Itís a good thing I donít have working smoke detectors. (Shhh. Donít tell my landlord. Or — shudder — my insurance company.) Because if my smoke detectors worked (and they look like they do, even though they donít), I would have had one more thing to deal with tonight. Noise pollution, on top of smoke pollution.
I hate this sad little stove that I inherited when I moved in here. And tonight when I tried to use the grill pan to make Spicy Honey Chicken, I had to hold the panís handle to keep the bottom of it on the burner. Thereís only one burner thatís large enough in surface area for the grill pan, and itís way lopsided. Plus, the grill panís handle is so heavy that it tilts the pan completely off the burner, unless I hold it in place.
That probably wasnít what caused the smoke, but I couldnít deal with it very well while I was holding the handle, either. I think maybe the Crisco olive oil spray that I put on the grill pan before I put the chicken on was what caused the smoke. By the time the chicken was done, I couldnít see across the room. I did turn the stoveís fan on while I was standing there, and afterward I faced the big box fan out the screen door and turned it on high. So the smoke became someone elseís problem.
Anyway, the spicy honey glaze I made turned out good, and it made the chicken taste like something. When something tastes like chicken, that means it doesnít have any taste at all, so Iíve tried a lot of recipes to help it along. The other night it was a brandy and cream sauce, which Iíll try again. The honey glaze? Way too much work (and way too much cleanup).