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Chad Saunders

My Latest Brush With Death

by Chad Saunders []
Published on 21/2/07 in Food & Drink
A Master Chef shares secrets on how not to kill yourself in the kitchen.
Burning to death has got to be one of the worst ways to die. If I ever was to burn to death, I would hope that it was over something really important, like saving a baby, or my DVD collection...

But I probably wouldn't be very content with burning to death over perogies.

Some of you might be saying, "What the fuck is a perogie?" A perogie is like the Polish version of ravioli (little pasta pouches filled with potato and onion/cheese/etc). I buy them at the local market, but they taste like they're made by angels in heaven. Yesterday, I was very close to becoming one of those angels.

As I was on my way home from the club last night, I was struck by this fierce pang of hunger. Do I take the easy road and swing by Del Taco, or do I spend some quality time in the kitchen and whip up some of these little gifts from God sitting in my freezer? I chose the latter option.

So, I'm all set up in the kitchen--ready to saute some onions, chop bell peppers, and combine the perfect blend of butter, spices, and olive oil, because I'm gourmet like that. Got some good tunes on. Got my fruit punch. This is all standard operating procedure. See, I think I'm a Master Chef. The reality is I'm just slightly better than average, with a few good recipes up my sleeve. I've never really had much of a problem beyond burning the occasional meatloaf; however, last night my kitchen threw me a curveball.

I haven't lived in this house very long, a little over 2 months. I use the stove practically once a day, but always the front burners. ALWAYS. But last night, for some reason, the front right burner wouldn't start up. I figured, "Whatever, I'm versatile. Hell, I'm a Master Chef. Let's throw this shit on the back burner and get on with it." Now we're cookin'!  A few minutes pass, the onions get to that perfect crispy brown, filling the kitchen with that sweet sweet smell.  It's time for this ceremony to commence.

I shut off the stove, go to the sink, and drain my perogies. I turn back around and see that there's still a raging fire going on the stove...

I turned it off, right??? At first I thought maybe I twisted the wrong knob; after all, I am using this back burner for the first time. So I give it a little tweakage and nothing happens. I kneel down and get a good look in between the grills and see this huge puddle of coagulated grease way in the back of the stove... just blazing away.

FUCK ME.

This is where the panic slowly starts to seep in. Just a little bit at a time, though. I'm pretty collected at first; after all, it's not that big of a fire. Do I really need to call the Fire Department all the way out here just so they can point and laugh at me??? Fuck those guys, I'm a Master Chef, I can deal with this. Maybe I'll just chop up some more onions and let it burn off. Only this grease fire wasn't fucking around. Within a minute it had DOUBLED in size. It was coming out of two of the four burners now. Where's the fire extinguisher?! Do we even have one?!? Of course not...

Turn the panic dial up a notch.

I decide I better call the Fire Department, just to be on the safe side.  I rush to get my phone, only to remember that my phone had died at the club two hours ago. I have a Treo 700; the guy at the store said it's a "smart phone." The downside of having a phone with such a powerful brain is that when your battery dies, it doesn't just boot up the second you plug it in. Sometimes you have to wait a few minutes for it to get a little juice before it will even turn on. I DON'T HAVE A COUPLE OF MINUTES. In a couple of minutes my kitchen is going to look like a scene from Backdraft.

So turn the panic dial up another notch.

FUCK IT CHAD, YOU'RE A MASTER CHEF, A MAN OF ACTION, GET SOME HELP!!!! Grab the neighbors, have them call the fire department, maybe they have a fire extinguisher. Figure it out. I run out of the house and start banging on the neighbor's door, ringing the doorbell like a coked up Girl Scout. Mind you, this is 4:00 am.

My neighbors are a very nice family from Pakistan. The husband speaks enough English for casual conversation whenever we cross paths coming and going from our daily business, but for the most part they just keep to themselves. So when I'm practically busting down his door at the wee hours of the night, he's literally scared shitless. I finally get him to open the door and explain the situation as best I can. He doesn't have a fire extinguisher either. His wife calls 911 and we rush back into the blazing kitchen...

Now the fire has spread to about 3 of the burners, and it's getting higher. Next notch please. Apparently my neighbor doesn't have notches on his panic dial, he just has a switch. He instantly loses his shit. So now I have some frantic Pakistani running back and forth through my kitchen, screaming "TURN IT OFF, TURN IT OFF!!"

I remember yelling back, "IT'S A FUCKING GREASE FIRE, YOU CAN'T JUST TURN IT OFF!!! BE QUIET!!! YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE IT WORSE!!!!" (In retrospect, I realize that loud voices really have little effect on the spread of fire; however, at the time this made perfect sense to me.)
 
"THROW THE WATER ON IT!!!"
 
"WHAT!!?!? YOU DON'T THROW WATER ON A GREASE FIRE!!!! YOU'RE NOT HELPING!!! IF THIS WAS YOUR HOUSE WE'D ALL BE DEAD!!!!"

"THIS NOT MY HOUSE!!!! YOU DID THIS!!!!"

