
I enjoy cooking a good meal just as much as I like eating a good meal. My roommates know that it's a sign that I'm about to conduct some major business in the kitchen when I plop down my ipod and speakers onto the kitchen counter. Last month, my friends and I started SNDC (Sunday Night Dinner Club). It's very hush-hush among us because we do not want any moochers to infiltrate our new Sunday ritual. The rules are very similar to Fight Club, the first one being, we do not speak of SNDC outside the confines of our apartment walls. Every Sunday has a theme and the first SNDC had a Southern Comfort theme. My contribution was mac-n-cheese, courtesy of Southern cutie, Paula Deen.
Richard Simmons enjoys sweating to the oldies, but I prefer to cook to the oldies and the classics. I normally blast The Big Chill Soundtrack, because I like to envision myself in the movie dancing with my friends in the kitchen (sans the whole reuniting because of a friend's suicide thing). Other people that frequent my culinary soundtrack are Aretha and Nat King Cole. Listening to Respect with a knife in your hand creates a whole new meaning to the song.
As I was making my mac-n-cheese my roommate's peach cobbler was baking (and yes, it was a 12 on the yummy scale). Unbeknownst to us, the peach juice goodness was too much for the poor cobbler to take and it began to overflow in the oven, causing an icky ooze to burn on the bottom of the oven. We immediately took it out and contemplated taking a break from cooking to deal with the near catastrophe, but there was no way that I was going to have a spill stop my mac n cheese from baking.
The goo began to cool and we stuck the cobbler back into the oven, so it turn a golden brown, so beautiful it would make you tear up. Until- bad news bears-a small burst of flame began popped up. In short, the flame was contained, oven cleaned, and mac-n-cheese and cobbler were safe and sound.
I guess in the beginning of my story, I demanded Respect, but in turn I almost Burned One Down.

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