The Wet Donkey

I like to think I am a pretty intelligent person. And I feel completely at ease in the kitchen, often preferring to be there than anywhere else in the house. While I'm no gourmet chef, I consider myself to be a pretty decent cook. But sometimes life likes to keep me in check, I suppose. Case in point:

I'm reading a book about making artisan bread, so I decided to try it out today. Instructions call for heating up the baking stone in the oven set to 475 while the bread rests, as well as placing a broiler pan on a lower rack to add water to later. I don't have a broiler pan, so I just used a 9x13 Pyrex instead. I transfered the dough to the heated stone and proceeded to pour hot water into the dish. Yeah...not the best idea.

It cracked immediately. Now, I have long since known the dangers of extreme temperature changes on bakeware. Why this did not occur to me is beyond me. Perhaps my brain is misplaced along with my laundry basket.

At this point I was done with trying to make this stupid baguette and I left everything like it was and left for a friend's house for dinner. I cleaned it up when we got home, and all the glass had fallen into the drawer underneath. Lovely. So I was taking everything out to get out the glass shards, and what do you know, there's a blasted broiler pan.

Sigh.