Doom doesn't always fly solo in the kitchen. Doom has been known to entertain, especially with, as the kids say, the honeys.What? Doom can't be dapper? Doom can't woo? Cretin, Doom's got woo like you don't know.
So it was that Doom and his guest for the evening were in the expansive kitchen on the third floor. Not the kitchen on the fifth floor or on the roof or in the guest house; this is the kitchen with the airport luggage carousel where Doom stores his pots and pans. Doom was of course preparing a fine repast, the finest Doom's guest surely had ever seen. (Are you reading this, Susan Richards? Does your visage blush with envy? DOES IT?)
So it was that Doom, in his role as host, momentarily became distracted. Perhaps it was as Doom demonstrated a sabre dance. Perhaps Doom was in the midst of reciting the Iliad in the original Greek.
Let Doom put it this way:
It was then that Doom's pasta burned. The pan held too little water, despite Doom's precise calculation, and for this only one explanation is possible: Sabotage. The Accursed Richards desperately craves to live as Doom. His paltry achievements and companions are eclipsed by Doom's. (Susan, do you see? Your husband looks elsewhere, even into Doom's domicile. I sense his hidden monitors everywhere.)
Doom quickly prepared a fresh pot of pasta, but the crud remained in the original pan. This might be the ruin of cookware belonging to lesser men, but not Doom. Not ever Doom. Heed this salvaging process.
1) Remove what pasta debris you can with a wooden spoon.
2) Smother the remaining noodle pieces and burned crud with baking soda. Blanket it. Bury it.
3) Cover the soda and crud mix with cold water.
4) Boil the crud water. Remove the pot from heat and let sit for 30 minutes.
5) Pour out the water and scrape the pot with a scouring sponge. The crud should dislodge easily.
6) Repeat as needed.
7) Hail Doom.
