Safety Schmafety

M and I were both away last weekend. I was in NYC. He was fishing, canoeing and camping.

Unfortunately, I got home first and was greeted by a loud BEEP. And another. And another.

Smoke detector must need a new battery. BEEP. Where do we even keep batteries? BEEP. Buy a new one? BEEP. No, it's raining outside. And getting late. BEEP! Just disconnect...

Ah, peace.

BEEP!

Seriously? Maybe it was the upstairs smoke detector? BEEP. Disconnect that one.

Silence. Silence. Silence. BEEP!

Are you kidding me? Maybe taking the batteries out isn't enough. BEEP. It must know I didn't change the battery and it's punishing me for it. BEEP!

A laundry basket full of towels. Perfect. BEEP. Wrap both detectors in towels. Bring laundry basket to garage. BEEP. Shut the door!

Back up the basement stairs. And then up to our bedroom. Victory? BEEP! Ugh!

Jump out the window? Kidding.

Call M. He'll know what to do. Ring. Ring. Ring. BEEP! Ring Ring...

"Maybe it's the carbon monoxide decor," M suggested. Oh yeah. That thing.

BEEP. Unplug. BEEP. A silence button! Hit silence button. Remove batteries. Silence....

And more silence. Still silence.

VICTORY!

Now the only problem was every safety detector was in pieces all over our house. Taking them apart was one thing. Gathering the pieces and putting them back together. Not so easy.

Basic Brownies

Looking back to some of my original posts -- and the memories that far precede blogging, I really think I've come a long way.

For example, just last night an old memory came flooding back. I was dining at Fat Head's -- a Pittsburgh fave -- with M and his brothers. Don't ask me why, but the topic of olive oil came up. The general consensus was it makes just about everything taste better.

Or does it? That's when I remembered a time when EVOO failed me. Or rather, I probably failed my EVOO.

In college, I was making brownies from a box one night. Nothing fancy. Mix ingredients together, pour into a baking dish, put in the oven and I was home free.

When the timer went off, the smell of fresh baked chocolate wafted through our old college house. Yum! I called the roommates to the kitchen for a treat.

But when I pulled the brownies from the oven, they were still really gooey.

"Maybe they aren't done yet?" my roommate suggested.

I was about to put them back in when she noticed the olive oil sitting out on the counter.

"Um.... What kind of oil did you use?" she asked.

"I used this," I said, grabbing the EVOO. "And I swear, I measured everything perfectly. I was even eye level with the bottom of the meniscus!" I automatically started justifying. I was so used to my mom and sister always questioning my cooking antics.

You'd have to know my roommate. She's the sweetest girl and I know she didn't want to hurt my feelings. She tried to get me to throw them away, but I insisted we try them first. She refused.

Smart girl. She knew they'd be totally disgusting. I wasn't so convinced. So I cut off a corner and took a great big bite. Holy gross!

In the end, I learned EVOO ≠ canola oil. What a sad, sad waste of olive oil.

P.S. M loves the edges, so we're now the proud owners of the Baker's Edge brownie pan. And so far, I have yet to screw those up!

Chocolate Covered Peeps

Sugar. On top of sugar. On top of sugar.

I think it's too much. To the Peep people -- simply sugar on top of sugar is enough. Please and thank you.

Agree/disagree?

Live and Learn

We were grilling out. Steak with veggies. Yum! After I cut the peppers and onions, I decided to chop up the watermelon. Figured it would compliment the summer inspired meal nicely.

And it probably would have... if it didn't taste like onions. I was lazy and on a roll. So while I used a different knife for the veggies and the watermelon, I used the same cutting board. Thus, onion infused watermelon. Not very good.