Pointless Experiments
Pavlov's Frog writes: I once spent 20 minutes with my eyes closed to see what it was like being blind. I smashed my knee on the kitchen cupboard, and decided I'd be better off deaf as you can still watch television.
( , Thu 24 Jul 2008, 12:00)
Pavlov's Frog writes: I once spent 20 minutes with my eyes closed to see what it was like being blind. I smashed my knee on the kitchen cupboard, and decided I'd be better off deaf as you can still watch television.
( , Thu 24 Jul 2008, 12:00)
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Some of the best experiments are food related...
Back at university I got into a fun state of affairs where my housemates refused to wash up, so wouldn’t until they would, etc. so as a result, there were points where we had absolutely no clean crockery. This can make cooking a wee bit difficult, but I seemed to manage somehow through various feats of McGuiyver-esque shenaniganery.
Anyhoo, one evening I rolled in from some drunken escapades in town, and I’d gotten myself a case of the beer munchies. Being a completely poor-arse student and unable to afford the bliss which is a dirty take-out pizza, I looked in the cupboard and found that my food supply consisted of 8p noodles. I grabbed a sack of the stuff and looked around and found no clean saucepans whatsoever. Not a sausage. How could I cook my banquet of epic proportions without such a device? Then I spied it.
The espresso maker.
I’d bought this wonderful device as part of my general caffeine-fiending at uni, and it was amazing. It was essentially a big kettle that went on a hob which held the coffee grounds in a separate container in between the water and the spout, and the boiling water would pass through, leaving a delicious hot beverage. I had something slightly more sinister in mind for it this time.
I placed the block of dry noodles into the coffee trap of the device, threw the noodle spice in with the water at the base, stuck the whole unholy concoction on the stove and set it to heat, and went to watch a re-run of Countdown.
Bweeeeeeeee!
Coming back to find the kettle juddering on the hob, I quickly switched it off and disassembled it to unleash the tasty treats, which were cooked to perfection. After stirring in some ketchup with a plastic fork, I feasted, and was content.
Result!
( , Thu 31 Jul 2008, 12:48, 2 replies)
Back at university I got into a fun state of affairs where my housemates refused to wash up, so wouldn’t until they would, etc. so as a result, there were points where we had absolutely no clean crockery. This can make cooking a wee bit difficult, but I seemed to manage somehow through various feats of McGuiyver-esque shenaniganery.
Anyhoo, one evening I rolled in from some drunken escapades in town, and I’d gotten myself a case of the beer munchies. Being a completely poor-arse student and unable to afford the bliss which is a dirty take-out pizza, I looked in the cupboard and found that my food supply consisted of 8p noodles. I grabbed a sack of the stuff and looked around and found no clean saucepans whatsoever. Not a sausage. How could I cook my banquet of epic proportions without such a device? Then I spied it.
The espresso maker.
I’d bought this wonderful device as part of my general caffeine-fiending at uni, and it was amazing. It was essentially a big kettle that went on a hob which held the coffee grounds in a separate container in between the water and the spout, and the boiling water would pass through, leaving a delicious hot beverage. I had something slightly more sinister in mind for it this time.
I placed the block of dry noodles into the coffee trap of the device, threw the noodle spice in with the water at the base, stuck the whole unholy concoction on the stove and set it to heat, and went to watch a re-run of Countdown.
Bweeeeeeeee!
Coming back to find the kettle juddering on the hob, I quickly switched it off and disassembled it to unleash the tasty treats, which were cooked to perfection. After stirring in some ketchup with a plastic fork, I feasted, and was content.
Result!
( , Thu 31 Jul 2008, 12:48, 2 replies)
Hmm.
It's better to just wash things up only before you're about to use them; this still leaves no clean ones for lazy housemates, and avoids "creative" improv such as you describe.
( , Thu 31 Jul 2008, 13:06, closed)
It's better to just wash things up only before you're about to use them; this still leaves no clean ones for lazy housemates, and avoids "creative" improv such as you describe.
( , Thu 31 Jul 2008, 13:06, closed)
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