Day two of trainings. Things are getting rough, but at least breakfast and lunch are provided. I need to stop waking up so darned early thinking I have to cook eggs and toast. My bread already molded anyway (after 3 days! Oh the humidity!).
After arriving home today I decided to make Teriyaki steak after the success of my previous steak endeavor on Sunday (marinated & grilled, picture below).
A grilled steak with cheese & jalapeno potatoes as an accompaniment. Pretty darned good. Today, however, the steak wouldn't go quietly.
R came by with a bowl of uncooked ramen looking for some hot boiled water. He came in as I was about to place my steak in the pan and so I let him in quickly and put a pot of water on the stove for him, but critically forgot to close the door. Soon after my steak was sizzling away happily, if not very fervently. Too fervently, within minutes a loud, obnoxious noise permeated through the apartment complex. An alarm? A fire alarm? But mine wasn't going off. R reassured me it was definitely someone else's, somewhere down the hall. However, within minutes a loud angry knock came at the door that I only closed minutes after the noise came on (had to shut it out after all, it was annoying and not my fault!).
It was (or maybe it was my fault, how'd they know it was me) a fireman.
"Are you hurt?"
"No.."
"Can I take a look around?"
"Sure"
".... you're... cooking... oh look, there's the food"
"Yup"
"Well, leave the window open next time (it was) and the door closed"
"Thanks sir, sorry about that"
And my sauce got burnt. No more faux asian for me. I'm grillin' all the way.
Luckily, "burnt" is one of my favorite flavors.
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