On Tuesday, I stared into my microwave and realized I have wasted my time and energy transforming a frozen lasagna into radioactive soup. The edges were crispy, and sure they looked deliciously golden brown as if some of it wasn’t frozen, but not nearly what I had hoped for. The cheese hardened to the side while the rest of the dish drowned in sauce and frozen chunks of cheese.
My microwave continues to baffles me with how it explodes food instead of heating them properly.
It is so advanced that it hates me. I remember the day I decided to purchase a microwave oven clearly.
It was a slam dunk decision based upon years of propaganda microwave ovens fed me telling me how this product would better my lifestyle by not having to “cook” for what felt like days on the stove. “Dinner in minutes!” some commercial shouted. Sure dinner was literally served in minutes, but there is something different about time when you are welcomed half-jacket unzipped, thermostat melting potatoes fresh from the oven.
Let’s not forget my microwave oven too, half roasted potatoes and decided to neglect them from existence and onto the oven. My dear Microwave Oven has been with me for three decades. Thirty years ago, I bought my very first microwave oven.
It was beige, looked like it could eat you whole, and hummed like a jet taking off. Like many of my appliances, it took up too much counter space. I respected the microwave oven as if it were NASA technology being handed to me by Aliens, microwaves included.
I read the instruction manual twice. My first experiment was to reheat coffee and destroy it. When I say destroy, I mean turn into a sundae of nuclear particles.
Coffee did not explode in the explodeolation you would need plastic surgery for. What coffee did do was explode in the more embarrassing way where it continued to explode everywhere. If you put in a microwave unsafe bowl ( rookie mistake), the floors, cabinets, and yes even the ceiling.
My microwave and kitchen did not escape this tragedy either. This was my introduction into microwave ovens and how they lie to us. Every time you press start you’re not going to be magically blessed with molecules, you are going to be left with a pathetic simmer dance party.
After realizing this I actually felt depressed into thinking I had to return to my miniature kitchen-abuser. I told myself it was strictly my problem with microwaving myself emotions which made me weak. I told myself teaching myself how to properly microwave things and work around their treacherous symbols followed by the conflict of what wattage to use with how many minutes along with ‘stirring and resting’ periods was me battling a demon.
30 years later and I’m still have trouble grasping these concepts. Last night, my sad dinner was another sad attempt at minute-dining. The box boasted outrageous lies about their product even cross advertising with “Gourmet Quality Food.
Best Meal You’ll Ever Have.” The picture portrays some fancy shmancy thing that, yes I know is probably meant for only the wealthiest of people but c’mom looks super fancy on a fancy plate at a fancy restaurant. “Remove box, poke hole in film, cook on high for 4 minutes, let stand for 1 minute, enjoy!” Um….okay. Much like every other DIY step by step diagram, everyone skipped explaining the enjoy part.
And explain they did because now I am sitting here with my ultra-chef certified meal wondering, why do I even have to pretend this junk food food was served to me after removing it from my demonic microwave. Dishonestly, there is no way to describe a painter’s portions of tomato sauce. Taste it, you will hate it.
I loved Rana canned tomato sauce. It used to be my staple, but ever since I opened that jar I look at it more of a “food” disgrace. It melts into my stomach.
Literally makes me cry. Burned so hard you can’t even call it food. The cheese had an identity crisis, became oil, and is now this weird rubbery thing called spinach that will probably outlive all of us.
Every meal you put in there is risk of it being discontinued. I cannot believe one of the simplest foods to make, POPCORN, can be afflicted by this plague I like to nickname microwaving. No joke every meal I put into the microwave turns into wasteland.
The moment the pops stop is literally a timer for when your kitchen will smell like burnt popcorn. If you let it luxate for too long once those pops have finished congratulations you now have a bag of charcoal. Popcorn in the microwave, one of my favorite ways to eat, is also my worst way to cook popcorn at the same time.
You can take the kernels out whenever you please, but there is no chance it will be satisfying. Little button on the microwave that has popped embroidered on it promising you the holy grail of popped popcorn. Doing absolutely nothing.
Not only has the popcorn button taught me it’s merely there for aesthetics, but there is no way that button is there to portray how many minutes your microwave should pop a popcorn. My neighbor Tom, always sees the good in these appliances. He believes all these bad juju still function properly.
