I had the brilliant idea at about 8 pm last night to clean my oven, because I wanted to photograph some recipes for Horse Creek Kitchen, and I live in abject terror of people seeing my house and thinking that I live like my mother. That woman wouldn’t know what oven cleaner was if you brained her with a can of Easy-Off. This phobia of turning into her has warped my life to the point that I can’t even let my friends into my perfectly normal house (if you don’t count the cats occupying every flat surface) but that’s a story for another day.
Anyhoo, this was a wasted effort. I inherited this oven from Fred’s grandmother, and it has not gotten any better looking with age. Personally, I think the dent that I put in it while chasing a wasp through the kitchen with a cast iron skillet was an improvement. Fred disagrees.
I even tried Dawn Heavy Duty Degreaser in an attempt to remove the 20 year old lava caked in the bottom of the oven. This stuff will lift motor oil out of concrete, and it hasn’t done anything thing except gas all of us with the fumes. I refuse to use the Self Clean mode, because I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to evacuate the Furbeestes before a 900F firebomb torches my house, and my homeowners insurance is high enough already. So don’t bother suggesting that to me. Ain’t gonna happen.
My next step is to drag it outside, set off some dynamite in it, scare the shit out of the neighbors. and go buy a new stove.
Sorry, folks, but you’re just going to have to see cabbage buns being baked in an old, crusty oven. I’m pretty sure Martha Stewart won’t notice when she pops in this weekend to ask for my Fruit Soup recipe.
Cat Hoskins 