On Sunday morning I decided to make pancakes for breakfast. As I was preparing to measure some liquid in my Pyrex measuring cup, it slipped from my hand and fell into the empty bowl on the counter. When I lifted it out — no sign of Pyrex damage — I noticed a chip in the bottom of my bowl. Closer inspection revealed a crack across the whole bottom, to about halfway up the side. My favorite bowl was broken and beyond repair. Not that this was any special bowl, but I'd had it for more than ten years, and it was just the perfect size and I used it for everything. I pressed on. We ate the pancakes but they didn't taste very good.
Last night I roasted a chicken and for some reason, rather than placing the bird in my cast iron skillet, I decided to use my (here's that word again) favorite roasting dish, an Emile Henry piece I picked up ages ago. Everything was going along fine in the kitchen and I could hear the bird sizzling and spitting away in the oven (I was using the Keller high-heat method, as referenced here). Then I noticed the apartment was filling with smoke. I looked at the stove and smoke was pouring out. I turned on the oven light and saw that my roasting dish had cracked right in half and the fat and juices were dripping out of the chicken onto the bottom of the oven!
We opened a lot of windows, located the fire extinguisher just in case, and kept an eye on the oven until the bird was done. Sadness filled me as I extracted our chicken. My favorite roasting dish was no more. I'm not sure why it broke. The oven was hot, 450°, but I thought that dish could handle that heat. Maybe it got bonked beforehand and had a small crack going in? I'll never know, but from now on I'll use my skillet for chicken.
What's weird is I hardly ever break anything, and within four days, two favorite kitchen items have broken in half. I'm hesitant to do anything in the kitchen until my bad luck passes. From now on, I'll stick to delivery or going out.