Ok, that's a little much of a title. The real story is that my first six batches of biscotti went seamlessly. It was only the last bugger that got me and nearly burned down my apartment.
One of the fun treats I'm making for the hotel welcome bags is chocolate-walnut biscotti. It's a fairly simple process, just slightly time-consuming, so I've been working at it a few days.
Last night, the final batch had just finished baking and I decided it needed a few more minutes, so I pushed the cookie sheet back into the oven, but somehow the biscotti (still in logs--phase 2) and the parchment paper (a LIFEsaver, btw) stayed mid-air instead of moving back inside with the tray.
So as I yelled, "nooooooo!" I watched helplessly as half the biscotti on the tray waterfalled over the edge and onto the inner door and bottom of the oven. I quickly pushed the rest back onto the tray, then started scooping out the fallen biscotti with a silicone spatula before it could cement to the toasty oven walls. I thought the spatula was brilliant--silicone never melts!
I managed to get most of it out, only slightly burning my forearm in the process (really? My Mom's going to kill me.), but realized there was a big chunk down by the coils. So, for some reason, I decided to wrap the fire-proof spatula in paper towels to scoot the rest of the biscotti batter out of the oven.
You guessed it. Instant flames, which I swing around (More oxygen, More!) to the sink and throw underneath running water.
So let's take inventory:
1 burned arm
1 charred-paper wrapped spatula
1 half recipe biscotti in my trash
1 screamed "NO NO NO!"
2 episodes of Millionaire Matchmaker watched with ice pack on said arm
89 total packages of biscotti (double-occupancy bags) completed