Saturday, August 29, 2009

Breaking Cookies Sheet News

Since I last roasted tomatoes to can (Friday, August 21) one of the cookie sheets has remained on the kitchen counter, with a greasy scummy layer of soapy water, “soaking” to facilitate cleaning the caramelized remains. It has remained there exactly 7 days today.

UCC: I’m going to roast the tomatoes I got at the farmer’s market yesterday. What’s the status of the cookie sheet?

TCG: The cookie sheet cannot be saved. We’ll have to buy another one. I was going to take you to On The Table (aka, Sur La Table) to get a new cookie sheet. The Calculon (Actually it’s calphalon™ but we delight in calling it Calculon – the clueless movie star robot on Futurama – to the annoyance of Jim, the sales clerk at On The Table, who is apparently not a Futurama fan) I can’t get the old one clean.

UCC: Can’t I just use the old cookie sheet? I could use the silicone pad, would that help?

TCG: No. You need a new silicone pad too, I can’t get it clean any more. Can’t you use the stainless steel cookie sheet instead? That cleaned up easier than the Calculon sheet.

UCC: No. the stainless sheet is too thin and it’s bowed somehow so one corner lifts up and all the oil drains off and the tomatoes burn in that corner.

TCG: Well, I suppose you could use the Calculon sheet one last time. Don’t bother with the silicone pad, it doesn’t prevent goo from sticking under it, and it just adds one more thing to clean.

UCC: Very well. Rest in peace, Calculon pan.

WISIMH: Too bad all the heroic efforts to clean the Calculon pan failed in the end and the patient slipped into an irreversible coma. Pulling the plug on the Calculon pan one week to the day it was last used to roast tomatoes is a bittersweet experience. We had some good times together, me and the Calculon pan.

But what pisses me off most of all in this traumatic experience is having the damn pan sit on the counter for an entire week, in intensive care, so to speak, only to pull the plug on it. I truly hate a messy kitchen. It causes me real psychic pain to have to work around that stuff. Our arrangement is that you “wash the dishes.” I do all the cooking, cleaning counters, putting away dishes and sweeping the kitchen floor. I also do at least two loads of dishes while I’m cooking, leaving only the actual serving plates to be washed, which can happen anywhere from 24 to 36 hours after use. I also wash my dishes and cups from breakfast and lunch simply to assure I’ll have a clean coffee cup tomorrow. You’re a lazy slug and I’m getting tired of humoring you into thinking you’re carrying your weight wrt/kitchen upkeep.

TCG: I said you could use the Calculon pan one last time.

UCC: I heard you. I said I’ll use the stainless pan out of respect for the passing of the Calculon pan. It’s better to let it die with dignity than to use it one last time in it’s comatose state.

WISIMH: Besides, if I used the Calculon pan, the encrusted goo marinating in greasy dishwater for a week probably wouldn’t contribute to the tastiness of today’s tomato sauce. It’s like the circus left town, but you’re still here. Is it happy hour yet?

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