With how many buttons there are on most electrical items that plug into the wall I think we both do. But he did suggest I try cooking something way easier. “Microwave your veggies” Tom said.
My guess is he has never witnessed broccoli cooking in the microwave. I decided one day to try soup. So like any person Would I just popped open a can of soup.
Tomato soup. I followed the instructions exactly. “Open can, place in microwave safe container, microwave for 2-3 minutes, stir after 1 minute.”
Needless to say he followed the directions to a tee.
But because he is such an obsessively detailed human being, I was sure it would turn out magnificent. Boy was I wrong. Once again, I had to let my soup steam.
When making soup in the microwave, you should never empty the soup into something that says `Safety Hazard’ on the bottom. Let’s talk about safety for a moment. Imagine this, a bowl filled with soup and ice with one spot direct in the middle filled with lava.
Say that nice lil bowl of lava was placed directly into my greedy hands right now. Yes, now I can scoop what looks to be soup into my mouth onto a bowl that is sitting pretty just waiting to be stored in the cupboard. Was “overthinking” the situation actually better for me?
Once again, Microwave-ing your food is the only downfall to my exploring. What I made last Wednesday will be mentally destroyed by me this Wednesday. Half will be so hot it’ll launch into a fire pop off and the other half will be Antarctica.
Over the years I have learned some nice coping mechanisms. Excusing my food by saying “ Oh a glass microwave it’s self for water” actually works nowadays. Just don’t turn your food into liquid but don’t microwave your food with water in the microwave.
I didn’t come up with this theory, read it online. And If think micro waving a cup of glass with “ microwave ” engraved on it fills up the other side with water I think we have bigger problems. I can’t even blame the microwave for my food being unevenly heated because I can use that as an excuse for my laziness.
Not heating my food evenly does not negate the fact that I let the midpoint of my reheating techniques take over my heating ability. Placing limitations on my behaviors is happening right in front of my eyes when it comes to microwave times. I know every time I put something in my microwave there isn’t any type of food that will truly bring me enjoyment outside of me emotionally tormenting myself over it.
This isn’t too far-fetched to voting for people in local minor elections. At least when you vote you feel like you’re helping prevent a world ending catastrophe. What scares me the most about microwaves is that we were able to make a machine that doesn’t heat food evenly.
We have sent men to the moon and accomplished many other foolish human milestones such as mapping out the human genome. All while creating these pocket sized computers for everyone to enjoy. I still like to think there is a cosmic kid glove slapping us in the face every time and jacking with us with technology.
Microwaves could very well be a lesson teaching device. It is teaching us that no matter how smart we think we are a tiny frozen burrito can defeat us at life. In spite of all the smart technology we have in our homes or in our hands.
Our lives are still dictated by simple physical and chemical know how we have yet to understand. Or maybe microwaves along with printers and vending machines aren’t the smart ones. All they do is rebel on us when we need them the most.
I was scooping the mush out of my lasagna bowl when I noticed the burnt edges having the potential to fall into the garbage. What fell into the garbage were the edges of the burnt pieces hanging off the bowl onto the lip of the garbage can. Preparing myself for another sad pizza, I noticed it was almost 10 PM by my clock.
I begrudgingly opened my freezer one last time and retrieved a microwaveable pizza. I will look forward to playing Russian Roulette with my dinner again. As if the crust wasn’t seducing me enough with what I could possibly Pizza decides to put “Dipped in delicious pizza sauce, cheese melts IN the cup!” on top of the doughy lid.
My expectations sky rocketed as the box illustrated what looked to be a photo shoot of a perfectly microwaved pizza. I couldn’t just stare at it for seconds, no I had placed my attention to the microwave prepping for battle. “I know your lying to me,” I grabbed my styrofoam tray and ripped the plastic in a violent manner.
Slapped it into the microwave. 4 minutes.
Easy peasy.
Like the instructions told me. BUT I pushed the start button and watched my turntable spin with intensity. Ready for whatever freak mutant horror was going to be unleashed on my wager.
So many inventions in this day and age try to better our lives and make them simpler but create a whole category of newer let downs. Okay so at least when our ancestors cooked over an open flame they knew what they were signing up for.
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