it wasn't absolutely perfect was good enough for me!!