I Am Not A Cook

To paraphrase Richard Nixon: “I am not a cook.” And there is another truism: “accidents happen.” The two statements do not combine well.

I was cooking dinner for myself (pan-fried salmon) when I had a minor kitchen accident. The salmon fillet was done on one side and I needed to turn it over. But it was stuck pretty good to the so-called non-stick frying pan I was using, and as I tried to pry it away from the pan, it suddenly flipped over and landed on its other side in the hot cooking oil. That caused hot oil to splatter on my right arm. I put down what I was holding, turned to the kitchen sink, and ran cold water over the burn. Then I grabbed a few ice cubes and rubbed down the area with ice. Then I went hunting for some kind of burn ointment. I found some in the bathroom medicine cabinet. I hadn’t bought it—it was in the medicine cabinet when I moved into the house in 2003. But I figured, chemicals stay good for a long time, don’t they? And ointments are just chemicals, right? I wouldn’t take oral medicine that old, but a burn ointment is either going to work or it’s not.

I applied the ointment then drove to Wally World to get fresh ointment in case the old stuff didn’t work. Then it occurred to me that if the ointment didn’t work, I would need some other kind of analgesic. So I picked up a bottle of White Zinfandel and a bottle of Sangria.

I came home and applied more ointment and wrapped my arm with a bandage and taped it down—while using only my left hand. The process was a little awkward, but it worked. Hopefully, the bandage will prevent ointment getting on the bed sheets when I hit the rack in an hour or so.

By the way, the salmon with lemon-butter sauce and coleslaw on the side was very tasty!