The Day I Almost Burned Down the Bunker

I have decided to start volunteering more for Tommy's unit.  This week I volunteered to make 10 pounds of Spanish Rice for the Cinco de Mayo dinner for the single Marines in the Barracks. It didn't sound hard, and I thought what is the difference between making one pound and 10 pounds? Seemed easy enough, just buy more ingredients, right?

Wrong. Ooooooohhhhh so wrong.

First off, it didn't occur to me to find a *bulk* recipe until the last minute, after I had already done my shopping. So right away I had a problem because I didn't have some or enough of the ingredients, but I thought I could improvise easily enough. So I put the kids down for naps... or so I thought... and set out combining ingredients.  I was throwing things in left and right and realized I was actually behind schedule. So I wasn't exactly taking my time, and the improvising of ingredients turned out to be more difficult than I thought.  This led to me making last minute decisions like, "How much chicken broth do I really need?"  "Can I use tomato sauce instead of tomatoes and that will make up for some of the aforementioned lack of chicken broth?" "Is 1/2 cup of chili powder really necessary?"

So I just dumped things into the pan. Then I realized I did not have enough pans for all 10 pounds of rice.  More like 7 pounds of rice.  And even if I had enough pans, I certainly didn't have enough oven space! Well, 7 pounds will just have to do. I shove the first pan in the oven, then realize the racks are too close together. I take everything out and rearrange the racks in the 425 degree oven, then shove both pans in.

I re-read the recipe and happen to see a key phrase - "cover and bake for 45 minutes."  Hmm. I had forgotten the covering part. I remove both pans again (these suckers are heavy!) and cover with tinfoil, then repeat - yet again - the shoving into the oven part. By this time I am getting annoyed.

And that's when I heard the "...sssss...." sound.  And started to smell something bad.  It smelled like... plastic. Burning plastic. Confused, I look inside the oven. Nope, nothing plastic in there. What the...???

Oh my Lord.

In my rush, I had set down the ginormous bag of leftover rice right on top of one of the burners. The burner that releases heat from the oven.  The burning plastic was the rice bag MELTING and the "...sss..." sound I was hearing was the rice falling out of the bag... into the burner... through the burner hole....and right into the oven. All 3 pounds of leftover rice.

And now there was black smoke pouring out of my oven at an alarming rate.

@*&$*#$*(@&*!!!

I tried to remain calm, but I'm not going to lie. I wasn't calm at all. I was freaking out. Our smoke detector was right outside the kitchen, so I quickly shut the kitchen door, threw the storm screen off the window, opened it, shut off the oven, and tried to assess the situation.

My oven looked like a billion rats had been running around crapping in it for about a week.  There were crusty black droplets of rice everywhere!

I gloved up and removed absolutely everything I could from the oven.  I obtained a hand-held broom and dust pan and began sweeping the rice turds out of the oven.  My goal was simply to clean everything out so I could resume cooking the food.  Therefore, there were now rice turds all over my kitchen, as they were flying everywhere in my panic.  Sweet.

Then the kitchen door opened and Wyatt walked in.  Aaaahhhh!  Why aren't you napping?!?! And don't touch the oven!!! Of course he wanted to know what was going on, and I don't blame him. But seriously? Could the timing be any worse?  And that's when I heard Olivia crying in the living room.  Awesome. Both kids fully awake!

It was all I could do to get Wyatt back to his room. I literally had to carry him. I calmed Olivia and resumed the process of getting everything in the oven.  I put all the racks and pans back, restarted the oven, and said a silent prayer that the food would cook quickly!!

Then I set about the task of cleaning up the rest of the kitchen.  I regret not taking a picture... it was quite the sight.  Cans, pans, jars, food, ruined burners, window screens, and black rice turds everywhere. I am pretty sure people will be finding rice turds for centuries to come in this bunker. There is no way I could get them all. Some fell on the floor. Some fell in the drawer below the oven. They are literally everywhere.

The good news? The Bunker didn't burn down. And the rice cooked quickly, and made it there only 15 minutes late. Bon apetite!