So Monday morning I head off to work, my slow cooker loaded with the makings of this split pea soup. I set it for eight hours on low, and off I went. When I came home, I was surprised to find that it hadn't switched itself to "warm" mode, but was completely off, and the soup was underdone. I put it on for a few more hours, but put the soup in the fridge before I headed off to bed. Oddly, I woke up stupidly early the next morning, so I took out the slow cooker, put the soup on high with the idea that I could finish it and then take some to work, and fell back asleep until my alarm went off.
Before getting in the shower, I checked the soup, declared it done, but wasn't thrilled with the consistency. I pulled out the large pork shoulder bones and the meat and then gave it a quick buzz with the immersion blender. All was going well when suddenly, soup splattered EVERYWHERE and the blender stopped. Now, my kitchen is not that big, and when I say everywhere, I mean everywhere. Surveying the damage, I decided that I should ladle the soup into containers and move the slow cooker so that I could clean up. I inspected the immersion blender and noticed that a small (maybe 1-1 1/2") piece of bone had gotten caught in it. Argh.
I began ladling the soup into quart containers and in my caffeine-deprived, irritated state, I somehow managed to ladle scalding hot soup ONTO MY HAND. Shrieking, I put down the ladle, spun around to the sink, and ran cold water on it. In that moment with my hand throbbing in agony and soup all over my kitchen, I couldn't help it -- the tears started flowing. I somehow managed to clean up while giving my hand doses of cold water, and I even managed to pack a small container of soup for lunch.
Later that day, after several doses of Advil, with my hand wrapped in magical burn band-aids (seriously -- it's healing wonderfully thanks to these beauties), I tasted the devil soup. It was quite tasty, I'll admit, but I did find tiny pieces of bone in it. That said, I can now see the humor in the whole situation. I should have taken some pictures for you all . . .