I have a microwave I bought in May 2000, so it’s just five years old now. Before that, I never owned one. There just wasn’t room in the kitchen for it, and my family was still clinging to the old religion of “pan or oven” cooking for everything. As the family whittled down with the passage of time, I downsized a few things in the kitchen myself, and finally caved and bought my first microwave, a Hamilton Beach. Middle of the road power at 1200 watts, white with simple buttons. Nothing fancy.
Once I began using my new microwave, I didn’t realize how helpful it could be. Over the past half decade I have used it nearly every day, starting with heating up oatmeal for breakfast and ending with either preparing steamed vegetables or a fresh entrée.
Funny thing is, I’ve never done popcorn in my microwave. Imagine that.
Anyway, the thing began to act up lately, and though the average lifespan of a microwave is supposed to be about ten years, I figured that maybe I had used it to the end of its lifespan. The carousel would make noises when rotating, food didn’t heat evenly, and moisture dripped every time I opened the door. Considering its cost and age, I decided the time had come, so I bought a replacement. It’s similar in wattage and price, and I was able to use credit card points to purchase it. Karma was affirming that I was making the right decision.
The boxes used to hold appliances are ridiculously oversized and padded with foam cages surrounding the item as if one were transporting a museum piece. Overall the thing weighed some 30-40 pounds, but I got the thing into a cart by myself, then into the car trunk and home. I had a workout to last a fortnight.
The box is still in the kitchen waiting to be opened, because the old Betsy apparently took one look at what I had done and began pleading for its life by performing better. It’s struggling, though, and in my heart I know it’s time to swap it out and start using the new one.
I already have all the things I need to keep the new appliance in good shape. My favorite item is Angry Mama, which is a kitschy measuring device for steaming out your oven’s interior with water and vinegar. The gizmo is a three-piece depiction of a house frau with hands on hips and a look of borderline rage on her plastic face. It’s simple to use; pour vinegar and stop at the horizontal fill line on her back, then add water to the second fill line. Replace her flippy wig which serves as the cap, and then let it spin inside for a few minutes, during which time she blows her stack like a Karen and sends hot steam onto the walls to loosen grime so it can be wiped away easily.
I don’t have actual grime in my microwave. The biggest mess I have is when fish explodes.
Yes, I microwave salmon about once a week, and it’s a moist fish which can experience mini-explosions while cooking. If I put a cover on the fish, the explosion shoots out the sides. No matter what I try, the fish wins every time, so I have Angry Mama at the ready when it does.
For a brief time I had an omelet cooker, but it didn’t produce the results I wanted. My only other special gadget for the microwave is the aforementioned plate cover which can’t contain salmon explosions and is apparently the wrong size for my normal sized plate, because it slips off. So much for convenience.
However, this is a small problem in life, and I intend to start the new month by bringing in the new and removing the old. So in the (slightly altered) words of Horace Slughorn of Harry Potter fame, it’s time to move on. Farewell, old Hamilton Beach 1200-watt microwave, king of the kitchen appliances. Your exterior will rust, but your memory lingers on, and your human will find solace in the loss she has sustained.
Maybe I’ll get a bag of popcorn to usher in the new appliance. Imagine that.
Susan's Scribblings the Blog 