The New Bread Machine

Dear Hank;

Nov, 15, 2011

Sorry it’s been a while but I’ve been busy doing things I don’t really care about, which is a whole different story. So let’s start with the new bread machine.

The old bread machine worked just fine. Okay, you had to know how to tweak it here and there and half the time the loaf didn’t puff up. Bad yeast I think. I was in the middle of a two year experiment to figure this out when my wife and daughter ganged up on me and gave me a new machine. I should be thankful I suppose, but they started to explain all the features and benefits. It made a smaller square loaf so you wouldn’t have so much bread, half of which usually went moldy. The machine was top of the line. Yeah, okay, but a square loaf? That’s not a loaf that’s a deformed hockey puck. But okay, I’ll try the damn thing. One good thing is they put the basic bread recipe right on the side of the machine. With a mind like mine that’s a big advantage.

Why is it I always put the flour in first only to remember right after I do it that they want the water in the bottom? You’d think I’d learn, not me; I’m a traditionalist. So I dump the flour into a bowl, thus showing that even on simple tasks guys get a lot more stuff dirty in the kitchen than a woman would. So what? They don’t normally drink when they cook; I do. Except, if I’m making bread it’s usually in the morning so it seems a little; I don’t know, “gauche”? to do so that early.

So when you start the machine up the first thing the little display says is Resting. I’m sorry, what? You haven’t done anything yet and you’re resting? What kind of sh*t is that? My brother had a friend Jerry. Jerry was in his seventies when my brother was still a teen. Jerry had a big old Cadillac, 60’s style, big fins, chrome, outrageous lights - the whole bit. Jerry raced midget cars. My brother would go over and help Jerry get the cars ready. Jerry asked a local shop to soup up his car.

He brought it back the day after he got it from them and said, “Listen, when I’m going 120 and I step on the gas I want something to happen.” That’s the way I feel about the bread machine, when I hit start I want something to happen. I want to hear the whapper whapping or a motor going “gee-gee-gee” or something. I don’t want silence and then have to look on the little screen to see the words “Resting.” What the heck have you been doing all the time you were sitting there, seeping?

Okay, then there’s this other little feature that drove me crazy the first time I used it. Part way through whatever it was doing it stopped and made a noise. I looked at the display and it said some obscure thing that indicated you were supposed to put more stuff in the machine. More stuff? Like what? I already gave it yeast. What do you want? I was in a panic. Had I missed something? Was there something else I needed to do? Fortunately, the instructions were still around. I frantically searched. There was a picture with an arrow to the display panel marked “Display Panel” great. Nothing.

On the third or fourth time, after thoroughly reading the instructions, I found a one sentence explanation, “When the bread machine displays ‘put stuff in’ and the recipe calls for added things like nuts or raisins this is the time to add them.” Now, couldn’t they put that in the index? Or the general display messages table? Or somewhere that you could easily find it?

No, the answer is no. Because this machine wants to make you feel stupid. I refuse to be cowed by this little metal box.

There’s one last thing. After all is said and done and you have a lovely squarish loaf the machine displays some stupid message. What do I want to do? I want to turn it off. I want to flip a switch and turn off the machine. Is that too much to ask? Answer – yes. The only way to turn off the damn thing is to unplug it from the wall. Good thinking guys.

But I’m not complaining. I’m just telling you the way it is. And then there the blue flash, which is what I really wanted to tell you about, but I gotta go.

Take care, say hi to the wife and kids,

Bryce