Speaking of Tempura...

I briefly mentioned in my most recent post that the last time I tried to make tempura, the fire department paid me a visit. In thinking about it further, I recall that I wrote a kind of ridiculous poem about that incident. I figured I might as well dig it up from the depths of Facebook past and share it here, seeing as how it's cooking-related and all.  

Disclaimer: I am not a poet.

In any event, for your reading pleasure, I present:

Valentine's Day 2013: The Burnening

Twas Valentine's night, and great plans had been laid.
A wonderful meal was soon to be made.
The rice was well steamed and the cucumbers tossed.
I was just waiting for the shrimp to defrost.

I breaded the pork chops with the utmost care,
And garnished the dishes with stylistic flare.
The oil was heated, and ready to go.
God, this meal preparation was slow!

I doubled my efforts, and tried to make haste,
Without sacrificing the delicious taste.
Into my cauldron, I placed the pork chops,
And watched the oil sizzle and pop.

All seemed quite well, until smoke filled the air.
"Holy crap! Oh my God! Shit!" I solemnly sweared.
The sound of alarm bells rang through the apartments.
And I got a visit from the fire department.