So, I'm back to cooking on a fairly regular basis.

Well, at least somewhat regular.

Once or twice in the past two weeks, anyway. Still, the oven has been used at least twice (and so what if both of those times were to make gluten- and lactose-free pizza?), and the range more times than I could count on one hand (assuming you count each element fired up in a single cooking session as a separate usage). And I'm re-learning some things about the whole cooking experience. The first thing, and this was a vital fact that I had forgotten, is that if you apply an energy source (fire, for example) to or near a piece of metal (an frying pan, for example) that piece of metal will remain hot for some time after the energy source is removed. You can use an audio clue for this, such as the sizzling of gluten-free soy sauce in the pan.

Another thing I learned, related but distinct from the above, is that I have a need to more finely hone my sense of self-preservation. I realized this when I had my head inside my oven, attempting to figure out how where I should put the match I was holding in order to light the gas that had just started to run through the oven. The pilot light isn't working, you see, and well, the smell of gas had evidently addled my brain.

Having a house-warming dinner on Friday night. Need to think of a menu for it. I'm thinking post-modern Sino American fusion (which is to say, ordering out for Chinese). This might be somewhat problematic because Ally refuses to eat Chinese food after (oddly enough) a trip to China. I think it had something to do with the fact that they put ice cream sprinkles on shrimp. It's all a little unclear, but I don't think it was the culinary aspect that she was objecting to, but rather the fact that they called them 'jimmies.'