My husband and I have owned this Black and Decker toaster oven for nearly a decade, if not longer. It served us pretty faithfully for a long time, though I’d wanted to replace it when our supper caught fire in it that one time in 2007 – my dear, being the born Yankee he is, cleaned it up and insisted it was a one time thing, and so the toaster oven stayed in our family, moving from New Hampshire to Tennessee to Maryland to Virginia.
This week, the toaster oven began to act like an appliance possessed. It started to groan. The toasting light went off, but there was no audible click or ding to signal its completion, and there was really no evidence that the toaster oven had actually stopped toasting.
This morning, it burned my gluten-free bagel, and I went out in search of a replacement.
I went online to look at reviews. And with every model I considered, in addition to the “works great”, “dependable” comments there was at least one “safety hazard”, “overheats” comment. I turned to that bastion of recommendation, Consumer Reports, and in their forums were the deject mumblings of others like myself, who had come to the conclusion that there really wasn’t a good option in the market right now.
I decided that for the moment, a simple toaster would do. We already have an oven.
Armed with this newfound determination, I went to our closest big box store, and hit the small-appliance aisle. Come to find out, nearly every toaster I looked at had some sort of part or trim that was made of plastic. Cheap-looking plastic.
And I drew the line. This is an appliance whose ONLY function is to get HOT. Plastic did not seem to me to be the best idea.
So this is how I ended up bringing home a $45 KitchenAid toaster. It’s not beautiful, it doesn’t shine, it’s not a pretty color, but it’s solidly constructed, and when I went to toast a bagel for my tuna salad, it worked well and gave a cheery “ding!” when it was ready.
Good enough.
Of course, I just managed to finish my lunch, and now it’s dinnertime.
