Baking Temperatures Forecast to Last at Least Until Sunday

It was the kind of day when some head for the beach, some hide in the shower and some stand before an open flame.

As the sun continued to beat down on Orange County, not everyone could spend Wednesday in an air-conditioned car, mall or office.

Corrado Gianotti, for example, head chef at Newport Beach’s tony Tutto Mare, had to make the pasta.

“Terrible, terrible,” he said, taking a hard-earned break from his blazing ovens and wood-burning stoves. His mouth full of cold watermelon, a chilled glass of Italian spring water in hand, the chef confided: “You just spend a lot of time in the refrigerator, and fixing the freezer.”

Apparently, Gianotti will be fixing that freezer for the next few days, if a certain stubborn ridge of high pressure has its way. Along with much of Southern California and several Southwestern states, Orange County can expect the heat wave--with temperatures in the 90s from Santa Ana to Anaheim--to last through the week.

Relief will come Sunday at the soonest, forecasters say.

“There’s basically a warm air mass on top of us, and it hasn’t been moving,” said Rob Kaczmarek, a meteorologist with Weatherdata Inc., which tracks weather for The Times.

“There are some signs this thing will break down as we get into the weekend,” he said.

At Southern California Edison, where more hot weather means more megawatts demanded by fans and air conditioners, usage was way up Wednesday.

“It was a heavy day,” said Steven Conroy, a company spokesman, who said the company came within striking distance of its all-time-high demand. “But nothing we couldn’t handle.”

No matter how hot it feels, Kaczmarek said, temperatures didn’t break long-standing records. Santa Ana, for instance, recorded 97 degrees on Aug. 14, 1983, a mark that seemed safe Wednesday, when the thermometer reached only 92.

Only? Don’t say “only” to those thousands of wilting residents downing iced teas and mopping ever-damp foreheads.

“Very hot,” sighed Abiel Valdez, a sweat-soaked counterman at Balboa Island’s Z Pizza, where just the air around the cash register could burn the roof of your mouth.

Throwing another pepperoni pie into the oven, Valdez marveled at the public’s appetite. When closing time came, a hot shower would feel like Shangri-La, he admitted. Then, perhaps, he would eat something light and cool.

But please, he begged: “No more pizza!”

Back at Tutto Mare, it was time to open another bottle of Italian water and talk about life.

“We do this for a living,” said Gianotti. “It’s our life. We’re no surgeons. We’re no writers. We cook for a living.”