Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Lenore Wants a Dutch Oven, Part 1

(Lenore comes into my office.  I'm at my desk typing.)

Lenore: Hello mister.  Do you know how to cook brisket?

Me: Uh, no, but I bet I could figure it out.

L: Debbie was telling me about an iron or heavy metal type of pot for the oven and everything.  It does brisket.

Me: Like an iron clad skillet or something?

L: Does that have a top for it?

Me: Oh, a dutch oven?

L: Wha--what's it called again?

Me: A. Dutch. Oven.

L: (snaps fingers) Yes!  That's exactly it.  Aren't they heavy?

Me: Oh, I guess.  Not too bad.  They'll last you forever though.

L: I don't know how I'll carry it to my car if it's heavy.  You know, I just can't...(makes gesture like she's lifting something as heavy as a year old child and gives up mid-lift).

Me: Just ask a clerk to help you bring it out to your car.  You know, when you buy it.

L: But then I don't know how I'll get it out of my car when I get home either.  Maybe I'll bring a cart or something.

Me: I don't know if they're that heavy.  Maybe like 10 pounds.

L: Too heavy.

Me: Okay, how are you going to cook with it?  I mean, you can't carry it from the store to your car, you can't carry it from your car to your house, how are you going to pick it up and put it in your oven?  How are you even going to get it out of the box?  You're acting like it's an anvil.

L: I can have someone help me put it in the stove.  Or I'll just leave it on the stove and use it and clean it from time to time.  Are they hard to clean?

Me: Lenore.  Just order a pizza.  This sounds too complicated. 

L: I want a dutch oven.


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