Burgers, baths, and bombs — Oh my!

In most homes, the kitchen is the family’s nerve center, the party place, and the situation room. It’s also where the best stories happen. Here’s what has been cookin’ in ours lately.

Oh, burger, where art thou?

On July 4th, as six of us buzzed in and out of the kitchen to prep burgers, hot dogs, side dishes and desserts, we were victims of a crime. One minute, we were an average American family about to gather around the backyard grill. The next minute, we’d been robbed.

Our middle son, Jack, had just seasoned the ground beef patties and stepped out of the room for what he claims was “just a few seconds.” But that’s all it took. When he returned to the tray of raw burgers, two and a half were gone. Upon hearing the kitchen commotion, we all went to investigate. Jack pointed to the empty spot where the burgers had been and reported the theft.

We looked around the room and found that only one of us had guilty eyes and was – at that precise moment – licking his lips. And wagging his tail. Our four-legged burger burglar probably thought he looked innocent, but we know him. He’s got a rap sheet a mile long filled with not-so-petty theft – a cheese slice here, a chunk of watermelon there, not to mention the Great Brisket Burglary of 2021.

With a collective shoulder shrug, Tom and I lamented the loss but carried on. We reminded Jack that you can’t leave food on a counter when you’ve got a counter-height dog in the house who’s always looking for his next meaty opportunity.

Hot tub meat machine

In our house, Tom is the adventurous one. He’s always looking for the best way to cook a steak. Or make a marinade. He’s a carnivore on a mission, and I admire this about him even when I don’t understand it. All I need is pasta and the occasional grilled chicken breast. Sadly, I have the culinary palate of your average 10-year-old, so I don’t bother with foodie gymnastics.

But I appreciate Tom’s experiments because sometimes they turn out great. His current obsession is cooking “sous vide” (pronounced soo-VEED), which means “under vacuum.” When you cook something sous vide, you put it in a vacuum-sealed bag inside a pot with an attachable water circulator that heats the water to an exact temperature for a long time.

In other words, Tom bought a hot tub for steaks. When I hear the large pot humming on the counter, I peek over the edge, half-expecting to see the slabs of meat smoking cigars and ordering martinis as they soak in the tub. Little do they know that this spa experience designed to soften them up will not end well for them.

Egg on his face

Speaking of things that go sideways, Tom made salads for dinner recently when the kids were out at a movie. He often boils an egg and cuts it on the salad to add color and protein. Earlier that day, I’d spotted a small bag of boiled eggs in a refrigerated case at the grocery store, so I brought them home to save a step of meal prep. Tom is a good man who knows I usually like things warm, so he put two of those boiled eggs in the microwave. A few seconds later? POP!

We both flinched, and he raced to jerk open the microwave door, revealing the carnage of an exploded egg blown to smithereens. It took nearly 10 minutes to clean up the mess, but he was glad the second egg had somehow survived the experience – until he put it on a plate and cut into it.

POP!

I looked up and saw the yellow guts of the second egg all over Tom’s face and neck. It turns out that a boiled egg is far too moist to be microwaved, where it can build up steam and explode like egg artillery.

Did I rush to his aide? Did I laugh until my sides hurt? Yes, to both questions, though unfortunately not in the right order.

Gwen Rockwood is a syndicated freelance columnist. Email her at gwenrockwood5@gmail.com. Her book is available on Amazon.