Stove shopping is not for the faint of heart

The rain chased Jason in for a second blog entry of the week. Warning: it's long!

Ok, so this shouldn't be so hard, right?  Here in the land of the sacred consumer, purchasing a stove should not be a complicated experience.  Don't get me wrong...it's easy enough to say "I want that one, please, as soon as you can get it to me!" and hand them your credit card.  It's getting to that point that has proven challenging.

Perhaps if I start at the beginning this will be less confusing.  When we first built the kitchen in our home, we decided that we'd prefer electricity-fueled cooking, since we were both nervous about gas in the house, had only ever used electric before, and the installation was something I could do on my own, saving us some cash.  But of course I couldn't make the stove itself, so as is our bent we did some diligent research before making that major purchase.  Not knowing what else to do, we borrowed Janelle's parents' access to Consumer Reports reviews and went from there.  They surprised me by recommending that the best value for the money was a relatively inexpensive coil-top model, and recommended a few other features such as enclosed baking element and self-cleaning oven, but nothing fancy.  Janelle's parents had also generously offered to buy the stove for us, and we were happy to report the news when we found a Kenmore at the Sears in town that seemed to fit the bill for $500.

We then proceeded to use it pretty durn-spankin' hard for the following 5 years or so.  As I recall, at that time one or two of the burners we used the most seemed to be flagging.  We purchased replacement elements, I think.  But something still didn't seem right, and soon those burners began making little buzzing or pinging or snapping noises occasionally, then consistently.  Then one day Janelle was using the "Simmer Select" feature and without warning (other than what I just mentioned) the stove made a very loud "BANG!" and promptly shut off.  It didn't take long to figure out that the breaker had tripped, and an inspection of the burner coil revealed evidence of an intense electrical event:  welded metal of a few kinds, charred plastic surrounds, etc.  We didn't use that burner anymore, but were unsure what else to do.  I think the warranty had just run out.  Time flies, of course, so to us the stove still seemed new, and it was hard to believe it could be fizzling out already.

I suppose we could have called a repairperson, but then we might never understand the problem...just pay to have it fixed (not necessarily solved...key distinction).  Also, we happened to have just blundered into an even better option, as a bright young electrical engineer had just joined our family in the form of my sister's brand new husband!  Together we discussed things and decided that probably the long run of wire between the electric panel and the stove ought not to be causing this kind of malfunction; that there was not a basic functional problem with the setup but that rather we had probably just worn out the burners or the plug-in blocks or both, and the resulting arcing had allowed for a short over time.  I called and priced out the replacement parts needed, including replacing all the plug blocks, and the rusted-out splash pans and the big pan below that, which amounted to around $200.  Cheaper than replacing the stove, so we bought in.

It is now a little over a year later, and we have "burned" our way through three of the four burners again.  The buzzing and arcing is present in all but one little back burner, which itself doesn't work on the 'high' setting.  We are, for all practical purposes, down to cooking on a hot plate in our main kitchen.  Fortunately, there is the tired little stove in the old kitchen that is bridging us through, but it has its own set of problems.

Both of us entirely lacked motivation for fixing this Kenmore again.  Maybe we're just abusive cooks (certainly I know we cook way more food than the average family) but clearly there is a mismatch here.  We need something more durable.

So one day after checking with a multi-meter for voltage drop problems at the plug and coming up empty, I went looking.  I started my search at Ferguson enterprises in Harrisonburg, where I poured out my tale of woe.  The salesperson was, I think, not used to my kind of customer (they seemed to mostly have pretty swanky stuff in their showroom, and I was pretty scruffy and dressed like a scarecrow), but she was cordial and sympathetic, and began the refrain I was to hear all afternoon:  You guys need gas.  I thought she was going to say that.  Shoot.  Should have done that in the first place, probably.  But just in case I had her price out a few likely-looking models in coil-top electric (I was pretty convinced this was a bad idea), glass top electric, and gas stoves.  Also, I had heard that gas is more efficient for stove top and electric is better for ovens and that there are some units that are made to use both that way, which turned out to be true, so she priced out a few different "dual-fuel" ranges, of which there was none under $2000.  The one I was most tempted by was the Frigidaire 40 inch "Professional" dual-fuel for $2500.  If we removed the small cabinet to the left of our stove, we'd have a 40 inch space available, centered better under our range hood, and then we'd have five burners, including one little simmering burner, the burner controls are front and center on the range surface itself and there are actually two ovens:  a smallish but relatively normal electric convection oven on the right and teeny little bread oven on the left with separate controls.  This seemed to offer the features we would most enjoy, in a size that happened to fit our unusual space at a price that blew me out of the water!  In a bad way.