Now the fire is raging through all 4 burners. It's gotten tall enough that it's begun to start hitting the fan of the microwave. The microwave starts to spark. The smoke is really getting thick; it's burning my eyes and getting hard to breathe. I have some crazed foreigner shouting obscenities at me in a language I don't understand.

Fuck notches, my panic dial breaks off.

Bear down Chad. These are the moments that separate the Master Chefs from some bitch boy in an apron. I run upstairs and rip the down comforter off my bed. I come rushing down the steps, back into the kitchen, and throw it over the stove. This smothers the flames somewhat, but the fire is still raging below. I keep patting it down trying my best to cut off any avenues of oxygen, but I'm obviously just delaying the inevitable. The smoke is intense. I hold my breath for as long as I can, quickly sticking my head in the refrigerator whenever I need to breathe again. I hear sirens.

After a minute or two, the fire begins to burn through the top of my comforter. I run upstairs and grab my duvet comforter. Run back down and throw it right on top of the other one. Sirens are getting louder. Another minute or two pass, and I just try to concentrate on isolating the flames.  My head's in the fridge getting fresh air when all of a sudden some guy in a fire suit grabs me by my shirt and practically tosses me out the front door.  

I realized this must have looked ridiculous to him.  I have a raging open flame 3 feet away from me, thick smoke billowing throughout the house, and I have my head in the fridge like I'm trying to save the string cheese.  I can hear him underneath his helmet...

 "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!??!?!  GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!!!!!"
 
They pull me out into the street, and I start to see all the neighbors staring out their windows and coming out into the street. They all just got woken up and look like shit in their ridiculous pajamas. Nonetheless, all eyes are on me.

Some of you could probably relate to this, like if you've ever been in a car accident and you're standing around waiting for the cops, all the traffic slows down to look at you and what your stupid ass did. You feel like a total idiot. Well, this is worse, because these aren't random strangers in passing. You have to live next to these people. You can tell they're like, "Oh great, I have to live next to this fucking guy, he can't even use the stove." Doesn't help my reputation as Master Chef much.

After the firemen put everything out, they said that using those comforters to smother and isolate the fire probably saved half the house. But on the downside, those comforters are filled with MILLIONS of tiny goose feathers. LITERALLY MILLIONS. So now the entire downstairs level of my house is COVERED in this shit. Plus, when the firemen dragged the charred comforters out into the front yard, they were spilling it everywhere. They don't care. They don't have to pick this shit up. One of them was even kicking the damn thing around, sending "gooseness" everywhere. I'm like, "What are you doing?!"

Official Answer - Looking for fire. 
 
All in all, there wasn't too much damage. Really more of a mess. The oven and microwave are shot, plus my entire neighborhood looks like a chicken farm, but thanks to the valiant efforts of the LVFD and my Master Chef skills I was able to salvage most of the kitchen, my roommate's protein powder, and 2 perogies.

They never tasted so good...


THE AFTERMATH

stove

stove_2 

wall

In the Battle of MAN vs. MACHINE, MAN WINS.
chad_thumbs_up

The Innocent Victims (Perogies seasoned with ash)
pierogies


My Door
door 

My Neighbor's Door
neighbor_door


What's Left of My Comforters Laid Out On The Curb Like A Silly Bitch
comforter

 
The Cold Hard Stare of a MASTER CHEF.
master_chef


Can't Fuck With That.

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26 Comments

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Rebecca

Rebecca Kelley
Your account of what happened is probably one of the funniest things I've read in a while. Kudos to you, good sir.

By the way, pierogies are the shiznit. Written on 21/2/07

bugmenot

UnBugged
Just for future reference, use baking soda to combat a grease fire.

When it starts, grab the baking soda that's absorbing odors in your refrigerator, and use it to smother the fire and absorb the grease.

Sure, cleaning up baking soda sucks, but so does cleaning up millions of goose down feathers. ;-)

At least you didn't throw water on it! ;-) Written on 21/2/07

Edward

Edward
Fuck that's funny, what a champ! Damn firefighters spilling feathers everywhere, heh. Written on 22/2/07

JaneCopland

Jane
I just worked out that you are you. Hello, Edward. Moo. Written on 22/2/07

Edward

Edward
Moo :) Written on 22/2/07

popawoody

William Thackrey
Well, on the upside, this story wasn't an obit. Baking soda came to my mind also but I doubt one box would have handled a big grease fire. The comforter was a very good idea, but why you didn't stop by the bathroom and soak it with water first is a bit of a puzzle. Water thrown directly onto a grease fire, as you pointed out to your neighbor, won't do anything more than give you a grease fire buring on a wet stove. If you had soaked the comforter, however, it would have smothered the flames without catching fire itself. No fuss, no feathers, no firemen. This tip given just in case you encounter a second "once in a lifetime" grease fire. Written on 22/2/07

Lisafer

Lisa Salim
First, I'm glad you're okay. Second, I'm highly entertained by the tone of your story. The fact that you can be funny under such conditions speaks well of you. And third,

Tonight I'm making pierogi in your honor. Written on 22/2/07

rigor_mortis

Kim
It's been a while since I pissed my pant reading... but this one did it. I'm not if I want to thank you or send you a bill. Written on 22/2/07

mr_president

Thomas Crosby
Well, I pissed and crapped myself while reading this story.

