I’ve developed a simple trick to keep from turning on the oven while something’s inside. Any time I have to leave something in the oven I reposition the dishtowel which usually hangs on the oven handle so it’s draped over the edge of the door. Since it’s an in-the-wall model with the controls just above the door, it’s impossible to turn the oven on without noticing that the towel is hanging half inside the oven. This also serves to remind my to put away the leftover ham or roast which I put back in the oven while eating so the cats wouldn’t get at it.
The Pyrex thing happened to me when I was a teenager, and I agree: why the hell make something in the shape of a pot unless it can be used as a pot?
Fortunately I was in the other room when the Pyrex “pot” full of boiling water on the stovetop exploded, sending boiling water and glass shrapnel all over the kitchen. I learned a dramatic lesson that day: the Pyrex people are mean mofos.
Daniel
My nephews are wonderful guys, but brainless at times. My eldest nephew couldn’t find room in the cupboard for the Tupperware/plasticware, so what does he do?
Put it in the oven, of course.
Youngest nephew, not looking in the oven, turns it on to make a pizza.
After a few minutes, the stench of burning plastic filled the air. He grabs a pot holder (I give him credit for that!), opens the oven, and whips out the melting plastic.
On to the carpeted floor. Where it fused into a delightful brown/light green/light blue coagulated mess.
The oven was rendered unusable. However, since the building was being torn down in (what was to be) 3 months (turned out to be 6!), the landlord would not spring for a new range. Keeping in mind the building was going to be torn down, the landlord still tried to withhold part of their damage deposit for ruining 30 year old carpet and range.
My family once rented a house out in the country that had been tenantless for some time before we moved in. The first or second night we were there, my father decided to make a quiche. We got everything whipped up in the kitchen, turned on the oven, and put in the quiche.
What we did not know at the time was over the winter a herd of field mice had built nests inside the oven’s insulation. And that when these mice got old and died, they didn’t do it far from home. Meanwhile, we sat in the living room watching TV, blissfully unaware of what was about to happen. And then we smelled it.
Oh my god, the smell. The rotting fur and flesh of dozens of dessicated mouse corpses heated to 350 degrees produces a stench like no other. It was so foul, we had to spend the night elsewhere. It took an entire day of airing out the house just to make it tolerable (and by tolerable I mean not giving us a physical urge to vomit.) Needless to say, we did not eat the quiche.
My housemate stored a one time use, charcoal filled aluminum foil grill in the oven. Imagine my surprise when I found it while preheating the oven. Thank Og it didn’t burn down the house.
Twit.
Corning Visions is Pyrex.
Either your brother did something other than just use his Pyrex pan on the stovetop or his pan was defective.