No, I didn’t fire up the microwave.
I fired it. Gave it walking papers. See ya.
(I hear Count Dracula organ music here, with a frizzy-haired woman shrieking in the background. I’ll have to run that by my producers. snort.)
It’s still around – just in the basement, relegated to a spot on the cold floor in the pantry. Why, you ask?
- There’s no space in the kitchen, so it had to take up space in the dining room. And it was an eyesore.
- It heats food uneavenly – some mouthfuls are burning hot, others are barely warm.
- I found myself relying heavily on it, throwing things in there last minute, instead of thinking ahead and preparing somewhat meaningful, fresh meals.
- It’s a giant pain in the batooka to clean.
I’m still using up leftovers as best as I can. But they get reheated in a cast iron skillet. And I know… There’s probably no real health risk from heating up food in a microwave. But it still makes me wonder.
(Leftover pasta, reheated in a cast iron skillet with leftover beef stew broth – you know, the stuff that gets left in the bottom of the pot when everyone’s done scooping out their portions.)
(It took all of 3 minutes to stand there and stir them together while the grilled cheese cooked. This was such a yummy lunch, I may make beef stew just for that purpose some time.)
Food seems to be tastier when it’s reheated on the stovetop, too – or in the toaster oven, or the big oven. Something about it. Time? Maybe. Thought? Perhaps.
Maybe it’s just very satisfying to do something that intentionally slows down the pace of life. Something my ancestors did – heated up lunch without making anything go beep.
I don’t see anything wrong with microwave use. From time to time, I still use ours. But I thought I’d put this out there: Does anyone else scratch their head upon hearing that the most needed appliance these days in a North American home is a microwave?