I mean, really cold.

The other night, I went out to dinner with friends and brought home my leftovers.  They were scheduled to be my dinner on Sunday night.

Now, there was some prime rib and some creamed corn, and a coupla pieces of garlic bread.

I thought I'd reheat a piece of garlic bread first and then snack on it while the rest was reheating.

I'd use the microwave, of course.

I moistened a paper towel and wrapped it around a piece of garlic bread.  The put the wrapped bread on a microwave-safe plate.

I hit the "reheat" button, and then paused with indecision.  The microwave wanted to know what type of food I was reheating, and it didn't have a "breads" option.  I went with "pasta."  Seemed close enough.

A little while later I thought, "Gee, that bread has been in there an awfully long time."

A second later, the microwave beeped.  I opened it.

Inside:  A charcoal briquette where the garlic bread used to be.  A burnt paper towel.  A plate with paper towel charred into it.  And, of course, smoke.

The smoke detectors in our building are hard-wired in; there's no way to unplug the detector when you have a cooking mishap.  Also, once the smoke detector smells smoke, it sets off the entire building and calls the Fire Department.  Setting aside the embarrassment involved in admitting to your neighbors that you set garlic bread on fire, there's the whole financial cost -- as the Fire Department has come out on so many false alarms, they said they'd charge us for the next one.

Imperative, then, that I do not set off the smoke alarm.  I turn on the kitchen fan.  I have another little fan-with-filter that I also brought in there. 

It wasn't doing the job.  OK, yeah, the smoke hadn't wafted down the hallway to the smoke alarm yet, but I could still smell "recently-burnt" in my kitchen, so was forced to open a window.  The nearest one was in the living room, where I was sitting.  I had a fire going in the fireplace (no smoke odors there -- gas fire, fake wood) and sat curled on the edge of the sofa, close to the fireplace, while Sunday Night Frigidity came in through the window and saved me from paying a nuisance fee to the Fire Department.

Before bed, I closed the window and left the little fan going.

Next morning, the room still smelled.