The Ninety-Eighth Day of Winter

I found a recipe for cooking a roast that involves starting the oven at 500 degrees. Our oven is probably as old as the apartment and never is the right temperature. I'm probably crazy to have attempted it, but winter has got to be the best time to do so, right? If our kitchen combusts, I can just open the windows and all will be okay, right?

Of course the fire alarm sounds, but it goes off just about any time we use the oven and frequently when we use the burners. I perhaps stressed it more than usual, though. The last of the battery’s reserve was used up on this dinner and it chirped incessantly until we organized ourselves sufficiently to purchase a replacement battery.


At least the meat is a unanimous success. Only time will tell whether I’ll have the nerve to repeat this recipe again.

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