A certain sexy, cycling, picture-taking Santa Claus visited Amy's house a couple weeks early this year to check her Christmas list. He made a stop at the local appliance dealer. And if all goes well with delivery and installation, we'll be baking holiday cookies in our new OVEN by early next week!!!
We ordered this model in all black, a GE Convection Range that features a cooking system that delivers even air and heat circulation for quicker, higher quality baking and roasting. It also has a self-cleaning oven with heavy duty oven racks that can stay in the oven during the cleaning cycle, a glass cooktop featuring a warming element and a dual 9-inch/12-inch element, and a hidden element in the oven bottom.
The oven we have, an RCA (yeah, the people who made the victrola...and you wonder why we might want to upgrade), is an original to our 1992-built home. It was cheap from the get-go, doesn't have a self-clean function, burns one side of baked foods and barely cooks the other, has two semi-functional burners, and heats the stove burners to scalding temps when the oven is on. This morning, the coil element started smoking beneath my pan, so I picked up the pan to find flames lapping at its underside. Yeah, that's safe.
I'm doubly indebted to Mr. Claus for overlooking the fact that just yesterday I was very, very naughty. I got myself pulled over for apparently running a red light in the biggest cop stop speed trap in the county, University Heights, Iowa. Merry Christmas to you, too, officer. My court date's Dec. 23, but I'm going to take my punishment and go ahead and pay the $96 fine ($50 which is "court costs," a wholly bureaucratic bunch of BS). And never, ever drive Melrose Avenue again.
Not to be deterred by our archaic piece of kitchen machinery, Henry and Tim are currently baking a family favorite holiday treat -- Peanut Butter Kiss Cookies. It's purely a scientific, technical endeavor, they claim, insisting that they must bake a few last times in the old oven to truly compare with and appreciate the new appliance.
Next week can't come soon enough for us OR our taste buds. (And I'd think the fire marshall would be counting the days, too. I saw flames people, and it's not a gas range.)