Whenever this happens (like every 3-4 months maybe) I realize how few cabinets and drawers Mr. I opens on a daily basis. He doesn't know where the measuring cups are, he's never seen the chili powder before, 'When did you move the olive oil?' 'Do we have a food processor?' 'Why doesn't this work?' Yep, Mr. I resides purely in the refrigerator, the plate and cup cabinet, the silverware drawer, and the pantry where the cereal is kept. I think we need to work on this...
Anyway, after much beating and banging, pops clanging, food processor whirling, Mr. I evacuated the Land of Kitchen with a paper towel over his nose and his eyes streaming. The Nora Nora started whining and jumping around. Then smoke began to fill the rest of the house.
As my eyes started burning, I threw open windows and even made a brave dash into the kitchen to turn on the vent over the stove. My eyes were on fire! And then my throat was on fire! Or bleeding! Or filled with fiery gravel or something! I ran out the back door where Mr. I and Nora were cowering.
Can anyone guess what Mr. Incredible was doing?
His nose was bright red by the way...
He was making chipotle peppers by roasting/burning jalapeno peppers in a frying pan. Somewhere between chopping them up and waving away the smoke, Mr. I managed to rub his nose and eyes with fiery pepper juice. Bad things happen when you touch spicy peppers and then touch your face. Just ask Mr. Incredible!
When the kitchen was finally aired out to sub-toxic levels, Mr. Incredible did return to his cooking and managed to bust out a pretty decent chicken sandwich (with jalapeno mayo and onion rings). My eyes and throat still stung a bit as I chowed down on his creation. Mr. Incredible proudly turned to me and declared,
" I may be a mess and completely out of control, but I make dang good eats!"
Amen.
Now guess who got to clean up the kitchen after all this??
Now guess who got to clean up the kitchen after all this??
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