As my good friend, Edwina, says, the plotline of an old ’50s-style movie wrote itself in our kitchen yesterday….”Son of the Blob”. Home from our relaxing jaunt to VA., we were breadless so it was time to drag out the sourdough and get baking. As I was dumping flour and assorted grains into the bowl, I discovered a container of bulk yeast in the back of the fridge. It didn’t smell yeasty so I figured it was a goner. Hadn’t used it in nearly a year since I’ve been using another brand that works better.
What do you do with old yeast? Dump it, right? Okay, so the nearest dumping ground was my kitchen drain and since those yeast granules are so tiny, I envisioned it sliding down the drain to wherever that stuff goes.
Wrong….I immediately learned that was a very bad idea as the drain began to back up and the drain in the adjacent sink began to slowly regurgitate water and whatever yucky stuff is down there. Suddenly, it occurred to me that yeast — when combined with water — begins to foam and if not enough water is added, it would naturally become a glutinous mass.
My first reaction? Scream loudly! In my mind, this would bring the Saint up from the basement to solve the problem. That didn’t happen, so I grabbed the toilet plunger (yes, I realize this is not sanitary, but at the moment, I didn’t care), and began plunging. Apparently, Fred’s curiosity got the better of him and he tore himself away from the basement and poked his head around the corner and asked, “May I help?” Using two flagstones and a plastic placemat, we stopped up the second drain and began plunging away on the first. That only brought up more crap. Thus began a two-hour plumbing project involving a quick trip to the store for two bottles of drain opener. Dumped the first bottle down the main drain and let that settle for 30 minutes. At the end of 30 minutes, we flushed the drains as instructed and attempted the plunger — as NOT instructed. Down went the yucky water…slowly. One more bottle of drain cleaner later and we were home free.
And yes, I did sterilize the sinks with an entire bottle of bleach. It’s beautifully white again.
That was lesson one for the day. The second lesson was much less of a problem, but equally silly. I began washing my doughy fingers into the bathroom sink and duh…it began to back up. Oh yeah, right, did I not learn anything from round one? That required only 1/2 bottle of drain opener.
I’m still trying to figure out the moral of this story. However, I am convinced that thanks to Edwina, we are on to a new venture of producing sequels to those great ’50s movies. Coincidentally, I smell something burning…uh oh. I forgot the black beans on the stove. I’m afraid to look.