I love cooking. This is no secret to people that I raid with (or who are in game with me) as I frequently babble about food wherever I can get someone who will listen. However, I’ve learned a few things since I started raiding. Most of those things, I’ve learned through experience.
Usually painful experience.
(I’ll save the traitorous, deceitful avocado for another day.)
This is one of those experiences. I may have told it before, in which case, I’m sorry, and you can go read something else I was reminded of it when reading Amber’s Random post today.
This story takes place just around the time that Too Many Annas came into existence, nearly two years ago. I was a full-time Resto Shaman back then and had only been raiding with TRI for about 5 months. Spaceship Hubby was (and always has been) his tanky pally self and was one of the four MT’s we needed back in the bad old days. He was a resistance tank for that particular fight, if I remember correctly.
But I digress.
We were, at the time, taking our first steps into Serpentshrine Cavern. I was a middle school choir teacher at the time, and craziness had invaded my day (duh), so our dinner wasn’t done until after the raid started. I had chosen to make a frittata – which is basically an omelet that you bake in the oven, or like a quiche made in a skillet with no crust: eggs + stuff + oven + bake until done – since it didn’t require me to babysit it much.
The timer dinged that it was finished during a quick break before we pulled Hydross.
Running into the kitchen, in an attempt to not slow down the raid, I grabbed a pair of plates, pulled the pan out of the 450F oven (with a hot mitt) and then couldn’t find the spoon to serve it. I took off the hot mitt, got the spoon, and turned back to see what looked like my every day, normal old, metal-handled omelet pan sitting on the stove.
My brain said “That is your omelet pan. You make eggs in it all the time. The handle doesn’t get hot on the stove!”
And I grabbed the handle.
Perceptive readers will remember that crucial bit about how you don’t make a frittata on the stove. You bake it in a rather hot oven.
My hand went *psssst*, and stuck to the handle of the pan.
I’m told I made a very interesting noise at that point, and Spaceship Hubby said rather quickly “afk, kitchen catastrophe” – which, as a resistance tank was particularly problematic for the raid’s ability to just keep going, and as a raid healer, was also somewhat bad.
My careless stupidity held up a raid for 20 minutes while he found some gauze and some aloe for my thoroughly 2nd degree burned palm, and I tried not to pass out with my hand under the running cold tap in the kitchen sink. Of course, then I realized that the blistering was just going to hurt like hell whether I raided or not. So I made some UI adjustments, took two Ibuprofen, and went back to raid healing, balancing a bag of frozen peas in my hand to keep it cold.
(When the peas thawed, I found a bag of frozen corn.)
That was the night that convinced me that I would really probably do OK with this new-fangled Clique addon.
It was also the reason that the title of this post was my raid forum signature for quite some time.
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