I can’t take credit for that phrase; if you don’t already know where it’s from, you should watch Archer. It comes on FX at 10:00pm Thursdays, and the first season is on Netflix. /plug
So! Cuddles and I decided that we wanted to make stir-fry tonight. Well, I decided that I wanted to make stir-fry, and Cuddles went along with my shenanigans. We made a chicken stir-fry with onions, broccoli, zucchini, and red bell peppers. We followed the guide located here, and made the lemon sauce. Cuddles was not a fan of the lemon sauce, and I was only a fan of it after copious amounts of soy sauce, but other than that, everything went well. Cuddles prepped the chicken, I prepped the vegetables and sauce, and he cooked everything because I am deathly afraid of hot things which is why my newest hobby involves ovens.
Here is Cuddles frying some stir.
Behold! It’s real food that we put together and cooked. It has undergone a chemical change since we purchased it. I have never felt more like a real adult.
However, if you look at the recipe at the site, you’ll notice that the key to stir fry is keeping the pan hot. Really hot. You’re supposed to turn the heat on your pan before you start prep, then turn on your fan before you start cooking. Now, maybe in a normal house that has a real fan over their stove, this is no problem. Real stoves generally have a fan with an exhaust pipe in order to suck up smoke. Terrible apartments, on the other hand, just have a normal fan above the stovetop. Now, when you heat a pan up for about 45 minutes, then put oil and marinated chicken in said pan, a certain phenomenon occurs.
Me: Umm, the house is filling up with smoke. I think we’re going to set off the alarms.
Will: Don’t worry; the smoke alarm doesn’t work.
Me: Oh thank God.
Will: Ah, well, the one on our side of the apartment doesn’t. Y’all’s does.
Me: (runs to close door to her side of the apartment)
Will: I think we should open the door. (He opens the front door)
Three minutes later
Will: I’m going to put on the ceiling fan. (Turns on fan and closes door to the other half of the apartment)
Me: The police are going to show up. They’re going to think that we’re smoking the demon reefer. Or a bunch of hungry college students are going to show up, sniffing and asking for stir fry. Let’s face it: the neighbors probably think that we’re cooking meth.
Cuddles: I think the onions are burning.
It was quite delicious all the same.