Grilled Cheese Sandwich Experience
A grilled cheese sandwich is easy enough to make, right? Three ingredients: cheese, bread, and butter. I had watched my mother and father make it for me all my life. On this fateful day, when I had made my first grilled cheese sandwich by myself, I was seven. I was at my mother's house and she was asleep.
I remember the bright sun rays greeted me. They tickled my eyes as if to say it's time to start our day. Subsequently, my stomach roared like a roll of thunder demanding that it's time to eat. So I stretched my body and then slid off my bed. With great urgency, I moved quietly down the hall, down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Our kitchen was smaller than most. The size of the kitchen made it easier …show more content…
When I opened the oven door, I saw there was a small metal pan already in the oven. With the door held open, I placed the buttered sandwich in the oven. I wipe my fingers clean of butter on the nearest towel. I turned the temperature dial slightly and turned the timer dial to start heating. I stayed and watched the sandwich anxiously. Suddenly, a bright orange flash appeared. My heart raced as my sandwich was suddenly on fire. In a feeling of panic, I quickly turned the timer dial and temperature dials. I finally figure out how to turn the toaster oven heat off. Regardless, smoke was still filling the oven and spilling out. I yanked on the cord, pulling it from the outlet to unplug it. I gasped when I saw it was still smoking. I quickly grabbed a towel to cover the oven to stop the smoke from escaping. My mother cannot smell that smoke and then come down to see the catastrophe. I grabbed two more towels to smother the fire and smoke. The toaster oven did not seem to smoke as much as it had when it was on fire, but it was still enough that my mother could smell it. I had to get the smoke out of the house. I ran to open the back door. I ran back to the kitchen. I grabbed the towel covered oven and tossed it on our cement walkway. I waited to make sure that it still was not on fire. Not satisfied, I grabbed the small blanket on couch and ran back outside to toss it on the mess. I had to make sure there was definitely …show more content…
“You even have everything out for me too,” she remarked as she made her way into the kitchen. I sighed with relief. She did not notice all the food was out because of my failed attempt. Thankfully, she is usually too groggy first thing in the morning to notice details.
I continued to remain frozen like a statue, though my mouth seemed to uncontrollably keep moving and my stomach seemed to keep making growling noises. But then I heard something strange. I heard the oven door squeak open. The oven is where my mother kept all the pots and pans. Next, I heard the small bang of a pan as it was placed on the stove. Followed by these unexpected noises was the sizzle of a cooking spray. What is she doing? I asked myself. My curiosity overcame my concern of my survival. I got up and moved into the kitchen to watch her because I had to see for myself. She took every step that I had to build the sandwich and almost exactly the same way I did. To my surprise, she was not literally toasting it, but cooking it in a pan. I was completely confused. I thought to myself, why don’t they call it pan fried cheese
A grilled cheese sandwich is easy enough to make, right? Three ingredients: cheese, bread, and butter. I had watched my mother and father make it for me all my life. On this fateful day, when I had made my first grilled cheese sandwich by myself, I was seven. I was at my mother's house and she was asleep.
I remember the bright sun rays greeted me. They tickled my eyes as if to say it's time to start our day. Subsequently, my stomach roared like a roll of thunder demanding that it's time to eat. So I stretched my body and then slid off my bed. With great urgency, I moved quietly down the hall, down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Our kitchen was smaller than most. The size of the kitchen made it easier …show more content…
When I opened the oven door, I saw there was a small metal pan already in the oven. With the door held open, I placed the buttered sandwich in the oven. I wipe my fingers clean of butter on the nearest towel. I turned the temperature dial slightly and turned the timer dial to start heating. I stayed and watched the sandwich anxiously. Suddenly, a bright orange flash appeared. My heart raced as my sandwich was suddenly on fire. In a feeling of panic, I quickly turned the timer dial and temperature dials. I finally figure out how to turn the toaster oven heat off. Regardless, smoke was still filling the oven and spilling out. I yanked on the cord, pulling it from the outlet to unplug it. I gasped when I saw it was still smoking. I quickly grabbed a towel to cover the oven to stop the smoke from escaping. My mother cannot smell that smoke and then come down to see the catastrophe. I grabbed two more towels to smother the fire and smoke. The toaster oven did not seem to smoke as much as it had when it was on fire, but it was still enough that my mother could smell it. I had to get the smoke out of the house. I ran to open the back door. I ran back to the kitchen. I grabbed the towel covered oven and tossed it on our cement walkway. I waited to make sure that it still was not on fire. Not satisfied, I grabbed the small blanket on couch and ran back outside to toss it on the mess. I had to make sure there was definitely …show more content…
“You even have everything out for me too,” she remarked as she made her way into the kitchen. I sighed with relief. She did not notice all the food was out because of my failed attempt. Thankfully, she is usually too groggy first thing in the morning to notice details.
I continued to remain frozen like a statue, though my mouth seemed to uncontrollably keep moving and my stomach seemed to keep making growling noises. But then I heard something strange. I heard the oven door squeak open. The oven is where my mother kept all the pots and pans. Next, I heard the small bang of a pan as it was placed on the stove. Followed by these unexpected noises was the sizzle of a cooking spray. What is she doing? I asked myself. My curiosity overcame my concern of my survival. I got up and moved into the kitchen to watch her because I had to see for myself. She took every step that I had to build the sandwich and almost exactly the same way I did. To my surprise, she was not literally toasting it, but cooking it in a pan. I was completely confused. I thought to myself, why don’t they call it pan fried cheese