KitchenDread, Kettle Red, Appliance Dead, Cat Well Fed
“The Tea Kettle!” Nazy exclaimed.
“The..” I began.
“The Tea Kettle is broken!”
“I’m flabbergasted.” I replied. Flabbergasted.
“The Tea Kettle is broken again!” Nazy continued.
A bit of background:
When we moved to Santa Barbara, we knew that none of the appliances that we had used in Switzerland would work in California. Nazy likes hot tea in the morning (I’m more of a Coca Cola Zero guy). We considered using the massive stove and a diminutive kettle, but Nazy felt that was a bit slow and inefficient - especially after she found a bargain electric kettle.
“This kettle (see above),” Nazy enthused, “was 70% off.”
“Wow!” I replied attempting to contain my enthusiasm, “How many kilowatt minutes does it take to boil a large cup of water?”
“Are you..”
“And what is the elapsed time needed to cause the phase transition from liquid to steam?”
Naturally, I was surprised when Nazy confessed that she didn’t know the answers to my reasonable questions and, in fact, had not even thought of asking those questions.
Spousal interrupt: “Nazy confessed? “Reasonable questions?” Nazy queried oozing disagreement with my characterization of the conversation.
Nazy was, of course, right. None of that mattered. The small appliance boiled water quickly. It became a reliable part of our day. But, after almost three years on the job, the lid on the kettle began to stick in the closed position. Clicking on the ‘open’ lever had no impact, it had become necessary to pry the lid open. Although I used a nearby spoon, Nazy, more rustic, used her hand and…
“I broke a fingernail!” She exclaimed.
That was, of course, the end of the line for the cheap kettle. We browsed through Sur La Table on State Street considering higher end models because…
“We don’t want to replace a tea kettle every couple of years,” I explained.
Naturally, we settled on the most expensive model — a KitchenAid, Candy Apple Red, Proline. It even had an analogue thermometer to display the temperature of the water.
Aside: Since Nazy doesn’t like tepid tea, it later occurred to me that I didn’t need to know the temperature of the water during the boiling process. It was only necessary to know whether the water was (or was not) boiling. In addition, I failed to apply simple mathematics and economics knowledge to the decision-making process. In short, for the cost of one KitchenAid kettle, I could have bought 10 of the low-priced model — a thirty (30!) year supply.
Of course, we weren’t simply attracted by the promise of quality that we associated with the premium price. Nazy’s favorite color is red. In fact…
Flashback
Zurich, Switzerland
The mission seemed simple. Nazy wanted me to get some candles for our Christmas party. Red Candles. Expecting accolades, I arrived home with a wonderful collection of tapers. My kudos dissolved into brickbats almost instantly:
“Why did you pick candles that are the color of tomatoes? I wanted red candles.” Nazy claimed.
“Tomatoes, my dear, are red,” I explained patiently.
“That is the wrong red. I want Christmas red.”
“I bought these candles at a Christmas market. Does that count?”
The answer, colorfully delivered, was ‘No!’.
End Flashback
The KitchenAid kettle was the ‘right’ red. We brought it home and liked it so much that we bought a matching KitchenAid, Proline Toaster. At that point we began to notice symptoms of over-engineering.
The Tea Kettle used Artificial Intelligence to estimate how long the human wanted to maintain the temperature of previously boiled water. (In layman’s terms: it didn't stop heating the water after it was boiled and poured.) It could be programmed to bring water to room temperature or body temperature, or steam bath temperature. I found this interesting, but unnecessary. We just wanted to boil water for tea. The toaster ‘knew’ when I inserted a slice of bread and automatically lowered and toasted the insert. This meant that I couldn’t put the toast into the toaster in preparation for when I wanted to start toasting. The toaster, using lasers, algorithms, weight and balance computations, gyroscopes and fuzzy logic, determined what had been inserted (bagel, English Muffin, Sour dough, whole wheat) and whether it needed to be defrosted before being toasted.
While I was memorizing the toaster documentation (volume 3, page 215), the Tea Kettle …
“Is toast!” Nazy noted.
The Artificially intelligent device had decided that all water was always boiling.This meant, of course, that it wouldn’t heat or boil anything.
“But at least the lid doesn’t stick.” I replied to Nazy.
“It’s only two months old.” Nazy noted. Accurately.
It took about a month to get a replacement from KitchenAid. By last Friday, the replacement had been in service for exactly two months. Predictably, it lost the ability to boil water. Nazy, unlike the tea water, was hot under the collar. She called KitchenAid’s helpless line.
“I don’t want a replacement. I want my money back. A tea kettle that doesn’t heat water is pointless.”
A long (heated?) discussion ensued. But, before the situation could be resolved Nazy could hear..
“… an alarm through the phone, Dan. The guy I was talking to said that the building was on fire. I could hear people running away.”
“I hope that their sprinkler system wasn’t made by KitchenAid,” I replied.
The Martin Family Official Recommendation: Do not purchase KitchenAid Proline small appliances.
While KitchenDread was helplessly battling a fire, other important things were going on here at Bedlam Abode. Monster the cat, Melika and Tom’s Russian Siberian, on-loan while construction continues, made himself at home. And:
Tiger — the grand(est)son continued to amaze. In swimming lessons, he can almost get out of the pool by himself. He is very comfortable in the water and, last week, was flabbergasted when it actually rained on the way to his lesson. Water falling from the sky was a totally novel and new sensation for him.
For last week's letter, please click here
Dan and Tiger Swimming