Be afraid. Be very, very afraid.

People, I hereby declare myself dangerous in the kitchen. Remember the nu-cu-ler bread I made on Wednesday? Oh yeah. It gets worse.

Friday afternoon, I decided I REALLY wanted cookies. These cookies, to be specific, though I do not know why the person who posted them said to use instant oats. I've been eating these my entire life, and I'm pretty sure I've always had them with quick oats. At least that is what mama tells me to buy when I frantically call her from the grocery store to ask which kind I need. QUICK oats. Not old fashioned. Not instant. Instant oats are, like, ewwwe, but I digress.

At first I thought I did not have enough sugar, but it turns out that I had just enough. Whew. All was well. I carefully measured out my ingredients, paying extra attention this time (even though I did not use the confusing measuring cups - I desperately wanted these cookies and did not want to mess them up!). I used the special dark cocoa... mmmmmm... and threw in a dash of salt, just like mama taught me. Chocolate desserts need a dash of salt. Sometimes we make these with peanut butter and sometimes we leave it out. This time, however, the peanut butter was a-callin' my name. It has calories, you know, and I need calories. Plus, I haven't yet tasted them with special dark cocoa and peanut butter.

I set out my pot with the ingredients and got it going. Maybe 45 seconds later, I looked over and saw a measuring glass... with 1/2 cup milk. *sigh* I forgot to pour in the milk. Things seemed ok, so I poured it in. It immediately started to simmer. Hmm. I stirred vigorously and 30 seconds later, the bottom felt as though it had sticky stuff on it. By the time the mixture came up to a boil, it stunk to high heaven. Don't you love the smell of burnt sugar AND burnt chocolate? Oh yes, it is a lovely combo for sure.

I ruined the stinking (literally) cookies! I could not believe it. I've made these for years and years and have never made such a mistake.

Of course, I used up the last of the sugar so I could not make another batch. *grumble, grumble* And do you know how nicely burnt sugar and cocoa sticks to the bottom of a stainless steel pan? I think the three became one. It took several boiling soaks to get it off (ever boiled water with baking soda? That's kind of fun.). Here's how it looked after a few soaks and scrapes:


It did finally come clean. That's why I love stainless so... it can take a lot of abuse! Of course, the story does not end here. Nope, not quite. During my attempt to cause the pan and the burnt sugar/cocoa to get a divorce, something else happened.


Yep. To add insult to injury, I melted the end of my measuring cup.

I'm a GOOD COOK. I promise, I really am. Ask my husband and my daddy. Sure I set a pan on fire when cooking our second wedding anniversary dinner, forcing us to eat at Burger King for the memorable event instead... but that doesn't count. Nor does the fact that I coated the entire kitchen with a fine layer of fire extinguisher shmudge to put it out (it was only the pan that was on fire, people. Just.The.Pan). And let's not count the time I somehow made oatmeal so salty that my husband nearly gagged. No, no. These do not matter. They were a loooong time ago. I make good food these days, and I promise I have not experimented with the pyrotechnics in 5.5 years. But last week, the kitchen did not treat me well. Blame it on the tax man. Or the migraine and fever I've been fighting for the past two days. Yes, one of them has to be to blame... not me.

But just to be safe, I think I might hire a cook from now on.