Sunday, November 13, 2011


How often is it that you follow instructions to the T and then have all hell break loose around you?

Well, if you're wondering what I'm blabbering on about, I'll have you know that I narrowly escaped a very painful death (or dis-figuration at least!) today.

It all started with Mom and Dad leaving to check on our land that's in the middle of nowhere. And I, being the person left behind to cook for everybody, decided that I'd follow everything that my mother said about using the pressure cooker to the dot! And I'm mortally scared of messing up the kitchen (explains my lack interest to learn too complicated dishes).

As luck would have it, mom had fixed everything and all I had to do was light the stove and wait for six toots from the cooker and then switch the bloody thing off. Ah... if only things were this simple! I did light the stove and after three minutes, there wasn't a sound when normally the cooker goes "toot..toot...tootgetmyassoffthestovebitchtoot!!!"
As can be expected, I went to investigate and found that the lid didn't lock properly. And so, getting the thing off the flame, I fixed that and placed it on the stove once more. Now, at this opportune moment, Mom decided to call me and so, I told her about how the cooker seemed depressed and if I should just kill the flame. She told me to do just that and that she was getting back and would be there soon. Gleefully, I placed the receiver down and turned around only to hear a moderately loud THUNK and then complete silence.

Fearing the worst possible case, I walked towards the kitchen to find the cooker off the stove, the chimney above it in shambles, uncooked rice all over the walls, ceiling and refrigerator and sharp pieces of wood from the chopping board that was near the stove! I freaked out, my darling reader. I freaked out like it was nobody's business. Of course it was all silent. A silent cry of desperation like that of Gintoki and Shinpachi!

It was only when I saw the bloody shrapnel that was my chopping board that I realized the clear and present danger I'd narrowly escaped from. If my mother had cut the phone line a mere fifteen seconds earlier, I'd probably look like Yamcha from DragonBallZ!

Now before people start tut-tutting about my lack of culinary finesse to tackle a situation as this, we had the bloody cooker checked and it turns out that the thing was akin to a Chernobyle waiting to happen. There was a clogged valve and that was the reason why a rule abiding tennyo like me barely escaped having my face rearranged in the OR!

Moral of the story: Check your cookers periodically for faults. A messed up cooker is worse than Otae Shimura on PMS!

P.S. For anyone interested enough, bakuhatsu in japanese means "Explosion"... you know the whole KABLAM....DOOM....BOOM.... the works!

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