My cooktop and I have a complicated relationship.  I do tend to develop a certain bond with my appliances which falls just short of giving them all names.  They speak to me in ways that are difficult to explain.  So I will not try.  However, my cooktop and I are working out our differences and gaining respect for one another, I am certain.

Three years ago I remodeled the kitchen.  I got rid of the old counter tops and replaced several appliances.  I switched out my 30 year old standard electric cook top with its grease and burned food collecting drip pans with a sleek glass flat top.  Black.  Looks great.  Easy to clean.


So then, let me make myself a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast.  Nevermind using the microwave today.  No hurry, no where to go.  Pour the desired amount of milk into my small saucepan and heat it up.  We want a boil.  Yes.

Oh, and while I am waiting I will just restock the shiny new refrigerator with some of my favorite flavored mineral water.  No rush.  Just waiting for the stove top to do what it will to the milk in the pan I have placed on the highest setting.  And hmmm, what is this in the back of the top shelf?  A container of some whipped dessert topping never opened, but clearly molding on the inside.  When did I buy that?  Last Thanksgiving I think…. what is that sound?

Did you know boiling soy milk resembles white molten lava as it cascades over the sides of a small saucepan and flows across the counter?  Hissing, steaming, roiling frothily, lifting the lid of the pan determinedly, boiling soy milk has firm intentions that there is somewhere to go.

Well, the microwave will do then today.  My attention span just is not ready for the due diligence required to attend to preparing something that requires my presence.  There are days when I can hover lovingly over a large pot while I gently monitor garlic and onion basking warmly in a splot of olive oil.  But not today.

My new cooktop is just all business.  Not like the old one where I could crank it to high and load the dishwasher before the smoke detector went off.  Now, the race is on as soon as I turn the knob and my cooktop becomes a culinary Maserati.  I will adjust.  Am I easily distracted?   I like to think of it as multi-tasking, but we all know what a bad rep that term has gained.

No, my new cooktop sets firm limits and has zero tolerance for any dilly-dallying.  We will come to terms.  There is a simmer setting that I have threatened to leave on and put the other burners on hiatus.  But we are talking it out.  Communication is a beautiful thing when life hands you complexities.




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