Well, we had an exciting dinner tonight. Jason's mom had brought over a Honeybaked Ham on New Year's Eve Day that we have thoroughly enjoyed. Jason and I decided you could almost justify the price of it with as many meals as we've gotten out of it; of course we got it for free. I decided I'd be super economical and non-wasteful and make a soup out of the leftover ham bone. I printed off a couple, narrowed it down to two, and to my delight, Jason chose one from Food Network which was a spicy New-Orleans style stew. It was noted as "medium" difficulty on Food Network so I was looking forward to the challenge; Food Network recipes always intimidate me a bit. However, this recipe appeared to be actually very simple. I got the stock going with the ham bone and corn cobs, and the aroma of the ham bone was so delicious. It was finally cold, and just smelling that ham bone today made Jason and I both anticipate the yummy taste of a warm bowl of soup tonight.

The ham bone, corn cobs, and ten cups of water were to simmer an hour and a half. I had to scrape the cobs to release the corn milk which sounded very chef-like to me. I measured out the water precisely as to not mess up the esteemed Food Network recipe. I even made sure I had the temperature on exactly medium-low; I spent a few minutes debating what was actually medium low. Is it halfway between "medium" and "low"? Or is it one or two clicks past medium towards low? Why don't they label that? I went for two clicks beyond medium towards low.

So, as I said, we enjoyed the lovely ham aroma. I was taking down the upstairs Christmas tree, and I was waiting for the time to add the other ingredients to the now simmering stock. I had checked it a couple of times, but I did wonder whether I was to add more water or not. There were no instructions to do so, and I assumed that adding more water would only mess up the consistency of the recipe. If the hallowed chefs at Food Network did not say to add water, then by all means, I was not going to add water.

Suddenly, as I was tying up the branches of the tree, I smelled an unfamiliar aroma. It was not the aroma of the sweet smelling ham, but a different smell was wafting towards my nostrils. I smelled for a moment and then rushed downstairs. The closer I got to the kitchen, the clearer the smell of scorched food became. I rushed in to find the pot nearly on fire. It was smoking ferociously, and I could hear the remnants sizzling in the pot before I even got into the kitchen.

I rushed it outside and doused it with water. After opening windows, and the smell still not dissipating, we did what any other American family would do. We went out to dinner and left the windows open. Salsaritas was good, but it wasn't the savory soup I'd longed for. And, throughout dinner, all I could smell was my hair reeking of scorched food... There's nothing like scorched food to replace that new house smell! Upon returning home, the smell still lingered. Right now, we have every candle we can find and a stick of incense burning. Our bedroom is very romantic!

The lesson I've learned is perhaps Food Network does not belong on the cooking pedestal I have placed them on. A couple of weeks ago, I looked through a Rachel Ray cookbook and was not impressed enough to keep it on my Christmas list. Of course she's on NBC now with Harpo. So, I'll be more wary of Barefoot Contessa and her cohorts. I do love Paula Dean though and want to try her fried chicken recipe...

The other thing I've learned is I want to burn more candles. I used to burn them ALL the time and haven't had time to do so lately I guess. Just got out of the habit. I like it!! :)

Of course this experience can happen to anyone. Our dear Uncle Paul, a fireman no less, once BURNED his kitchen (and had to call the fire department) when something on the stove burned. Needless to say, he still hears about that... :)