Micro Wave Goodbye

If the devil ever needed a source of heat to cook its food, it would probably use a microwave. I may pour scorn on them but, hypocritically, I’ve always owned one. It’s just taken me a while to realise I don’t like them. They’re like the bidet in the bathroom. I know what I’m supposed to do with it but the thought of using it leaves me cold and reticent.

I bought my last one about six years ago (microwave that is – nobody’s ever had my pants down for a bidet) and soon after buying it I swore that it would be my last. I’ve been hoping and praying for some time now for the big bang. That moment when it spontaneously combusts and I can dump it in the dustbin of daft decisions. And get half of my kitchen back in the process.

That moment came last week when I was heating up my porridge. I keyed in the timings and turned my back in anticipation of the two minute ding. It didn’t come. Instead, all I heard was the snap, crackle and pop of the inner casing of the time machine. It was time to wave it a little goodbye, a micro-wave.

I mean let’s be honest, heating up a bowl of porridge is the only thing a microwave does well. What else can it actually be used for?

Cooking food? Great idea. Let’s nuke our fresh, quality ingredients so that they’re bereft of any nutritional value whatsoever. But I suppose if you’re using a microwave in the first place you’re probably cooking  a “ready meal”. You know, the ones whose ingredients read like an e-lottery ticket.

Reheating food I hear you say. What about last night’s leftover ruby? Well I say use the oven, and while it’s heating up, why don’t you take the time to jazz it up a bit? Add some onion, a few tomatoes and a bit more spice. Half an hour later I reckon you’ll enjoy it even more than you did the night before.

Defrosting food? Don’t even go there. Do you really think that a microwave has the scientific ability to magically change the molecular structure of foodstuff from frozen to thawed? Well I’m no Brian Cox but I do know that all you are doing is cooking the food at a lower temperature. And you’re a better man than me if you can defrost a chicken breast or a packet of mince without it turning the colour of John Major’s Spitting Image dummy.

If you want to defrost food, get organised and think ahead. Take it out the night before and if you forget, then eat something else. There’s always tomorrow.

So, like the Russians did in 1976, I’ve banned the microwave from my household. For good. Where it used to sit, I’ve filled the void with my slow cooker. It makes a magical bowl of kasha.(You know your oats if you don’t have to google that one.)

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