Sunday, February 11, 2007

I Apparently Don't Have Enough Visitors, and I Have to Force Them to Come Over.

So, I was making duck. Amazing duck. This duck, in fact. It's the best duck I've ever eaten. When I make it again, I'm going to make double the sauce, because it's so delicious.

BUT. Notice how it's called "Broiled Duck Breasts with Orange Chipotle Sauce." Broiled. And. You may be aware: Duck breasts are quite fatty.

And duck fat, under the broiler? Oh yeah, it smokes.

So, I'm cooking, finishing up the green beans and roasted potatoes, and I notice that the apartment is filling with smoke. Not bad smoke, just foggy smoke. So, we open the windows, but without any sort of crossbreeze or fan, nothing was really happening. So I opened the door to the hallway.

Now, if we remember back to when we first moved into this apartment, we will recall that there were some deathly battles with the smoke alarms.

Well, it turns out that the smoke alarms in the main hallway are similarly sensitive.

And, unfortunately, wired so that they blare, loudly, in everyone's apartment. And automatically contact the fire department.

So yeah. The firemen come. And all my neighbors had to hang out outside in the 12° freezing cold night.

Even though we'd told them there was no fire or anything of concern, they came bursting through the door with their axes drawn (as I tried to pretend I wasn't completely MORTIFIED that my cooking had brought the FIRE DEPARTMENT to MY HOUSE) while the alarm squawked unceasingly.

The very nice (and kinda cute) firemen cleared all the smoke out of the apartment (with huge fans) and figured out how to reset the alarm downstairs. And then left me to finally serve dinner and wait for the hate mail to start coming in from my neighbors.

I'm so embarassed. Can I just say that this all just happened to "my friend," and have all of you believe it?


Ethel said...

That's the sort of thing that would totally happen to me. Unless the firemen were hot. In which case, it would not happen to me.

Summer said...

HOLY CANNOLI!! Or however you spell it. Thank the cooking gods that they sent you a cute fireman. Anyway, I've set off the alarm a time or two in my day. I just never had anyone come to the rescue.

Logan said...

Ouch. Shit happens, but you should have seen that one coming, kiddo. ;)

Right then would've been the opportune time to pretend like you had some kind of tick or some other physical handicap (related to the incident or otherwise, it wouldn't really matter), and maybe your neighbors would have thought to themselves "hm, that tick probably had something to do with it..." and not felt as upset.

Lizzle said...

Cute married women broiling duck breast ALWAYS get the cute firemen... Me, I get the 300 LB chain smoking, wheezing guy with a cheesy Burt-Reynolds- moustache.

Kiki said...

Ha! This totally happened to me in the dorm. I want to say twice. Why is always the good cooks who set off the fire alarms? Apparently the PE smoke detectors couldn't handle my cooking!

Vaguely Urban said...

Don't be embarassed! Consider it a score - I'm sure other, lesser, women have intentionally set off their smoke alarms in order to show firemen their smokin' breasts.

p.s. We always have a tough time finding chipotles in adobo. In freaking Los Angeles. When we find them, we stock up! They are excellent with roasted squash. Just a little, of course.

R said...

Tell "your friend" that it's ok and not her fault. :-)

SarahReznor said...

i hope the duck was worth it! sounds like it tho - if i ever come over for dinner can you make it again...?


Anonymous said...

Like Mother, Like daughter. Remember we always used to announce, dinner will be ready when the smoke alarm goes off? And the fire department came when the house filled with smoke when I was trying to clean the oven?

Bobealia... said...

I swear the alarm in my apartment goes off everytime we cook. Waving tea towels right under the alarm works really well for future reference.
Are you even Steven with the loud yelling neighbors now?
I think so.

v said...

That's a pretty funny story. Now you have something (extra) to charm people with at parties. And don't be embarassed. I'm sure it has happened to plenty of people. And you (indirectly) did get the smoke out. Did any try your food? I'm sure that would have been ample reward for their visit.

Miz Shoes said...

I have posted my own, true story about The Night The Firemen Came to My Dinner Party. I was roasting goose. Read on.