Women Over Fifty

We have company this week and we’re loving it.  They want to see ocean?  We’ve got ocean.  They want to see fish?  We’ve got fish.  They love fried okra?  My husband’s specialty.  We’ve got the best fried okra in town.

My husband had already cooked bacon and eggs for breakfast.  We’d also enjoyed his bean soup for lunch.  So, when it came to cooking in last night, he was up again to make fried okra and pork chops smothered in mushroom gravy.  After I set the table I offered to make the potatoes.  We were out of room on the stove for frying pans so I decided to microwave the potatoes.

Have you seen the potatoes they sell that are encased in plastic and microwave in 15 minutes?  They come out so yummy, but they’re expensive and huge so I only bought two for the five of us.  Then I got to thinking that might not be enough so I decided to microwave the single red potato I had left in the pantry.

I don’t usually microwave potatoes unless I have them in their plastic shells.  How long should you nuke it?  Well, it was only one potato so maybe half of that time?

I cleaned and washed the potato and then wrapped it in wax paper and put it in the microwave for 8 minutes.  Why I chose wax paper over plastic we’ll never know, but I did.  I discovered that wax paper microwaved for 8 minutes doesn’t do well.  

I saw smoke rolling out of the microwave and opened the door.  (Dumb move itself.)  There was the wax paper on fire and the potato not far behind.  You wouldn’t believe the amount of smoke rolling out of that small space!  My company went running for the bedroom and shut the door, while my husband abandoned his okra and took on his Save The Females From Themselves personna and managed to get the burning mess outside and into a metal bowl.  We were saved!

Then the laughing and joking began.   The kitchen was filled with smoke - an unbelievable amount of smoke and everything smelled like burned potato.  Smoke burned our eyes.  We coughed.  Dinner was forgotten for a while.  We had to air out the house.  It was 45 degrees outside and we had the doors open and the fan going full bore.

Dinner was served some time later.  The two plastic encased baked potatoes were more than enough for the five of us.  Everyone ate their fill, but the topic of conversation was me, who couldn’t even bake a potato in the microwave.

I was banned from the kitchen.  My reputation as a baker of potatoes had gone up in flames.  

I ask you, is that a bad thing or a good thing?

Marilynne 

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