Monday, April 20, 2009

I Hate To Be One Of Those Lame People

who blog about their appliances. But I admit it:

I'm an appliance whore. 

The only major disagreement that I have ever had with Mr. Foxypants is over my refrigerator. That's the one thing that I had to leave behind for my renters when I moved in with him last year. My old fridge was custom-built for me by Marvel, the refrigerator division of Viking. It was such a pain in the ass to manufacture, that I own the prototype. Marvel will never make another one like it. Basically, it is a glass-fronted undercounter unit designed for restaurants stacked on top of a stainless steel freezer unit. It's gorgeous, works like a champ and uses about as much energy as a single light bulb every month. Mr. Foxypants hates this refrigerator because it is so small and doesn't have door storage for his enormous collection of moldy preserves and out-of-date condiments.

It was a true testament of my love that I left that piece of appliance perfection behind for my renters, and moved in with the 20 cubic foot, black, pebble-finished, monstrosity that my boyfriend brought into the relationship. I've tried to get over having to store my food in a crappy refrigerator that takes up nine square feet of my precious kitchen floor real estate. I've told myself that owning a beautiful fridge does not make me a better person. I've actually prayed for the ugly fridge to break down so I could have an excuse to replace it. I know. This is pathetic.

So, even though Mr. Foxypants sent me the following email last friday--

"I know you really love your marvel. And in case it’s not apparently obvious, I’m trying to go out of my way to get you something special to fill that refrigerated void in your life…"

--still it came as a total shock to me when Mr. Foxypants announced on Saturday that we were going to go shopping for a new refrigerator. I think part of his change of heart came from the fact that his refrigerator is loud, leaks water, and doesn't close entirely unless you bump the door with your hip really hard. But I suspect the real reason for this decision is that compared to my darling vintage stove which I moved into his house last month, there can be no doubt: his fridge is ass ugly. 

Oh, how I love my shallow boyfriend who cares about filling that refrigerated void in my life.

Now, here's my question: When did refrigerators get so huge? We went to four different home stores on Saturday night on a reconnaisance mission and every single one of them was filled with gigantic french door fridges. It's no wonder Americans are so fat. It would take a family of 12 to eat through 25 cubic feet of food before it goes bad. Even though we only looked at the Energy Star rated models, all of them use more energy than my 11-year-old Marvel which, by the way, isn't Energy Star rated, just smaller and more efficient. The only small refrigerators that anyone carries are those rinkydink ones you could rent for your dorm room for $20 a month. None of the stores carry any of the top 10 most efficient models that have received excellent reviews online. Which, to me, seems slightly outrageous. 

Mr. Foxypants and I return home in a state of righteous annoyance. Even though he agrees that it's important to be as green as possible with this purchase, he feels like I'm being unreasonable about my expectations. There is no way to get a bottom freezer, 100% stainless steel, freestanding, restaurant grade refrigeration unit that also meets our energy efficiency standards, and has a small footprint for under $4000. And since I am allegedly on a savings rampage, I don't really have a leg to stand on, because he's the one who will be paying for the refrigerator, not me.

I refuse to be thwarted. I spend three hours the next day calling every other new and used appliance store in a 25 mile radius of my house searching for the most elusive of cute appliances. (All right, the most elusive of cute appliances would be a washing machine, but I already have one of those and this is my story). As you might guess, cute industrial refrigerators are basically impossible to find used because who wants to get rid of pure cooling awesomeness? That's right. No one. The manager of the local fancy appliance store does take pity on me and offers to give me a $700 discount on their Liebherr 30 inch floor model, so it will only cost me $4000 without tax, a price that I cannot afford and cannot even use to prove my boyfriend wrong about my intractable nature. 

So, how dumb am I? Really dumb. Because, had I looked on ebay I would have found a slightly used, but still under warranty Liebherr refrigerator for HALF its normal sticker price that measures a slinky 24 inches by 24 inches by 81 inches, offered by an ebay dealer located THIRTY miles from my house, and been able to buy it from the comfort of my home instead of spending two frustrating hours walking through home stores and three hours on the phone calling every other store in a 25 mile radius. 

And in the world of refrigeration, the 24 inch Liebherr is the only unit that can hold a candle to my Marvel. 

Yes, anything worth having can be found used. I bought the Liebherr 24 inch off ebay this morning and it's being delivered on Thursday. 

Color me smug.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Channeling My Inner-1950's Housewife, Who, By The Way, Is Awesome

I needed to replace the gorgeous vintage Wedgewood stove in my old house (which I moved to the house that I share with Mr. Foxypants) with a "new" stove for my renters. I am a big fan of  Okeefe & Merritt and Wedgewood stoves from the 1940's and 1950's. In addition to cooking like champs, owning a vintage stove is like having a classic car in your kitchen. They are just so cute. So, instead of buying a new stove, I went shopping for a vintage range on Craigslist. I found a O&M cutie for just $100! Vintage stoves in LA sell for $1200-$12,000 depending on the model and condition, so this one was a total steal. The reason why it was a steal? Well, that would be because it was in pieces. I spent half of yesterday assembling the parts into what resembled the other vintage stoves I have owned. Then I called the gas company for a free appliance check, so I could be sure there weren't any gas leaks I wasn't smelling. 

The gas guy came out and told me I needed a "real" stove mechanic to fix the stove, as the safety valve to my oven didn't work and two of the burners refused to light and needed to be replaced. "You know, you could buy a new stove for $300," he told me sarcastically on his way out the door.

Today I stopped by Sav-On Appliance in Burbank. (I must give Marsha and Emmett, the owners, a huge plug. Due to their proximity to Hollywood, Sav-on supplies most of the vintage appliances you see on tv shows and movies. They have beautiful vintage stuff along with a bunch of other crate damaged but totally working new appliances. They are also amazing at what they do). I asked Marsha if she had a oven safety valve for my model stove lying around and if she could do a house call. Instead of charging me $300 for what she thought was simple work, Marsha proceeded to give me a 20 minute clinic on what could be wrong with my current stove that I could repair. For example, she told me that cobwebs could be blocking the gas line and that I could clear that up with a bent paperclip.

Armed with steel wool, a darning needle, and new information, I returned to my rental property. An hour later the stove is super clean and works perfectly! I didn't even have to call Marsha and have her walk me through how to disable the heater (yes, the range has a HOUSE HEATER in addition to a broiler, oven, griddle and four burners) so my renters wouldn't scorch themselves accidentally.

Vintage stove completely assembled with a flat head screwdriver and a darning needle! 

So, in addition to saving $1100 on the purchase of a vintage stove through savvy Craigslist shopping, and saving $300 on repairs by fixing the thing myself, I now have stove repair bragging rights.

Which are priceless.

There are several morals of the story:

1. Vintage stoves are the greatest. When's the last time you heard about someone fixing their microwave oven with a darning needle?
2. If something was created for a 1950's housewife to use, it probably means it was designed for her to fix. This means you can fix it too.
3. Just because some guy looks at your cute, but totally impractical shoes and deems you not handy...well, that just means he's a terrible dresser.