Is The Oven Supposed To Have A Fire In It?

I’ve been on posting hiatus, not for lack of desire to post, but due to extreme business interspersed with necessary afternoon naps with my 3-year-old.

But, there is definitely time to squeeze this one in.

I made rhubarb pie last night, a direct result of some friendly students from yesterday’s Goat Cheese Class who gave us a good amount of fresh rhubarb stalks.  As it was my first time to make rhubarb pie, I hadn’t thought about putting a tray or something under the pie pan as it cooked and simmered in all it’s sweet, sour, drippiness.

Drippiness all over the bottom of the oven.

Ah, well, clean up for another day, another time.  By the time the pie was out and the oven and cooled, the puddle of reddish-brown bubbling ooze, the size of a small plate, was cemented to the bottom of the oven.  And, I had no time…and no desire…to chip it off.

That brings us to today’s class.  When Jo said she loves rhubarb pie, I proudly displayed my 1/2 eaten homemade pie, and showed her (and her children and grandchildren) the sugar cement disc on the oven floor.  We discussed how and when I would get that off.

However, I hadn’t planned on doing it while the bread for brunch was baking.

I figured it would smoke some though, so I warned the group in advance that we would be eating smoked bread with brunch.

I had not anticipated flame roasted bread.

You can follow a play-by-play of the events here: 

First:  I put the bread in the oven to cook.

Second:  The class begins smelling the cooking bread and commenting on how wonderful it smells, that baking bread just makes a house smell good.

Third:  I forget about the hazardous oven conditions.

Fourth:  I see steam coming out of the vent in the oven, right smack during mozzarella stretching time.

Fifth:  I open the oven.  Smoke billows out.  I am immediately reminded of the crusted on sugar plate on the oven bottom and my prediction of smoked bread. 

Sixth:  I close the oven door and chuckle with the group.  Ha, ha, ha, smile, I guess we will be having smoked bread!

Seventh:  Darren and Susan begin stretching their mozzarella again.

Eighth:  Jo’s grandson, Travis, spoke.  His comment has already gone down in history:

“Is the oven supposed to have a fire in it?”

Well, no.  Actually, it isn’t.

Right now, it’s as if the waters parted.  Susan and Darren vacated the premises in front of the oven.  I threw open the oven door and removed the two bread pans.  These thoughts slammed through my brain in rapid succession:

1.  Quick!  Close it!  Reminiscent of when Aunt Audrey’s marshmallow topped sweet potatoes caught serious fire in her oven right before Thanksgiving dinner.  She knew to slam to oven shut to “stop the oxygen flow” as her wisdom later came out.  (I would have had no idea what to do.)

2.  Quick!  Throw baking soda on it!  Nope.  That would be WAY more mess to clean up.

3.  Eventually it will burn out.  Let it burn. 

**SNAP**  Travis has the presence of mind to take a picture:

 4.  If I let it burn, it will turn the whole pile of cement into ashes.  That will be much easier to clean up.

And, so, after 3 seconds of serious contemplation, it was decided.  I’d let it burn.

The house filled with smoke, the fire burned on, and eventually burned out, and I scooped up the ashes with a spatula. 

Not a bad way to clean an oven, huh?

The bread went back in, the oven went back on and Darren and Susan went back to stretching.

No one was injured in any of the actual events. 

–  The Goat Cheese Lady

About The Goat Cheese Lady

I am Lindsey. At first I was a city girl. Growing up, the closest thing I had to farm animals were a cat and a cockatiel. In 2009, Herbert (my husband) and I bought our first milk goat and I instantly became an urban farmgirl, attempting to balance city and farm life..before I knew “urban homesteading” was a thing. That’s when we began The Goat Cheese Lady Farm, hence The Goat Cheese Lady blog you’re visiting now. After moving to the country in 2014, I embarked on life as a rural farmgirl. We continued teaching farm and cheesemaking classes, raising more goats and began construction on our cheese creamery. But life had other plans and in 2017, we decided that, due to financial and health issues, we had to close the farm for business. No more classes, no more creamery, a lot less milking. We went back to off farm jobs, I as an Occupational Therapist, Herbert in construction with his business, D&A Home Remodeling. At that point, I made a silent promise to myself that I would corral my entrepreneurial mind and focus on a job for a year. Well, it has been a year and I am back. Not to classes, cheese, soap or lotion, but back to writing. I love it. I’m not sure where it will lead me, but that’s where I’m starting. I’ll continue to write as The Goat Cheese Lady for now, and whatever the future holds, I’ll let you know. Our two boys are 14 and 11 and continue to be louder than my sister and I ever were. We have two dogs, Montaña and Flash, a cat, Jumpy, a flock of chickens and three goats. Yes, we still have Lucy, the goat who helped us start it all and was milked by over 1,000 people. She’s retired but still the boss. Chocolate provides enough milk for our family with some to spare for the dogs. Soccer friends, school friends, coyotes and mice are frequent visitors. There are way too many flies and every so often we see an owl. I’m glad you’re here. Sometimes you’ll laugh out loud, other times you’ll be inspired to appreciate the small things. My hope is that, over your morning cup of coffee or your afternoon work break, you’ll enjoy the antics and inspiration that are my daily life. Lindsey
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2 Responses to Is The Oven Supposed To Have A Fire In It?

  1. Melina says:

    Never a dull moment!

  2. marilan says:

    Wow and I keep telling you every day is an adventure;-)

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