I was going to blog about going to the movies in Korea, but I will save that for the next time.I have just had a very close call and I am pretty shaky. You see, Emerald Lady has discovered that she really cannot cook. The fresh burn marks and soot around the stove can heartily attest to this. Actually, I think it is God's sense of humor; I think the Sign was a little excessive, but it drove home the point. It all started with dead chickens.
On Monday, I left work at about 9:05 p.m., and hailed a taxi to get to E-mart before it closed at 10:00p.m. E-mart is Korea's answer to K-mart, but with a reasonably large supermarket in the basement. I don't like going there, as it is always crowded and a little messy, but it is cheap and close by. The supermarket is divided much like American supermarkets - dairy, meat, etc, but a little more pigeon-holed. Added to this are oversolicitous salespeople at each station, hawking their goods. They tend to be a little aggressive, so I have to shop by stealth to avoid notice; this is not easy, as I glow-in-the-dark. I just wait until they are busy with someone else, and take quick sneak peaks to find my item. But I digress.
I had to go get some other necessities, so I started on the fifth floor to get camera batteries. No one would wait on me. I moved on to the coffeemakers, and found one I really liked, but there were no more for sale. The "We are closing" message began blaring, so I quickly marched down to the market. I looked over towards the meat department and saw an opening. With elbows akimbo and eyes peeled, I bowled over to the poultry section. I saw ONE package of chicken breasts left, grabbed it, and then got in line. As I stood in line, I had second thoughts about my chickens. There was no noticeable date on the package, and in Korea they do not keep meat very cold in the markets. It looked ok, and didn't smell "off," but I was still a little nervous...I bought the meat anyway (for 5500 Won) and put it immediately in the freezer when I got home.
Tonight, I decided to cook it. I took the meat out, thawed it most of the way, and cubed it. The meat was two days old when I got it (marked Jan 14, 2006 under the wrapper) and, although there were some blood spots, I decided it was probably all right. I let the meat thaw some more in some water as I chopped up some garlic, ginger root, carrots and broccoli. I turned the gas burner on what I presumed to be medium because my recipe said to make the oil hot. I had used the recipe before, but it had taken forever to cook the chicken because the oil had not been hot enough. I tested the oil frequently until it was hot but not boiling. I should explain that my gas range is always a mystery, and has no markings for low, medium, or high. I usually cook things that BOIL, so it is generally not a problem. I stupidly assumed that the middle of the nob was medium. Therein was my mistake.
When the oil was reasonably hot, I tossed the chicken/garlic/ginger combo in the pan, and KABLAAMMM!!!!! Well, it wasn't quite kablaam, because I stepped back when a small flame suddenly appeared in the pan. I turned the heat off, and as I stepped away and went for the cupboard, hoping I had some salt, I heard a popping noise and then KABLAAMMMMM! Two foot..three foot..four foot tall flames shot out of the pan and up into the air in a volatile, but fortunately narrow, column. Oil was spattering everywhere, even landing on some utility bills lying three feet away on my little kitchen sideboard. Fortunately, they did not ignite. As I stared in horror at what I had done, a strange mixture of several thoughts went through my mind in that instant:
A) Will John (the office manager) dock my paycheck for setting my kitchen on fire?
B) What a stupid way to die.
C) Should I wake up Scott (my coworker/neighbor) and get help?
D) What a lousy wife I would make.
E) At least my hair is not on fire.
The fire extinguished itself very quickly without my help, which was quite fortunate, as I did not have salt or baking soda on hand. On reflection, it was probably the water from the not-quite-thawed out chicken that caused the fire. I stupidly though that since oil and water didn't mix, it wouldn't be a problem. Guess I was wrong.
I took the pan off the burner when I thought it was safe. Being Teflon, it is, of course, not damaged at all. There are soot stains on my walls, ceiling, and cupboards, but I think they will come off easily. The oil spatter, however, is going to be a bit of a headache to scape down. I considered trying to cook the meat again (which had never even made it to the pan, just the water), but decided that this was God's way of telling me the chicken was bad. Accordingly, I threw the whole mess in a recycling bag and put it out on the street.
So, the moral of the story? I don't know exactly what it is. Here are my NOTES:
I am a twenty-nine year old woman who cannot, for the life of her, master range-top cooking. Everything I make is overcooked or undercooked. All the cooking I know well requires an oven or a microwave, neither of which I have. Korea is a modern country in many ways, but the ajumas hold to their own ways of doing things, and I cannot discover the mysterious ways of coping with tempermental ranges. I have NEVER had to cook with oil; I always used PAM or margarine, neither of which are easily obtainable here.
Why can I not cook? Why did I never learn homestyle cooking? There is very little in the way of processed food here, so it is back to basics. But what exactly are the basics? Even in Home Ec. classes we took "shortcuts." This is a failing of my generation. I found myself silently resenting the time it took to cut up garlic, carrots, and ginger, then laughed at myself for being so lazy. Well, maybe lazy isn't the word - I had worked a full and difficult day (looking after other people's kids) and just want something to be "easy." How do soccer moms do it?
Items B and D really rankle with me, because it is true that, for better or worse, women have to cook. I hate cooking, hate cleaning, and hate doing housework. I would rather be out in the world among people. I have never lived with a man, but those who have tell me they do all of these things and more...without even a ring sometimes for their efforts. Even with a ring, the thought is still distasteful. I guess it is necessary though. I don't know...
I do try to improve my cooking skills in fits and starts, but this one could have killed me! Trooper that I am (some would call it obstinate), I was all ready to try again...until I saw all the oil splatter, and decided oil and natural gas from my range probably were not a very good combo either. So, I am sitting here, eating an orange, a few pieces of candy from my "visitor" jar, and contemplating getting up to make a PBJ...How pathetic, I sound like a bachelor!
I still have the untouched broccoli and carrots in my refrigerator, so tomorrow, I plan to go and get some FRESH chicken to try again (after I degrease the range). I think I will buy a microwave this weekend, expensive though it may be.
So, any of you church ladies (or gentlemen?) out there reading my blog know how to cook with oil without setting the kitchen on fire? I could use some good advice or basic recipes that can be made (without margarine or PAM) on a glorified hotplate...
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