Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“Almost. I would give it another minute or two.”
“Okay. Thanks,” I say, disconnecting again. I wait about a minute, grabbing a plate and placing them in it. When I have them all off, I put the pan back on the stove, adding the seitan. The sound of sizzle starts again. “Oh, shit,” I say, trying to grab a fork to flip the pieces, but it’s stuck to the pan. “What the fuck?” I try to pick them up, but the pieces are turning black so fast.
I call Lauren right away. “Why is the seitan sticking to the pan?”
“I have no idea.”
“I scraped the peppers and onions out and then added the seitan like the recipe said.”
“Did you add some more oil?”
“No, it didn’t say to.” I check the paper. “Okay, I’ll add some now.” I pour some oil into the pan, but I guess it was too hot because it smells right away of burn. I take the pot off the heat. “I added oil and it smells burnt.”
“The pot was too hot,” she tells me like it’s something everyone should know. “You need to lower the heat while you cook the meat. Then just add the veggies again.”
“Okay. Remind me to never cook this shit again,” I tell her, tossing my phone on the counter, waiting for the pot to cool down, the oil being absorbed into the seitan. I lower the temperature on the stove and place the pan back on. When the seitan starts browning instead of blackening, I’m thinking I got this under control. I grab the bread, slicing it in half and placing it on the cookie sheet while I open the oven.
I look down at convention or bake. The sheet says bake, so I press that button and put the buns in. I add the peppers to the seitan and put it on simmer so it stays warm.
I go into the living room and light some of the candles from last night. I go to the table and see if there is anything I can set the table with. A beep sounds from the oven, so I go over and check on the bread. Opening the door, the smell of burning and smoke make my eyes burn. Grabbing a cloth, I take the cookie sheet out of the oven. I notice I pressed broil instead of bake. “Shit,” I say, pressing the right button this time. Thankfully, the bag came with six buns.
Placing the buns in the oven, I set a timer for four minutes just to make sure. I grab the vegan provolone out of the bag, going to the oven and placing them into the buns so they can melt at the same time. Once the timer rings, I open the oven, taking out the buns with the melted cheese. I start putting the seitan at the bottom and placing the peppers and onions on the top. I place it back into the oven. I press the warm button to keep the sandwiches hot. Happy with my progress, I start cleaning up and come across the buns that are burnt. I hear the front door open and slam shut. Panic fills me as I take in the buns. I grab them up and toss them in the garbage and place the garbage on top of it.
“Honey, I’m home.” I hear from behind me. I turn, trying to get the look of despair out of my eyes.
“Hey.” I smile over at him. I should have gotten naked. This way he wouldn’t notice the burnt bread. “Just in time. Supper is ready.”
“Is it now?” he says, putting the cases on the counter and taking out a couple of bottles of white wine. “I’m told this is a vegan wine. I can’t confirm that she didn’t lie to me,” he says, showing me the label which is in fact a vegan wine.
“Awww, aren’t you sweet?” I grab a couple of wine glasses from the island that I found earlier. “Why don’t you pour the wine, and I’ll bring in the food?”
He comes closer to me. “I like seeing you here in my home. Cooking for me.” He leans down, whispering the last part before he places a kiss on my lips. I’m about to go one step further by slipping my tongue into his mouth, but the beep from the oven lets me know that the warming is done.
He nods his head, opening a drawer and taking out a cork screw. I open the oven, grabbing a rag, and bringing the cookie sheet out. The hoagies look amazing if I do say so myself.
Placing a hoagie on one plate and then the other, I carry both plates to the dining room. The sun is starting to set and with no light on it’s almost like it’s dim.