Home Depot: same story, less swanky.  One tidbit:  the lady there told me that really you shouldn't use the 'high' setting on an electric stove top.  I'll accept this as fact, and declare it the most idiotic design flaw I can think to plan into a consumer product.  Unless, of course, your goal is not so much to create a durable product as to sell another one to the same person as soon as possible...

At Lowes the guy was very helpful.  Another tidbit:  he stated categorically that you shouldn't use a full canner on a glass top electric stove.  The weight combined with the heat might very well crack the glass.  If it doesn't at first, he said, it eventually probably will.  Good to know, and also highly annoying.  He also recommended gas, and directed me to a nice Whirlpool that was made for a 30 inch opening (standard...like we already have), had cast iron pot supports that touched in the middle to make a solid plane over the whole surface (for sliding pots around), had good variability of burner output, would look good in our space, and cost $800.  I had, to paraphrase Allison Krauss, a new favorite.  He could also order in the Frigidaire if we wanted that, but neither he nor the Ferguson lady nor I am any big fans of Frigidaire (though their reputation is ironically not as bad for stoves as for fridges).

Upon returning home my wallet was still just as full, but I felt spent.  In the intervening weeks we've researched and discussed and considered sporadically, we've talked with folks we know who cook with gas to hear their experiences, and I've made calls and visits to local propane outfits and learned that we can expect to spend at least $500 to get started with propane for a stove, but that eventually it would probably pay off, especially if we go with two 100 lb. tanks and are willing to drag them in to town ourselves to get them filled.  The propane is apparently even way cheaper if you get a large tank placed and they come and fill it in bulk, but for them to run out with a delivery truck with little replacement tanks is pricier.

All told, we had the hunch that we were moving in a gas kind of direction.  Easier on the carbon footprint, more durable...seemed like the better fit.  And with our experiences with the Kenmore, we were not convinced that electric cooking was any safer.  Not that we feel totally at ease with either choice, but of the options readily available, it seemed the likeliest.  With that in mind, Janelle and I decided to spend one of our precious "date nights" (when my sister and the aforementioned husband take the kids for the evening) on a trip to Lowe's to make a final decision and get this off our "to do" list.

We spent about two hours there, talking to the same guy who had helped me a few weeks back.  Janelle agreed with my assessment of the snappy Whirlpool gas stove, but was tripped up a bit by those front-mounted burner knobs...little eyes can see them, little fingers can reach them.  It had an electronic control lock, but that's as much an indication of a problem as it is a solution.  We quickly ruled out pretty much everything else on the sales floor, so the guy jumped online to help us look more in-depth at the 40 inch Frigidaire and any other dual-fuel options he might come up with.  A few things were comforting about this episode of the search: 1)  Janelle, like me, was also strongly attracted to the Frigidaire, in theory, if one ignored the price  2)  The Lowe's guy who does this for a living was unable to come up with any option I hadn't already found online  3)  Janelle and I never feel more like two of a kind than in that sort of setting  4) Confirmed that our place is not within consumer culture.

We were pretty close to trying to make a final decision between two dual-fuel stoves:  one 30 inch Bosch and the 40 inch Frigidaire.  But we couldn't quite get ourselves over that last hump.  Something about not being able to open the door with my actual hand and look inside, maybe?  No organized or reliable reviews of the products at our fingertips?  Hating to spend over $2000 on a kitchen stove?  Too little actual knowledge of the options and what they would mean for us?  We were hung up.  Suddenly Janelle had an inspiration.  It is the same inspiration she usually has in these situations, and it usually works which is why she keeps having it:  She should call and talk it over with her parents!  I kept the sales guy busy with some more peculiar, specific, and nerdy questions about stove/oven performance and features while she snuck off and placed the call.

