We on A Book of Cookrye have had a long night. You see, being tired of the oven smelling like something's burning every time we turned it on, I decided it clearly needed cleaning, so I started the cycle at night (when it's cool enough to open the house). It wasn't thirty minutes before the smoke turned yellow and the kitchen was in a deep fog. The little window on the oven door got so smoked it turned opaque. Vaguely remembering that yellow smoke is a sign of something or other that I'm pretty sure is ominous, I turned it off and accepted that I'd be scouring it myself.
Have you ever cleaned an oven? I don't mean wipe up a spill or two, I mean scoured off a really stuck-on layer of burnt, rancid grease while muttering furiously how the hell did my oven get this nasty? Well, if you spend 2 hours, 2 boxes of baking soda, every rag in the house, and half of the big jug of vinegar before it's clean enough to make it clean itself, you'll decide you deserve...
|Woman's Club of Fort Worth Cook Book, 1928|