Burning Question

By Elaine Viets of the Femmes Fatales

My stove and microwave made a suicide pact and died at the same time. The microwave went out with a bang. Really, it sounded like someone fired a weapon. The stove gave up quietly.
These appliances didn't die of overwork – not in my house. But they were old, and now I had to replace them. That hurt. A lot. It cost . . . nevermind what it cost. It was too painful. But I could have had a lot of fun with that money.
I posted my pain on Facebook: "I just bought a stove and microwave, and now I keep wondering how many restaurant dinners that equals."
Sure enough, I got an answer.
Mystery writer Deb Marshall wrote, "That's 7,328 dinners, including delivery on 20% of them and providing you’re a good tipper. This, of course, depends upon the installation fees for the appliances, but I did averages for everything. All things considered, you and Don should be able to eat all three meals out every day for about the next 6.5 years. Send the appliances back."
"Arghhh! I've wasted my money!"That's all I could think.
I'm not a cook. I have friends who find a session in the kitchen to be wonderfully creative, and offer dinners that are proof. I've heard of stove worshippers who want to buy ovens that cost more than $11,000. I'm not kidding. Williams-Sonoma sells something called a La Cornue stove for $9,950, plus $1,300 delivery and installation. I'm sure meals cooked on that stove would make the angels weep. Personally, I'd rather take that money and eat my way through the south of France.

                                                                
I appreciate good food. But I can't cook it. I've burned water. I left a pot of water boiling on the stove, and the next thing I knew, all that was left was a white calcium crust. I also burned boil-in-the-bag lima beans, and let me tell you, that is one nasty stink.
I start cooking with good intentions, but then I get distracted. I'll see something interesting on the Internet. I only look at it for a minute and suddenly the house is filled with smoke.
When I announced I'd bought a stove and microwave (and unlike the folks with that fancy Le Cornue, I got free delivery and installation, except for a $25 power cord for the microwave), my friend Kay Gordy asked, "And just what do you intend to do with these items?"
Well, I could heat up lukewarm coffee and my breakfast oatmeal in the microwave, boil tea water on the stove, and broil chicken burgers in the oven. But that hardly seemed worth the 7,328 dinners that Deb Marshall said I'd be missing. Good dinners. Cooked by professionals, and brought to my table by smiling servers, instead of the burnt offerings I so often produce.
Maybe I could repurpose my purchase. "The oven has this big space in the center with shelves where I can keep books, Kay," I said. But I could get some nice shelves at Office Depot that were a heck of a lot cheaper, and still enjoy maybe 4,681 dinners out.
Tammy Barker said, "You know, 7,328 dinners equates to a very expensive microwave. You would be better off investing in a restaurant. Or hiring a personal chef."
Stacie Neu Varland only made my mistake seem worse when she said, "Yes, dining out adds up pretty fast. It is also nice to go out and not have to cook, too."
Not to mention have someone else clean up, wash the dishes and put them away.
But Nora Hunter nailed it. "This stove looks like it's smiling at you! Get rid of it . . . now . . . while you still have time."
"You're right, Nora," I said. "It's like something from a Stephen King movie."
And I know why it's smiling, too.
That demon stove ate my money in one gulp.

Comments

[Hank Phillippi Ryan]

Hilarious ! And is making me question how much I use my stove… And so funny how our needs change.
But this certainly does not mean we can’t go out to dinner, right?

[Elaine Viets]

Thanks, Hank. I can still go out to dinner, if that hog of a stove left me anything.

[Karen Maslowski]

You always crack me up, Elaine!

This issue falls under the heading of Expectations by Others: Others expect you to have a fully kitted out kitchen. Others expect you to enjoy cooking because you're a woman. Others--like future buyers of your condo--expect you to provide a stove for them.

[Elaine Viets]

All true, O Wise Woman. Wish I'd been smart enough to figure that out.

[Mark]

I kind of felt the same way when I had to replace my frog this summer. Especially now that I don't have a roommate, I don't need that much space, but I need something to keep my food cold.

[Elaine Viets]

I hope you meant to type fridge, Mark. And that's another expensive purchase.

[Storyteller Mary]

That sounds like a very expensive stove, or very cheap restaurants. I hope there's a bit of hyperbole involved.
I didn't cook much when I was still teaching -- lunch and schools, takeout Chinese while running errands, and a couple of favorite restaurants "where everybody knew my name." Retirement and buying the house while waiting for the condo to sell moved me toward cooking more at home, and the CSA share even pushed me into owning a freezer for the surplus . . . oh, so domestic. Condo sold, I can eat out again, but I still cook most meals -- with a timer to pull me back on task. <3

[Elaine Viets]

Sounds like you got your freedom back, Mary! Enjoy those dinners. I never touch hyperbole -- it's too fattening.

[Mark]

What, you don't keep your cold and frozen food in a frog?

Yes, I meant fridge. My phone auto corrected for me.

[Elaine Viets]

I tried it once, but overfilled my frog, Mark. It kept complaining, "Knee-deep, knee-deep."

[Mark]

Lol!!

[Donna]

I don't know. Looks harmless to me. And even if you don't cook, not all leftovers nuke well. Keep an eye on it . . . but keep it.

[Linda]

I feel your pain. I also had to buy a new stove this year and since I hate to cook bought the cheapest one I liked the looks of. Luckily for me my husband likes to cook and does a good job of it. Unfortunately I am now retired so he expects me to cook. Meanwhile the stove sits there just waiting for activity. Based on the cost of my stove we would only get about 10 dinners out on the cost of the stove. So I guess it was worth it .

[Elaine Viets]

Its very white blankness seems sinister and untrustworthy, Donna, but it's too big to move.

[Elaine Viets]

Can't you burn a few meals, Linda, until your husband understands the only way he'll get good food is if he cooks it himself?