It was during the making of these adorable hand pies that I realized something was seriously wrong with my oven. Now, something has always been wrong with my oven, principally that it’s half the size of an oven fit for use by a full-grown human. But alas, to add to my already handicapped appliance, no sooner had I preheated it and inserted my first tray of pies than I realized that my entryway was filled with a pretty thick cloud of smoke. Within seconds, of course, my smoke detector was screeching, cats were scattering under furniture and I was sure that one of my neighbors, alarmed at the smoke that could likely now be smelled in the hallway, would knock on my door to make sure I wasn’t burning the building down. Was I? I wasn’t sure.
