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Two tablespoons is different than two teaspoons!
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<blockquote data-quote="Marguerite" data-source="post: 114511" data-attributes="member: 1991"><p>I'm gonna be naughty and use Marg's sig...</p><p>I did notice that she didn't tell about any of her disasters. </p><p>The best was many years ago before we were married when she read in one of those 'family' magazines (I think it was "Australian Women's Weekly") </p><p>-engage syrupy voiceover voice:</p><p>"for that special dinner simply melt a Mars bar and pour over ice cream"</p><p>-disengage syrupy voiceover voice</p><p>Americans, see <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mars_Bar" target="_blank">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mars_Bar</a> for what we mean by a Mars Bar.</p><p></p><p>She was young(er), she was inexperienced and I didn't know any better either. She simply dropped a couple of Mars bars into a saucepan and heated it until it was molten and poured it over the ice cream where it instantly set into a leathery toffee that wouldn't crack and wouldn't break. In Marg's words when she tells the story it resembled some life form crawling over the ice cream trying to engulf it. One ate the ice cream from under the toffee which remained poised over the plate like some prehistoric spider eight inches across. </p><p></p><p>We invoked the student household burnt pot rule. Cooks do not wash up unless they burn the pot - then they clean up their mess. She tried but couldn't and it fell to the household males (greater strength) and visitors (ignorance of the problem) to attempt - the cleansing.</p><p></p><p>That's when we discovered it wouldn't dissolve in boiling water either! It eventually came clean after soaking for nearly two weeks in daily changes of water and m-u-c-h elbow grease from many elbows.</p><p></p><p>We now know that she should have used a double boiler to melt the bars; but we didn't know that and the magazine didn't say to.</p><p></p><p>I don't get off Scot free either. I asked Marg to remember my best disaster but it's blanked out of both our minds by the most recent. </p><p></p><p>Remember it is high summer here so difficult child 2/easy child 2 managed (with great difficulty due to their popularity) to get three boxes of strawberries for us to have on Christmas Day. I brought them home and, due to lack of space any where else in a crowded kitchen, put them on the stove top sitting in a frying pan. Thinking that it would be a disaster if someone turned the heating coil under that pan on I pulled the control knob off so this couldn't happen.</p><p></p><p>I then cut some bacon, set it to broil on a low heat and went to change my clothes. A few minutes later I returned to the kitchen to be greeted by smell of poached strawberries mingled with a hint of polythene and more than a of polystyrene. I had pulled the wrong knob off and 'broiled' the bacon by putting it on a cold coil. I had turned the coil with the pan full of strawberries on a low heat! Yum; Yum (not)</p><p></p><p>Marg's Man</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Marguerite, post: 114511, member: 1991"] I'm gonna be naughty and use Marg's sig... I did notice that she didn't tell about any of her disasters. The best was many years ago before we were married when she read in one of those 'family' magazines (I think it was "Australian Women's Weekly") -engage syrupy voiceover voice: "for that special dinner simply melt a Mars bar and pour over ice cream" -disengage syrupy voiceover voice Americans, see [url="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mars_Bar"]http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mars_Bar[/url] for what we mean by a Mars Bar. She was young(er), she was inexperienced and I didn't know any better either. She simply dropped a couple of Mars bars into a saucepan and heated it until it was molten and poured it over the ice cream where it instantly set into a leathery toffee that wouldn't crack and wouldn't break. In Marg's words when she tells the story it resembled some life form crawling over the ice cream trying to engulf it. One ate the ice cream from under the toffee which remained poised over the plate like some prehistoric spider eight inches across. We invoked the student household burnt pot rule. Cooks do not wash up unless they burn the pot - then they clean up their mess. She tried but couldn't and it fell to the household males (greater strength) and visitors (ignorance of the problem) to attempt - the cleansing. That's when we discovered it wouldn't dissolve in boiling water either! It eventually came clean after soaking for nearly two weeks in daily changes of water and m-u-c-h elbow grease from many elbows. We now know that she should have used a double boiler to melt the bars; but we didn't know that and the magazine didn't say to. I don't get off Scot free either. I asked Marg to remember my best disaster but it's blanked out of both our minds by the most recent. Remember it is high summer here so difficult child 2/easy child 2 managed (with great difficulty due to their popularity) to get three boxes of strawberries for us to have on Christmas Day. I brought them home and, due to lack of space any where else in a crowded kitchen, put them on the stove top sitting in a frying pan. Thinking that it would be a disaster if someone turned the heating coil under that pan on I pulled the control knob off so this couldn't happen. I then cut some bacon, set it to broil on a low heat and went to change my clothes. A few minutes later I returned to the kitchen to be greeted by smell of poached strawberries mingled with a hint of polythene and more than a of polystyrene. I had pulled the wrong knob off and 'broiled' the bacon by putting it on a cold coil. I had turned the coil with the pan full of strawberries on a low heat! Yum; Yum (not) Marg's Man [/QUOTE]
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