We haven’t had a working microwave in six months. Yes, we are okay, and no, we don’t need you to send any help.
I realize that there is an entire crop of parents out there who have never lived in a world where a microwave didn’t exist, and that realization makes me start pricing out power chairs and Geritol. However, being ancient enough to come from a time before magic boxes that cook things and/or manage your satanic pest problem, I resisted owning a microwave for many years. I also had absolute disdain for dishwashers.
I have trust issues. Basic household appliances are not exempt.
About two years into warming up Muck, Momma Muck! on the stove 15,027 times a day and sanitizing enough bottles and sippy cups to feed my sons’ milk habits, I caved on my resolve and starting using a dishwasher and a microwave. It’s been about a decade now and I was fairly sure I’d never return to a life without either, until six months ago when my microwave just stopped microwaving.
My built straight into the wall of my kitchen microwave. See: Things that are an excessive pain in the butt to fix for $200, Alex.
I know what the problem is, and I know it’s too small a job to call a repair man, but too big a job to do alone, and since household repairs fall under my jurisdiction, the microwave hasn’t been used for anything aside from a dry erase board since last summer.
Statistical aside: The effectiveness of using a built-in microwave as a dry erase chore chart is directly correlated to the amount of microwavable popcorn in one’s pantry. #science
It’s been an interesting experiment, living without a microwave. What’s struck me the most is how easy it was to adapt back to life without one. Sure, meals take a little more planning without a magic defrosting machine, and tea takes a little more time and effort without a magic water-warming box, but it’s not really been that bad.
Until I tried to make queso.
Queso is one of the four food groups in Texas. There is great debate on what makes a good queso, but the most Texan Texan I know came to my house when we first moved here and shared with my the time honored tradition for authentic Texas queso…Velveeta and Rotel. Not kidding. That’s it. Wanna get all classy with it? Use Velveeta Queso Blanco. *Ooooo.*
So I’m standing in front of my $250 built-in dry erase board with a box of Velveeta and a can of Rotel and some drool dripping out of the corner of my mouth because I am just not able to make the mental leap it would take to learn to cook queso any other way than in a microwave. I stand there for a really long time (a shamefully long time) before I realize that the human race was able to master FIRE a few years ago and I can COOK with it!
A ha! A genius, I am!
Yum. Just excessive amounts of yum.