The one with blackened bacon

Last time I wrote I mentioned the fear of water damage. Now, I write about the fear of smoke damage.

A few nights ago Mom suggested having breakfast for dinner, my favorite. The chocolate chip pancakes were doing their thing on the griddle and the bacon was slowly frying in the pan. If you asked Mom, the bacon was frying at too slow a speed so it was transferred to the griddle. Within a handful of seconds the kitchen was filling with smoke. The smoke then started to spill into the dining room, the living room, and then the hallway.

After some shouts, the windows were opened and the fans were switched on. We took action soon enough so as to avoid the smoke alarm sounding. Mom and I laughed and shivered as we transferred the blackened bacon to a paper towel. As mom patted the bacon to rid it of excess grease she heard it crumble. It had turned to crunch.

The smoke was still lingering in the air when Dad, the expert bacon fryer, got home. Moral of the story, be patient and never rush the perfection that comes from frying bacon slowly in a pan.