Technology and I don’t mix

– Random Writings: Column by Rebecca Lindquist –

A gently used stove recently came into my possession. The previous owners are remodeling their kitchen and upgrading their appliances.

My old range was a General Electric, with two burners that convert to a griddle, on the stovetop. It was 40” wide, with a small work area on one side and included a side drawer, that was the perfect height for storing baking sheets in an upright position.

I absolutely loved my old stove, but it was just that…old. It took everything twice as long to bake than it should have and, if I had the audacity to move the elements to clean the drip pans, it took an act of Congress to correctly replace them to their functioning position.

It seemed like a good time to go with something a little more energy efficient. I guess I wasn’t wholly prepared for what that entailed.

To begin with, this new model is an all-digital glass-top double oven. The glass top makes me nervous. Nothing heavy should be set on it, so that negates using my 300-pound large cast iron skillet. (OK, so maybe it doesn’t weigh quite THAT much.)

Apart from that minor inconvenience, it has a double oven that eliminates the warming drawer below. Growing up, we never used that for that purpose. It was where the skillets, pans and casserole dishes were stored.

Said cookware is now residing in a tote, near the kitchen door. Other than a major tripping hazard when you walk in the door and forget it’s there, that method will have to suffice until I purchase a standing cupboard, giving them a permanent home.

This past weekend, I wanted to bake something and decided I had put off cleaning the oven beforehand, long enough. I found a homemade recipe for “Magic Cleaner,” online, suitable for cleaning ovens or showers. The recipe is: 2 oz. Dawn dish detergent, 4 oz. bottled lemon juice, 8 oz. white vinegar and 10 oz. water. Stir gently. The secret is to spray on surface, let sit overnight (or longer), then wipe with clean, wet cloths.

I followed the instructions to the letter. Magic, my foot. It didn’t get anything spotless, though it smelled nice and fresh after the application. I scrubbed and scrubbed for over two hours, trying to eradicate any baked on overspills. I decided to turn the oven cycle on to bake off any remaining residue from the cleaning solution.

Looking at the intimidating digital control panel, I noticed a button labeled “CLEAN.” Seriously? It’s a self-cleaning oven. I swear I learned to read in elementary school, not that anyone would believe it, since I just spent several grueling hours, cleaning a blasted oven that can clean itself!

A manual wasn’t with the appliance when I got it, but I thought I could figure out the self-cleaning mode myself; after all, how hard could it be? I looked online for a manual for that particular model, which was no help. Advertisements kept popping up, displaying the newest appliances available for purchase.

I decided to just wing it and pressed the clean mode. It beeped at me, so I set the time and it beeped at me again. I set the temperature. Beep. The next button I pushed ending up canceling what I had already entered, with a very smug beep. OK, now it’s just getting on my nerves. I don’t need an inferiority complex from a cheeky, computerized upstart.

In my usual calm fashion, I just started pressing all the buttons…beep, beep, beep. STOP BEEPING AT ME! I conceded defeat and gave up. Luckily, my daughter, Hannah, easily figured it out when she got home. She has a digital stove in her apartment and was familiar with its idiosyncracies.

The sequence for operating the oven is press bake, set the temperature, then press bake again. I’m supremely grateful she knew exactly what to do. I was at the point where I was ready to build a campfire inside the oven and just start cooking food that way. At least I could use my cast iron skillet again.

I have acquired the manual since that demeaning fiasco, not that I hold out any hope of this old-school brain being able to comprehend the instructions, but, fortunately, I have a daughter who’s tech savvy and isn’t rattled by a saucy, smart aleck appliance, with an attitude.