Nomen Est Omen

Update On The *&%$#! Gas Oven

I read everyone's comments and to be quite truthful, I swore you were all insane and stoned if you thought I was going to put a match inside my oven. Also? Since this is my very first experience with lighting a gas oven, I had no idea where to put the match.

However, hunger over took me and as all I have to eat is week old grapes, water, mustard and a pizza, I decided that if I was going to die, it would not be of starvation. I decided to give the stupid oven another try.

I don't have any matches, long or short and there is no way in hell I'm lighting it with a lighter so after much thought, I grabbed an incense stick. I looked inside the oven for the "hole" on the floor near the hinge as Jeffro suggested and I found myself staring at a few holes in the floor of the thing. I looked to the top and saw where the gas comes out...at least I think that's where it comes out. It looks threatening so surely that must be where the deadly gas that waits to blow up the kitchen lurks. I waved the incense stick around hoping the thing would "ignite", (oh my gawd that still gives me the willies), but nothing happened.

I quickly lost my nerve, opened up the door leading to the back entrance and waited for the gas to air out. Nonetheless, I was determined to do this because you all spoke as if it was perfectly normal to go sticking matches inside gas ovens and gave me enough confidence that maybe nothing bad would happen. Not a lot, mind you, but a little.

I worked up my courage again and opened the door once more. I saw that one hole on the floor of the oven looked different than the others. This one was perfectly round. It seemed to be in a logical place for lighting although it was not by the hinge and was actually towards the middle of the oven. (Note to self: Do indeed pull my hair back and never wear long sleeves while doing this.)

Turning the knob, I stuck the incense stick at the hole and waited. Nothing. I placed it at the lip of the hole. Nothing. Well now I'm getting ticked that this contraption was outsmarting me so I shoved the incense stick all the way into the hole.

PHWOOMP!

Needless to say, I jumped back but that damn thing was lit! I stood there and stared at it for awhile to make sure the flame and gas would not decide to fully engulf the entire oven, licking it with flames. I adjusted the temp to the 400 degrees that was required for the pizza.

Seemed to be alright. So I stuck the pizza in and stood guard over the oven just in case. (Remind me to get a fire extinguisher. I can't believe the landlord didn't provide a fire extinguisher. Now I have to go buy one.) Of course while this pizza was cooking, every odd smell or weird noise, no matter where it came from, (outside even), I was convinced something was wrong with the gas oven and my heart raced while I stood there, stressed and ready to attack for 14 minutes.

Although the pizza probably could have used another one or two minutes, I took it out and finally, 12 hours later, I had pizza. I have succeeded in conquering my gas oven.

This does not mean that I like it. I still hate it. I tested the oven out after turning it off to see if it would just come on on its own like the burners do. (I never had to "light" the burners. I turned the knob, waited a little bit and they lit themselves. Every time after that they come on immediately.) No. Of course not. That would be silly. It appears I'm going to have to light this stupid thing every single time I want to put something in the oven. Double plus unthrilled.

The other thing I don't like about gas ovens and stoves for that matter? For some this is a plus but not for me. I'm used to waiting for burners and ovens to heat up and I'm used to cooking time going along with what the packaging says on the food.

Example, my pizza declared that I would need to wait for the oven to warm up to 400 degrees and then it would take approximately 19-21 minutes for the pizza to fully cook. It didn't take very long for the oven to be hotter than hell and my pizza was 99% done in 14 minutes. That's a 5-7 minute difference people. Same thing goes for the burners. I have a good idea how long it takes to make eggs or hamburgers or chicken on an electrical stove top but a gas stove top cooks your food in like .00038 seconds. You have no idea just how much food I have burned while trying to get used to gas stoves and ovens. That sets off another fear. The damn smoke detector. I hate those things too. Sure they save your life if you are sleeping and fire breaks out but they like to go off at the slightest whiff of smoke so not only do you have an ear drum piercing siren going off, all the neighbors in your apartment building now know that you can't cook for shit. Of course this is not before you have worried them or caused them panic at the noise.

Maybe I'll just go back to microwaving everything.

Regardless, if it was not for you kind folks acting like it was no big deal and the one reader who gave me an idea where to even look TO light the farkin thing, I would still be staring at a frozen pizza, stomach growling and wondering how well mustard would taste on grapes.

Stay tuned for my next big adventure when I visit the dentist next Tuesday.

(cue horror music and screams)

Yah, I hate the dentist too. In case you are noticing a trend, yes, I hate just about anything that can potentially cause me pain or makes loud noises. What can I say? I'm a quiet little mouse who wants to be left alone. Of course I rarely ever get my way. See, I don't want people poking or prodding at me, telling me, "You've got 6 months to live" or "You have a disease we've never heard of before" or, "Sorry lass, we have to yank all of your teeth out because you didn't floss on a regular basis" (followed by maniacal laughter and 'I told you so's'), or "You are under arrest for not knowing how to light your gas oven properly and took out three apartment complexes and half a hotel. You're going to rot in jail for the rest of your life", or any number of things where I may be met with less than desirable news. No, I'm not dramatic.....I think I've read too many books and have an over active imagination. And that's just the thoughts I conjure up while conscious and alert. You should see my dreams and nightmares. I put Stephen King to shame.

Posted by S. Faolan Wolf at May 1, 2005 01:20 PM