During my year out from Poly I spent a year with Humberside County Council and shared a house with two other course mates. In order to maintain an equitable split of housework, we took it in turns to make the evening meal. To say that we were under-skilled in this department would be an understatement. For example AP's signature dish consisted of a meat pie served with a tin of meat chunks in gravy. Vegetables were just a vicious rumour at this stage in our culinary development. So on this particular evening we arrived back from work and I set about preparing the evening meal. The delights to be served up this evening were Findus Mince Crispy Pancakes with chips. Mmmm-mmm delicious. The first problem was that the frying pan was still full of fat from the previous meal. Cleaning it was just too gross so I elected to melt the fat and then simply pour this down the nearest drain. Congratulating myself on my cleverness I lit the pan and, as it was taking an age to heat through, I went up to my room to get changed out of my work clothes....
....After listending to music and playing the guitar for half an hour I noticed smoke coming under the bedroom door. "That's odd", I thought, "as soon as I finish this song I'd better take a look at that", and continued playing.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING DOWN THERE", AP. Suddenly remembering that I had set out to cook the tea, but had become side-tracked by my pursuit of musical genious, I threw open my room door to find deep black smoke filling the stair well. Chest hugging, nostril burning, acrid smoke. Arriving in the living room things were looking bad. There was thick smoke from ceiling to within a foot of the carpet. Crawling on all fours we arrived in the kitchen to find one unholy mess; flames spurting from the cooker hob, sparks flying from what used to be the extractor fan and blackened walls and curtains. In short the kitchen was on fire.
I tried to recall my safety training and remembered something about fat fires and water. Yes that was it - throw water on the fire. So I quickly filled the kitchen sink bowl with water and flung it at the fire.
"NOOOoooooo!", shouted AP as he lept for the cooker switch. Thankfully he turned off the electricty just in time - a second later and the water would have made contact with the sparking wires. Phew... except, as I now know, fat and water don't really get along and so the fire, rather than being extinguished, became even angrier. By this point, AP had already dampened some towels and had flung them on the source of the blaze. Within minutes the fire was under control, the windows were opened and we could assess the damage.
"It doesn't look too bad", I offered, "perhaps we can fit a new extractor fan and with a bit of paint you'd never notice".
I was being somewhat optimistic - the kitchen had been totalled; the frying pan had caught alight and the flames, being left to their own devices for over half an hour, had grown to reach the extractor fan. This, being essentially a sponge for fatty fumes, had instantly caught fire. Eventually it gave up on holding onto the cooker unit above and had dropped onto the blazing frying pan. From there the two got on like a....ahem... house on fire and happily burned away until we came and spoiled their union.
And the ironic thing was that the house did have smoke alarms but 'we' had removed the batteries as they were just the right size for our guitar effects pedals. It seemed like the right thing to so at the time but in hindsight......
So after a furious weekend of decorating, the kitchen was made to look as good as it possibly could and the overall effect was.... it looked like fire ravished kitchen with a new coat of paint. Very convincing. The landlord was not happy. And we lost our deposits.
After a month or two of eating cold food and salads, it was decided that I could be trusted again in the kitchen and we started to eat 'properly' again. It became routine to have a roast dinner on a Thursday night - originally to celebrate to (almost) coming of the weekend. This also happened to coincide with late night shopping in the city centre and on one particular Thursday it also coincided with pay-day. The temptation to go and spend some of our hard earned cash was too great, so we left a chicken to slowly roast in the oven and set off for the shops. The shopping trip was even more pleasant as we knew that when we got back there would be a lovely juicy cooked chicken, roast potatoes and gravy to greet us. Smashing.
I was really pleased with my purchase of 'Mother's Heaven' and had found it at a bargain price. What a find. I was chuffed. As we pulled up onto the drive, I was eager to play my new purchase. A new CD, a roast dinner and a few cans of beer. What a perfect night.
"You've got the house keys - can you open the door", I said to AP
"No - you've got them", he replied.
"No - you have", I responded........
Oops we appeared to have both forgotten our keys. Never mind, DS was in the house so he could let us in.....except he wasn't'. We'd both totally forgotten that this Thursday night he had gone out to one of the bible groups. Blast. Rushing around to the back door we could see through the window of the kitchen and the window of the oven our lovely, almost cooked to perfection, chicken. Juicy, golden and no doubt delicious.
"Quick - back in the car - we need to find Darren to get his keys", AP instructed. So we jumped into the car and drove off to the nearest church. I wasn't much of a plan but there was a roast dinner at stake! We didn't have a clue which church he had gone to - we should have taken more notice. Double blast! Church after church was visited and at each one we were greeted by rather confused parisheners. Double blast with an extra helping of blast! About an hour into our search we were getting desperate and elected to try one more before admitting defeat and resorting to breaking a window. Opening the final door.... phew he was there.
Moments later we were back in the car and speeding off towards our house. bursting into the door we could smell a hint of roast chicken. A hint of roast chicken that was being carried on an even stronger smell of burnt flesh. The oven door was opened and we were greeted, not by a succulent roast chicken, but a charred and decidedly over-crispy ex-chicken. It was ruined.
"At least we didn't burn down the kitchen this time", I meekly offered
"Don't say another word Stanton!", came the reply. I duly complied......
So was the album worth the woe. Was it worth, for a second time, nearly burning down a kitchen? I'm inclined to say it was. Far away from the difficult second album syndrome, this is a much more accomplished album than their debut. Yes the drums are still a little clunky, but the use of samples and drum loops, as were popular at the time, really helps the pop songs within shine. 'Beliefs' is a gothic rock pop song, 'Alone With You' is simply a great pop tune and 'Wrapped In Clothes Of Blue' uses a sampled baseline to great effect and really pushes the Texas sound in a new direction. Criminally overlooked, it is not difficult to extrapolate their development from this album to see how they became a polished pop band. The great thing about this album, however, is you get both sides of Texas on one album; pop and rock with a hint of the blues.
And as far as my cooking goes, well I can safely say that I have never tried to serve Findus Crispy Pancakes since. I am still far too easily distracted by music but I have learned from my mistake...... we now have a stereo in the kitchen! Result.
No comments:
Post a Comment