This time the kitchen fire wasn't my fault

Juan started a fire in our oven on Thanksgiving.

Let me repeat that for those of you who are now staring at your screen in disbelief. JUAN started a FIRE in our oven on Thanksgiving. Juan, not C. The male half of our relationship started the fire. The one who never does stupid things in the kitchen almost burned our house down. That one.

Hee.

As you can tell from the lighthearted tone of this post, no serious damage was done (except the damage to Juan's food) and we were able to put the tiny fire out in about ten seconds, but still. I wasn't the one who caused culinary mayhem this time.

But let me rewind things a bit so you can get a full appreciation for what actually went down at our house last Thursday night. Being a fan of red meat and a decided hater of seafood, Juan responded to my decision to serve lobster for Thanksgiving dinner with a request for something that didn't swim. Fair enough, so my parents and I prepared our feast while Juan planned his own. We had lobster, shrimp, snow crab, spanikopita, apple pie, and (just for Juan) steak. Since there were so many different dishes (all of which had to be served piping hot) and one of us had to juggle Luke since he wasn't napping well that day, we ate in shifts. My parents and I dug into our lobster while Juan's steak was still broiling in the oven and everything was going very well until Luke needed a diaper change. Juan checked the steak, decided it needed a few more minutes under the broiler, and took the baby upstairs while my parents and I continued eating. Suddenly, smoke started pouring out of the oven and all the smoke detectors in the house went off at the same time.

Needless to say, scrambling ensued.

Sure enough, the steak had caught on fire while it was in the oven. Juan's steak was pretty charred, but some quick moves by my dad managed to save a small corner of it so he still had something to eat for dinner. The oven appears to be undamaged and we're very, very sure that the smoke detectors work properly, so overall the night wasn't a complete bust.

I should probably feel bad for crowing a bit over Juan's mishap, but given how much pleasure he's taken from my kitchen catastrophes over the years, it seems only fair for me to take some pleasure from his.