GAS!!!

From the kitchen you can hear me shouting, again...“I Hate Gas!!!!” 
to which my adoring husband of 37 years yells back... ‘Hey it wasn’t me this time!’

The gas I refer to is of course is our gas oven; new when we moved into the house, but I’m sure parts were missing.

Now, I`m the first to admit I`m not the ‘Betty Crocker’ of our family. No, that would be my Mother, the way she could whip up a huge dinner at the drop of a hat...and Christmas was when she would shine. She was never satisfied with a few different kinds of cookies...noooo, she`d go for a least 20 different cookies, squares and such never breaking a sweat.

Well, being here is Mazatlan has made me miss those baking delights and so I got the recipes from Mom and started to ‘bake’, which is now a four letter word in our house.

I figured, you get the secret recipe, mix it loving, turn on the oven and voila...a treat for every sweet tooth! 

But there seems to be a problem...I have a gas oven, which over the years I have heard was the best way to cook...BBBBBULL *@&%!

After the first six batches I have come to realize, it`s not me...it`s the damn stove/oven. 

The stove elements never go low enough to simmer...low, medium and high means just one thing in my house...
let’s boil the crap out of everything! 

The browning/broiler element should be located where the pan drawer is on an electric oven (my model doesn’t have one) but if it did it would be very limited in size, not that I would be baking or broiling anything enormous, but a choice would be nice.

Hub saunters into the kitchen and peers over my shoulder as I take a tray out of the oven. 
‘So what is it?’

“Banana bread and it’s done” I announce slowly as I scratch my head and lean down for closer inspection.

Pushing me aside Hub sticks his finger in the top, turns to me and gives me his culinary opinion... ‘Maybe you got the recipe wrong.’

“After 40 years???? I don’t think so...but I do know that IF you were a loving husband you would get me an electric oven!”

‘You’re obviously confusing me with someone else,’ as he pours himself a fresh cup of coffee.

Tossing the latest pan into the sink I call out...“Well then it means no baking or browning of any kind from now on.”

‘No problem...we can afford to lose some weight around here anyways.’

It was at this point, I grabbed the half baked bread and helped it fly through the air with the greatest of ease...

Sticking his head in the door...‘Seeeee...if we exercised and played a little baseball you could have actually hit me with that!’

It was at this point I casually walked over to the counter and dumped his freshly brewed coffee down the sink!

Just a couple of thoughts from 2 Canadians living and loving it in Mazatlan!

Linda and Hub!