lauren; 634,983 . oven; 1

the kitchen is my place of therapy. 

when i'm feeling stressed, upset, sad or otherwise less than joyous, i remedy that by creating something in the kitchen.

a pan of cookies, a giant pot of chili, cinnamon buns, a delicious stir fry are all examples of things i've made to get my mind off of other things. i like making things that are meticulous. things that take a lot of chopping, stirring, mixing; things that take a lot of time.

i made cinnamon buns on saturday night, something i haven't done in a long time, but something my roommates and friends have always looked forward to. i don't mean to brag, but i have really great buns. (i had to. i had to!) 

anyways. no matter how many times i make the cinnamon buns, i always forget to leave more space between them. they get all big and puffy in the oven, and when they do, the caramel underneath them gets pushed up, and out, and into the oven. making things smokey. and kinda yucky smelling. 

so, inevitably, it happened on saturday night. i went into the kitchen to get on the buns, and when i opened the open, smoke poured out. i put a big cookie sheet under the pan of buns, hoping to catch future caramel drips, closed the oven, and thought nothing of it.

five minutes later. i hear something funny in the kitchen. i open the oven, and there are FLAMES! flames, people. flames, orange & frightening, licking the bottom of the cookie sheet. 

holy bananas!! i screamed, "there's a fire in the oven!!" 

after laughing and panicking and a general hub-bub, i put it out. 

whew.

seriously.

a fire.

in my oven!

good news; the cinnamon buns turned out absolutely delectable. 

maybe the flames did 'em good. a little final broil for those babies.

p.s. i actually cannot believe i missed the entire month of february.

i'm absolutely ashamed of myself.

and i'm back.

i'm back.