With that being said, I'm *attempting* to learn how to cook, so that I can say "I'm the baddest cook on the block, yo!". Mostly, it's just a pile of mush that I am subjecting my guinea pig, ahem, husband to eat and critique. I'm so nice, I know. Anywho, we got a bunch of duplicates for the wedding, so off to BB&B I went!
Amongst everything I bought, I got this!
Yup, a BAKING dish. Now, here is where the story gets good. I was under the impression when you BAKE, you use the oven. I was told by C (remember, this is all new to me!) that if I put this baby on the stove top it would break. Got it, no stove top. I am fearful of the stove top anyway, so score!
As the series of events unfold, please note, no one was hurt in the writing of this blog.
I proceeded to mix a crap ton of ingredients together and it smelled delish. Hubby agreed and continued to pace around the kitchen muttering, "hurry UP, I'm starving." No pressure, right? Right. So food is done, in the oven it must go. My concoction was supposed to take 30 minutes. Enough time to watch 90210, SWEET! As I sit down and get comfortable, I hear a POP. Not a good pop, like, oh, popcorn popping, pop rocks, no...the sound of glass EXPLODING.
This is what happened.
Sad, I know.
So the next 30 minutes were spent cleaning my stove and crying to the poor pizza girl that answered the phone at Papa John's. Oh, and believe me, I have the pieces of pyrex in a nice little baggie to take to BB&B. Not that they can do anything, but still.
So lesson learned? Cooking is not for me. And Pyrex wants me dead.