This morning, the fire alarm went off when I was searing the boneless leg of lamb roast. Around here the fire alarm sends a rush of anxiety through the dog, at the very least. Rebecca’s fix for the piercing noise, after having to get out of bed, was to take a firm set of papers and wave them in front of the fire alarm sensor. My fix was to open all of the windows and to get the fan above the stove working, but that didn’t really work.
“That noise is the result of my first time searing a lamb roast,” was the best I could say to Steve.
“Well, I thought it was the time for the coffee,” he replied as he came up the stairs.
I have a sign on the slow cooker now.
Do not look in this pot. If you do, you will set the cooking time back one hour.
So far, only one person has looked.
Arta
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