Well, now that you’ve probably seen the melee that was our Fourth Of July Lunch (see post below), it’s time to show you my battle scars. Well, battle SCAR. Just one, but it’s a beauty.

It used to be a pretty coral hue (which I heard is the summer’s hottest—pun intended—color trend), but has now mottled into a dull, pink-and-brown-speckled, 2-inch monstrosity on the underside of my left arm. (Sorry for the gross factor!)

In all my years of cooking, I’ve had many mishaps in the kitchen. Case in point: I’ve actually burned my FOOT baking. I know that sounds strange, and it happened because I took out a heated rack from the oven, placed it on the floor thinking I’d be quick about it removing it, wasn’t wearing slippers, and of course, as Murphy dictates, promptly stepped on the hot metal. That wasn’t too bad, but I’d have to say, this recent one is the winner.

And I’m sheepish when I tell people about how I got the burn because it’s pure vanity! I was peeking at the Peach Pie in the oven about halfway through its cooking time, and it was browning beautifully. There I was, crouching in front of the open oven with a stupid grin on my face, saying to myself, “Hello Pie, you are so pretty. You are coming along so…WHOOPS, did I just lean on the inside of the hot oven door?!?”

Yes, I did. Duh.

And did I have burn cream ready for the rescue in a handy spot? Of course not. Never have, but really SHOULD! Or at least have aloe vera in a pot. Because I am, after all, not just a nurse’s daughter, but the daughter of a mom who gardens like it’s a Olympic sport. But well, because my curls make it doubly hard for instructions to seep into my brain, I didn’t have a cream with lidocaine in it that would work, and the closest thing to aloe vera in the house is a mini cactus ornamental plant (which would’ve been a BAD idea).

And so, sighing in resignation (and trying not to cry), I went through the standard list of things I do whenever I burn myself. Depending on the severity, one of these usually does the trick. This past weekend, numbers 1 and 2 worked, but I’m sharing all of them with you, in case you’re also a student of the Guerilla Cooking School: Yes, you have all the pots, pans and utensils imaginable, but you don’t have burn cream ANYWHERE. (But really, you should!)

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The Girl With A Curl’s “BURN, BE GONE!” List

1) Run/submerge burn area under very cold water for several minutes.

2) Follow-up with ice pack (or frozen pack of peas, or frozen anything. Yes, I’ve gone the bacon route in times of desperation.)

3) Take an egg from the fridge and break open, spread egg white on burned part (do not listen to the voice in your head screaming “Salmonella! Salmonella!”). This is actually very soothing.

4) Mix baking soda with very cold water and form into a grainy paste, spread on affected area. (Thanks to my Lola Luz, who believed baking soda could cure everything.)

5) If you burn a finger, stick it into a halved cold tomato. (Again, do not listen to the “Salmonella!” screams. For those of you reading this outside the US, we currently have a salmonella scare from fresh tomatoes.)

6) If the area is un-stickable into a tomato, spread toothpaste on it. Aaah, minty fresh!

7) For a large burn area, after cooling it substantially, follow with religious applications of antibiotic cream, Neosporin recommended, to prevent scarring.

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I scar easily and will probably have to deal with this for a long time. Which is kind of ok, considering the delightful looks of horror I see on people’s faces when I hold up my arm. And well, the scar has a story to tell; that was the best pie I’ve made in my life. Besides, doesn’t Padma Lakshmi from Top Chef say her scar makes her sexy? Heehee.

Do you have any burn remedies?

It’s been four days since the burn happened, and it isn’t painful anymore, just unbelievably itchy. Like “I-think-evil-caterpillars-from-Hades-are-swarming-it” itchy.

The moral of this post is: In the kitchen, you can crash, but try not to burn. And as my mom always likes to say: “Saaaafe behavioooorrr!”

Take care out there!