Even though the stove has not been properly inspected by the gas company (like they know what they're doing anyway), I am using it. Nine weeks without a decent home-cooked meal in my own gas-damaged house is more than enough for me. I haven't smelled any gas leaking from the stove in the two weeks that it has been installed and uselessly taking up space in my kitchen, so, at the risk of blowing a giant crater in the ground, I cook.
I start small (boiling water for tea) and work my way up to things like soup and grilled cheese, only using the burners at first. My first foray into using the oven itself involves five straight hours of baking (pies and bread) because if I'm going to blow up, I'm all in.
Finally, though, I think everything is okay. It seems okay. It looks fine, sounds fine, feels fine, and smells fine; now it has to taste fine. I jump into the deep end without any safety vest: I make lasagna. This involves multiple burners (boiling the noodles, browning the ground beef, and heating up the sauce) and the oven itself to cook the assembled meal-in-a-pan.
Thirty-five minutes after I put the lasagna into the oven, dinner is ready and piping hot and fabulously delicious. Best of all, I don't blow up myself, my family, my house, nor my neighborhood. Success!
