Your Kitchen Can be A Dangerous Place

Your Kitchen Can be a Dangerous Place

By: Zola
Chief Dieter
Plan Z Diet





One of my least favorite memories of my childhood comes from sitting at the kitchen table, watching my parents cook dinner on a Saturday night.

That’s the night they would sometimes get out the deep fat fryer.

I was just a little kid. Too small to help cook. I was told to sit in my chair and wait for dinner to be finished. The big table was smack dab in the center of the kitchen. It was one of those old metal tables from the 50’s that had a Formica top on it. The top was a mottled grey that I guess was made to look sort of like marble.

Sitting in the chair, my head stuck up over the edge of the table but that was about it. I was knee-high to a grasshopper.

I knew enough though to understand the danger of high heat. I suppose it could have been because my mother warned me repeatedly. I didn’t have to be told twice to sit still in that chair and wait for dinner. I was supposed to be happy. Mom and Dad were making French fries.

Why they decided that Saturday night was a night to make deep fried French fries I’ll never know. I liked the ones that baked in the oven just about as much, so why go to that trouble just for us small tykes? The big kids had dates on Saturday night so they weren’t around. It was just us young-ins.

My parents drank cocktails before dinner. And on Saturday nights there might be a bit more drinking of cocktails than other times. Combine too many cocktails and a deep fat fryer and you were just asking for trouble. Or at least that’s what I thought, even as a small child. I’d sit in that chair totally stiff, staring at that deep fat fryer, willing it to stay on the counter. I was afraid it would vibrate itself off the counter for one thing. When that thing was frying in full force it sort of jumped around. I was afraid it would get to the edge of the counter and my mother wouldn’t see it. She might not re-position it and it’s would come crashing to the floor with hot oil flying everywhere. Or she or my dad might sway just a bit and bump into it. Then they’d be burned on the arm or worse. They might bump it AND it might go flying. I was terrorized.

I ate my French fries though, and I was glad when dinner was over. I’ve never gotten over what never happened. Kids are like that.

So when Plan Z Diet Column reader Helen sent me this piece on kitchen fires I decided you all had to see it. Pay close attention. You could save your life and your home. It’s not exactly the same as the dancing pot of oil. It’s worse. If you listen closely you’ll notice she refers to it as “your chip pan”. That’s English for French fries. Be careful out there. Your kitchen can be a dangerous place.

Cheers,

To read more of Zola's blogs CLICK HERE or head over to https://www.planzdiet.com/blog/