I love Thai food. I crave the stuff it's so good.
A few months ago I decided it would be a good idea to attempt one of my favorite dishes. I dutifully went online and searched for something that looked yummy. Mmmmmm yummy Thai food! I settled on a thai basil chicken dish and went off in search of the long list of ingredients at my local market.
Once home, I gather the required ingredients and begin chopping and measuring everything out. So far so good. Until I open the bottle of fish sauce. That stuff smells like death. I shrug and soldier on, carefully measuring out the required amount to marinate the chicken. I pause.
The smell warns me to stop immediately.
So I continue. My Thai food cravings were just too great.
I heat my skillet on high. It's a stir fry after all. Maybe the smell goes away with cooking??? I add my chicken to the skillet...
Husband from across the house "What's that smell?"
I hurriedly open ALL the doors and windows, thinking that will help. The baby is crying. The kitchen gets smoky. I take the pan off the stove. Throw everything away. Double bag it. Triple bag it. The smell of death is all over the house.
Days of scrubbing counters, cabinets, walls, even the ceiling and the smell of death is still with me.
Betty Crapper strikes again.