On October 8th, 1871, a great fire raged through several square miles of Chicago. Popular opinion still blames Blaze O’Leary, a tenant of the O’Leary barn for an incident which sparked the horrific flames. The rumors state that Blaze knocked over a lantern, setting the barn afire, and eventually leaving a hundred thousand people homeless. However, some would say the truth in this particular situation is far stranger than fiction.
Stooped over the stove top, Blaze carefully mixed four cups of heavy whipping cream, nine egg yolks, and a ¾ cup of white sugar in a saucepan. Cooking had always been a labor of love for her, and tonight was an extra special occasion. Kuh Liebhaber, a fire fighter for the city of Chicago, had recently set her heart on aflame by getting down on one knee and asking her to be his heifer for the rest of time. Reminiscing, she placed the ramekins in neat rows in a baking pan, adding one inch of water to the bottom. Admiring her handy work of creme brulee filled containers, she scraped a hoof around the interior of the bowl, and licked it clean with her capable tongue. Ms. O’leary had tirade about salmonila but Blaze always made very certain not to cook with any raw salmons. She heated the oven to 325 degrees, and set a timer for thirty minutes. When the timer sounded, Blaze lovingly lifted each ramekin from its water bath with oven-mittened hoves. The four hour chill requirement would give her plenty of extra time to get ready, she always made it a priority to look nice for Kuh.
Looking deeply into her reflection in the full length mirror, she smoothed a wrinkle out of her best dress. She wished she could smooth away the wrinkles in her face that had appeared over the last months. Her and Kuh had met at a bonfire a year prior. It was absolutely love at first site, causing quite the stir in the community. Her friends insisted that all he wanted her for was her milk producing mammaries and her marinated flank steak. The love they had, had proven them all wrong though, and tonight in a private ceremony, he would make her an honorable cow. Maybe now he would come home on time for dinner. Surely now he would become the gentleman she envisioned him to be. The nerves had began to set in, so she poured herself a shot of fireball; its taste calmed and warmed her, so she took another, and another.
It was now time for the final steps. Blaze sprinkled two tablespoons of brown sugar on each individual ramekin. Next, she lit the torch to and began caramelizing each serving. Feeling exuberant about her handy work, Blaze twirled, imagining herself to be a graceful ballerina. Unfortunately for those three hundred who perished in the flames, she neglected to turn off the creme brulee torch she had gripped in her hoof. Be a safe cook, don’t drink and caramelize.