No, this is not a post about baking and being drunk. This is a post about my part infuriating, part incredulous, and part hilarious evening of attempting to make my favorite meal.
For starters, let me help you salivate.
My favorite meal is baked chicken with Hungarian paprika, gently cooked for 45 minutes until tender and juicy. I accompany this meal with baked garlic asparagus drizzled with olive oil until it is soft on the outside but still crisps when you bite into it. Also, a helping of Jasmine rice, covered with my simply delicious white sauce (which even my brother who hates my cooking always goes back for seconds or thirds of).
Perhaps now you can see why i was upset at not being able to make it! And here is why:
On a normal stove, usually there are 4 burners. And these burners are controlled by a knob which helps you set the heat setting. Fairly normal burners are low, med-low, med, med-high, high and Off. If the stove includes an oven, usually there is a separate nob for the oven temperatures. 100degrees, 200, 300 etc.
Mine: Low, Med-Low, Med, Med-High, High....Off
Needless to say, i was a little confused as to where 350 degrees was.
Unfortunately a phone call to maintenance was too late, as they had apparently "just left for the night like a couple minutes ago."
So with much sadness, the chicken and asparagus went back into the fridge, and the rice back into the bag....and Jon and I went out for Chinese.
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