That looks like a lovely bowl of homemade chicken curry and rice, right? And it was. Too bad that one serving is the only bit that survived my kitchen exploits yesterday. I can hardly believe what I did. Sometimes I imagine all manners of horrible disasters that could happen and then I thank my lucky stars that they’re just in my head. Unfortunately yesterday one of them became a reality. But let me start at the beginning. On Tuesday I made a batch of curry sauce using this recipe from Three Many Cooks. This sauce was a different than any other curry I’ve made because it required me to puree an onion and a bell pepper before adding the traditional ingredients (coconut milk, tomato paste, and spices). At least I got to used the Magic Bullet blender than I bought many years ago after watching an infomercial in the wee hours of the morning. Not my best purchase. Since I didn’t have enough time to slow cook the chicken curry that night I put the sauce in the fridge to wait for a less busy evening. On Thursday night I threw the sauce into my Crockpot with some diced chicken and cooked it for about four hours before I decided it was done. This was my fourth attempt at making chicken curry, but it smelled fantastic so I had high hopes for this batch. Dan and I didn’t eat the curry for dinner that night because it took so long to cook, so I dumped the contents of my Crockpot into a large Corningware dish and put it in the fridge. Finally yesterday I decided I was going to eat some of the meal I’d been preparing for the last four days. I spooned a single serving into a bowl and put it into the microwave to reheat. There was still a lot of the curry left so I was going to put it back in the fridge for another meal. This is when it all went wrong. The big Corningware dish had some condensation on the outside and it slipped out of my hands I was was trying to hoist it onto the top shelf. Can you picture this? The dish fell onto the kitchen floor, shattered, and bright orange curry sauce went everywhere. My new New Balance shoes were covered in it and my jeans were pretty well coated as well. The sauce was also on the inside of the fridge, the outside of the fridge, and on the front of the oven. I stood there in shock for a few seconds before I ran outside to shed my sneakers and start cleaning up. Dan was kind enough to hose off my shoes before any permanent damage was done. It took a while, but I managed to remove all signs of my clumsiness from the kitchen and the only lasting damage is a broken piece of plastic in the refrigerator (the top of the meat and cheese drawer). I still can’t believe it happened, though. From now on I’m going to be extra careful when I’m putting stuff away.