Smoking Chef

I am a pretty low maintenance girl. In fact, when it comes to cooking and eating...the less I have to do the better. I am a chronic grazer, a picnicker of sorts so it makes sense that I did not make much use of my 'stove' in my previous apartment (some would not say it qualified as an actual cooking device). But now, oh now, a Viking range beckons in my new home and so after purchasing two very tempting steaks, I decided tonight was the night I would play with gas (as in the kind in the stove- not the kind I am sure to have later).

I got out the olive oil, the salt and pepper, I turned the large sleek stainless steel knob. Magic. It works.

And so does my smoke alarm.

The meal was brilliant despite the blood curdling alarm that eventually conceded defeat to my open windows and breezes created my panicked attempts and mad flapping. The cow was a little overdone but I have to say, cooking an actual meal was very satisfying- to my tummy and my soul.

I will do it again. And I will remove the battery from my smoke alarm.