Image Source: my kitchen.Just like any other person who is undergoing physiotherapy and who accidentally hurt the same foot which was healing, thereby causing a nasty, bloody bruise which caused swelling all over again, I boldly ventured into the kitchen yesterday to make myself something to eat as I was hungry and I was also reveling in my new found mobility.
Now I believe it is of paramount importance to not delude yourself.
Therefore, knowing that the culinary dept. was not one of my strengths, I decided to make the simplest dish known to man a.k.a baked potatoes. Let me categorically state that it all began well and I was successfully able to skin and cut the potatoes while ignoring the mild throbbing on my foot.
Emboldened, I proceeded with what can only be described as "great enthu".
After following my mother's instructions thus far, I forgot her instructions on how to set the oven and place the potatoes in them (refer 25 things about me- point 17).
Playing by ear and going along with the flow, I made some (later revealed as nowhere in the vicinity of the ballpark) guesstimates and pressed on. I waited for a bit. The throbbing was mildly irritating and so I sat down and started dreaming and salivating in anticipation of my meal to come.
It was at this point that I smelt something burning. Hastily, I got up. A sharp shooting pain in my foot due to recently acquired wound made me plop back down again completely unable to get up.
Realizing I was in rather a predicament, I somehow managed to switch off and open the oven with a walking stick. Only to be greeted by a charred sight (refer pic. above).
However, I believe in taking responsibility for one's actions and ate the potatoes after removing the charred bits and coating what was left with some rubbish "lemon-drizzle" dressing.
Just for the record, I offered it very kindly to other human beings who refused after grimacing.
Yes, they all grimaced. Every single one.
