Gratitude

Dear Toaster Oven

You’re the best $20 investment I’ve ever made

When I first saw you at the big-box department store, your red metal exterior looked so bright and shiny that I couldn’t believe you only cost twenty dollars. You came with your own special baking sheet that slides into place on top of your mini oven rack.

You fit perfectly on my countertop, tucked safely under a cabinet with several inches to spare, helping me maximize the space that was built in an era when kitchens were designed to be efficient and compact.

From day one, you started helping me with my electric bill, saving me the trouble of turning on the big oven unless I wanted to bake cookies or banana bread or some other delight you couldn’t quite handle.

Thank you for your help every day, for the endless series of potatoes you’ve baked (russet, gold, and sweet), for the many slices of cheese you’ve melted onto the veggie burgers you’ve cooked, for the broccoli and cauliflower and Brussels sprouts you’ve roasted, and for all the English muffins and slices of bread that you’ve toasted.

Remember when we learned to make tofu sandwiches together? You helped me bake the sliced, breaded tofu slowly so that it cooked through to a texture that was slightly firm while also having a delicate lightness to it, with a gently crunchy crust. Then you heated the artisan-baked hamburger buns till they were soft and warm.

Those were the days. Sometimes I can’t believe how you keep going strong, when so many other devices and appliances I’ve bought go too quickly downhill like the ever-more-sluggish battery in my iPhone or the door on my front-loading washing machine that’s always needed a little kick to stay shut.

I’m not sure how to say this, but, well, I guess you’ve heard about the multi-function ovens that air-fry, too. They even dehydrate. I held out for a long time, in my loyalty to you. They’re too big, I said. How much air-frying do I really need to do?

I want you to know that my girlfriend has a lot of respect for you. I told her how buying you was the best twenty dollars I ever spent. She understands, but she cooks in bigger quantities than I do. She sometimes wants to cook things you and I don’t like to even think about — thick steaks and tenderloin roasts. It’s best that we not dwell on it.

Thank you again for all your help, and I promise to find someone who will put you to good use. You’ll be so busy that you’ll forget me as you focus on doing what you love to do.

The timer on the oven my girlfriend bought makes a digital beep, beep, beep. Whenever I hear the single note of an old-school ding!, I’ll think of you.