Dinner preparations were going along just fine, a stir of the vegetables on the stove top burner, and then a peek inside the oven to check on the pork roast... oooh, this can't be good. Sue calls me in from the living room to evaluate the situation. I agree, this can't be good.
The bottom element in the oven is flaring a large 5-inch hissing flame and the metallic element is melting as we watch it slowly falls into two pieces. This is more than a little fat splashed on the burner. This is a catastrophic failure of a 25 year old appliance. The top element remains in good condition, so a switch to 'broil' and dinner is served in a few more minutes. The next evening it is a time to go to Pei Wei and grab a fortune cookie. Sue's fortune reads, "You are about to eat a stale dessert", I crumble and open my cookie to read my fortune, "Once burned, twice shy". Upon returning home, I grab my set of ratchet wrenches and unfasten the metal plate that holds the burned out element at the back of the oven, I disassemble the connecting wires and lay out the charred remains on the stove top.
The next morning Sue heads to downtown Garland to visit Staten's Appliances, a wonderful throwback establishment that has stacks of burners and heating elements and all manner of salvaged cooking and refrigerating appliances crowding the dim pathways under a low-slung roof where all things are orderly heaped according to their kind. Sue tells Mr. Staten, "I need one of these things" as she holds up the non-functioning part, "only I would like it to be in one piece". With a wink and a nod, the party of two wanders into the dim aisle of salvaged oven parts and he pulls out a match. This will be $25. A done deal.
The few machine screws that I removed were stored safely in a plastic contained, Sue arrives home and reassembles the heating element, cleans the oven and the two racks and lines the space with bright new aluminium foil.
When I come in at the end of the day, I notice the destroyed element is gone; I peek into the oven and see a warm red glow on the lower element and a tray of chocolate chip cookies sitting on a newly cleaned oven rack. Sue smiles and says "Those are 'test cookies'".
Ah, what a woman, repairs the oven, mixes a batch of cookies from scratch and and has it all working. Love at 375 degrees. The cookies passed the test too.
The bottom element in the oven is flaring a large 5-inch hissing flame and the metallic element is melting as we watch it slowly falls into two pieces. This is more than a little fat splashed on the burner. This is a catastrophic failure of a 25 year old appliance. The top element remains in good condition, so a switch to 'broil' and dinner is served in a few more minutes. The next evening it is a time to go to Pei Wei and grab a fortune cookie. Sue's fortune reads, "You are about to eat a stale dessert", I crumble and open my cookie to read my fortune, "Once burned, twice shy". Upon returning home, I grab my set of ratchet wrenches and unfasten the metal plate that holds the burned out element at the back of the oven, I disassemble the connecting wires and lay out the charred remains on the stove top.
The next morning Sue heads to downtown Garland to visit Staten's Appliances, a wonderful throwback establishment that has stacks of burners and heating elements and all manner of salvaged cooking and refrigerating appliances crowding the dim pathways under a low-slung roof where all things are orderly heaped according to their kind. Sue tells Mr. Staten, "I need one of these things" as she holds up the non-functioning part, "only I would like it to be in one piece". With a wink and a nod, the party of two wanders into the dim aisle of salvaged oven parts and he pulls out a match. This will be $25. A done deal.
The few machine screws that I removed were stored safely in a plastic contained, Sue arrives home and reassembles the heating element, cleans the oven and the two racks and lines the space with bright new aluminium foil.
When I come in at the end of the day, I notice the destroyed element is gone; I peek into the oven and see a warm red glow on the lower element and a tray of chocolate chip cookies sitting on a newly cleaned oven rack. Sue smiles and says "Those are 'test cookies'".
Ah, what a woman, repairs the oven, mixes a batch of cookies from scratch and and has it all working. Love at 375 degrees. The cookies passed the test too.
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