The other night I was cooking dinner for the kids while they were watching Liv & Maddie, their new obsession about two highschoolers, when I singed the hell out of my hand as I went to grab the pan. Though I screamed at the top of my lungs it was like…crickets. I peered in the other room to find three sets of blue eyes staring at the TV, while my flesh began to blister. While this certainly wasn’t my first cooking boo boo, I like to put it in perspective: my dear friend who’s an executive chef at a high-end London restaurant not only has plenty of burns and cuts, he basically has sciatica and shit from being on his feet all day. At that level, I think you’re just you-know-what. This post is an ode to my some day stove, the Lacanche range (which Bon Appetit called “a culinary beast”), which is so pretty, it might make home cooking a little lovelier and perhaps less hurried. Eventually the kids rolled in, one by one, to ask if I was okay. By that time Liv & Maddie were basically being dropped off at college and ironically, I could only find Disney band-aids to adorn my wound.