Kitchen Goddess no more

I pride myself for being a good cook. I’m the Queen of Leftovers because I can transform and recycle any leftovers in the refrigerator into a new and exciting dish. I am good in experimental cooking. And I sealed the deal with my Hubby with my effortless ham and cheese omelet [sort of]. I can cook even when I am sleeping. I can cook without complete ingredients and still come up with a tasty dish. I am a good cook. I am a “brag”. I am the goddess of the kitchen.

Yesterday morning, I made Hubby his all-time favorite ham and cheese omelet and poached eggs on toasted wheat bread for breakfast. There was only 1 egg left so I decided to boil it and to make an egg salad for his sandwich the following day. Then, I went to work in the computer and got lost in my thoughts. I was suddenly brought back to my senses when I heard our smoke detector sounding like crazy.

I jumped from my swivel chair and headed straight to the kitchen. The egg! The lone egg! The poor egg! There it was sitting helplessly in the middle of the casserole where I first carefully laid it on swimming in water. There it was sitting powerlessly in the middle of the casserole which was drained of the water. There it was sitting impotently in the middle of the casserole burnt, bruised and scorched.

That poor egg ruined my credibility. Now, I am thinking of retiring.