I won't lie to you: I've been drinking. Written on 22/2/07

richardhenry

Richard Henry
I pissed, crapped, vomited, and bled from the nose! It was THAT good! Written on 22/2/07

mr_president

Thomas Crosby
...Dad? Written on 22/2/07

JaneCopland

Jane
The photos are just classic. This was wonderful, Chad. Keep 'em coming. Written on 22/2/07

Marcelo

Marcelo Jenisch
Even if your whole house had burned down, it would be worth it just so the world could read this. Written on 22/2/07

kngof9ex

KNGOF9EX
You are a retard for throwing a blanket on the fire Written on 22/2/07

richardhenry

Richard Henry
A blanket cuts off the oxygen? The fire department even commented on how it probably saved half the house. It's not like he said 'so I quickly attempted to smother the fire with petrol drizzled toilet paper.'

Jeez... Written on 22/2/07

richardhenry

Richard Henry
This is hilarious, I just had to mention you. You've been blogged!

http://www.interactiverichard.co.uk/journal/chad-saunders-has-a-brush-with-death/ Written on 22/2/07

CygnusX1

CygnusX1
You must write professionally, or something very close, like blogging ;) Very well done!

PS: GET A FIRE EXTINGUISHER!!! foo' Written on 22/2/07

vonneuton

Brian Kane
There really is nothing like a surprise fire, is there? One time I woke up to realize that the water heater in my apartment had magically caught fire because the apartment owners hadn't fixed the air conditioning and the water overflow spilled over the electric heating elements sending flame shooting out the little metal grilles on the door.

Of course, my useless dog (who will never be in a newspaper as saving our lives) didn't wake me up! She was still asleep when the smoke detector went off. :P Written on 22/2/07

Penelope

Lydia Ramos
Wow that was awesomely well written and it sucks you had to go through it but you know what? YOU ARE A MASTER CHEF! One fire isn't going to stop you... Written on 23/2/07

leafish_paul

Paul Byrne
I have one of those 'smart phones'. I pray to the high heavens that I've got it replaced by the time my shit hits the fan. I won't have time for Windows CE to boot.

Great story - reminds me of a time a mate's next door neighbour had to call 999 when he pulled a pizza out of the oven, fumbled and dropped it on his bare legs (it was late - he was in his boxers) and was so overcome by searing mozzarella and piping hot tomato juices he had to just lay there waiting for the ambulance, whimpering.

He was on crutches the next day, with minor burns to the upper thighs. Written on 26/2/07

iamderrick

Derrick
The thing to do is dump a bag of flour on it, that will smother the flames better than a down comforter...=P Written on 6/3/07

joannegmurph

joanne g murphy
...And all that for perogies?! Written on 6/3/07

Skizzi

Paul
That is some funny shit. Glad you're alright and I feel your pain(cause I've been there), but damn I never laughed so hard. Written on 14/3/07

lockusallup

Rose
That's HILARIOUS.

I was reading it in the same room as a nine-year-old boy, and he was pestering me about why I was laughing, so I read it to him. I must say that I was proud of my ability to change the curse words to "acceptable substitutes" while still keeping the flow.

I commend you, Master Chef, for your Quick Thinking In The Face Of Fire And Angry Neighbor Men. Written on 17/3/07

Markus

Markus
This was kinda funny for me as I had a similar incident.

I came home late from a night at the pub and decided I wanted to make some prawn crackers like I had in a restaraunt the week before. And I even already bought the fixings!

So I wasn't the most experienced with a gas stove, not realizing they heat up fast. I was living overseas at the time and back in North America most people use eletric stovetops.

Well, I put some oil in a wok and turned up the flame and left to find the prawn cracker chips that were in the other room. While looking through the closet I heard a faint but strange noise.

Sort of a woof, or poof sound. In the back of my mind I knew what had happened.

I ran back to the kitchen and the flames were at least 6 feet high out of the wok and licking the ceiling.

The smoke given off from the oil burning was so thick within 30 seconds there were soot cob webs hanging from the ceiling.

I didn't have any notches and went straight to panic mode.
Fortunately I was thinking a little.

My first reaction was to throw water into it. The sink was right there and an empty bowl was just sitting there taunting me.

I also though about picking up the wok and trying to take it outside. The door was near. Good thing I didn't try coz I probably would have ended up with nasty burns or dropped it and the fire spread.

Fortunately, I didn't try to smother or dowse it or it probably would have be a bad ending. I decided to let it burn itself out as it was contained to the wok and the flames were dying down. The roof was already fucked so it didn't matter anymore.

The moral of the story, probably in both cases, drinking and cooking don't mix.

By the way, you have to try perogies with sour cream and chopped up bacon bits. Written on 18/3/07

jchris_124

Jim Ensz
My veiw on greese fires has always been to smother the fire with Kosher salt. Being a Master Chef and all, I figure you might have a bit of that in the house. Might work next time. Written on 8/4/08

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