Her parents graciously paused their movie and listened to the story, asking wise and helpful questions now and again.  This is just what my extrovert-processor wife needed to gain access to her second inspiration, and once it had hit her, she says, she just pretty much knew that this is what we would probably do, and she was able to let them get back to their movie.  When she presented it to me, I also knew almost right away that this was right, whether I liked it or not.  We approached the sales guy with our decision, which was to buy the cheapest, most basic coil-top electric stove in the entire store.

Didn't see that coming, did you?

So why did we do this?  Besides the fact that our kitchen is already set up for this unit (so this will be a plug-and-play event) and we already know how to cook this way, we have a decent excuse for this "punt":  We've been wanting to replace the cheapo in the old kitchen sometime anyway.  So this buys us some time, and when we've made a decision about what we want to do in the long run, we'll relegate this new stove to secondary cooking projects in the back room.

It is far from a satisfactory choice, and once again we have, through this process, been reminded of the frustrating reality that none of the available choices in this consumer society seems well-suited to our particular needs.  Despite our modest income, we'd be willing to drop the heavier chunk of change for an option we could have confidence in.  I want to scream and holler sometimes to the manufacturers of these items, "IT'S NOT ABOUT THE FEATURES!"  It's about knowing that the product will work efficiently, effectively, and reliably FOR US, for a long, long time.  Once we have met that basic standard, we can have a conversation about features, and about price.  "Honestly," the guy at Lowe's said, "none of the electric stoves in here can be expected to last more than about 6 or 8 years without a repair that's going to cost at least half of the purchase price."

That makes my eyes bug out.  Are you kidding me?  I've seen electric stoves from the 60s that are still going strong!  Have we learned nothing in five decades?  And that's when I remember:  Yes, the marketers and manufacturers have learned plenty about just where the balance point is between making something well enough that people will not be too disappointed in it too early and poorly enough that they'll need to buy another one soon.  And they've learned that for most people, features are what sell the product.  And if replacement parts are expensive, all the better so that fixing it doesn't seem quite worthwhile and they'll show up on the sales floor again 'just to check out the options before sinking more money into the old one.'

Well, pardon the pun but I don't buy it.  I am a disaffected, disgruntled consumer.  Not of a particular brand, but of the whole damned business, and I do not use that word flippantly.  I do believe it is a damned way to make a living in that it is against sound ethics and it is destined for destruction in the end.  It is foolishness.  And I want out.

So that's the direction we want to head, really.  Out.  We want to cook our vittles with integrity, just like we want to grow them.  None of the prevailing options really suits us at all.  Even if we do buy and install a gas stove, we'll do so taking the long view that it is one step on the ladder out of this pit of dependency and complicity, and any next choice we make will be evaluated not just on whether we like it better or it makes nicer food, or it's marginally safer or more efficient or whatever, but on whether it gets us closer to establishing a more resilient and sustainable home economic system.

Sounds wonderful, doesn't it?  But what does that mean, really, for the way we cook our food?  Will we move, as some have, to cooking outdoors much of the year over "rocket" stoves made of metal pipe and fueled by little chunks of wood?  Will we install an indoor wood cookstove?  Masonry heater with incorporated rocket burners?  Outdoor pizza oven?  Solar oven?  Raw, dried, or fermented only?  State-of the art induction range?  Pedal-powered microwave?  Tinfoil dinners in the woodstove coals?  Restaurant-grade propane unit from an auction?  Biogas burner?  Biochar secondary burn?  Three rocks and a few dried cow patties?  We'll consider anything.  Ideas, links, and responses are welcome!

So, no, it shouldn't be this hard.  For most people, it isn't.  Nothing would be easier than accepting the status quo and blithely spending on ephemera with features.  But we seem to be ruined for that system, and more alienated from it all the time.  It's dawning on us that we are so marginal to our society that nobody's even bothering to market to us anymore.  So for us it's hard to buy things, and sometimes that's exhausting.  But for the sake of our children's children...bring it on.