Yesterday, my multi-speed Waring hand mixer died.
And, of course, it died in the line of duty. It was hubby's birthday. He prefers pie to cake, and his favorite: lemon meringue. I was whipping up the egg whites and my kitchen buddy suddenly died. The pie turned out okay, perhaps out of respect for my old mixer, but the meringue didn't stand as tall as it might have if the old Waring had lived just a minute or two longer.
I knew it wasn't well. Oh, it hadn't been coughing up blood or anything like that, but for the past couple of months, it would only give me two of its six speeds, and I would have to mess with the speed control before it would start.
Before the poor thing even had an indecent burial, hubby was on the Internet searching for its replacement. (You see, he's quite fond of Dr. Oetker's Mousse Supreme which must be beaten for nearly five minutes. I think that's what might have killed the Waring...all those Mousse Supremes we've had this year--the light version, to avoid excess calories.)
I loved that mixer. My brother gave it to me when I moved into my first house. (As I've mentioned in the past, he's given me most of my small kitchen appliances.) Now I live in fear that the toaster oven and electric fry pan of the same vintage may soon kick the bucket. My Waring hand mixer even lived in the box it came in from the factory all those years ago. And, of course, you can't buy Waring hand mixers anymore. Now Waring concentrates on bar blenders.
I'll get a new hand mixer, but it won't be the same. In these days of planned obsolescence, a new mixer will probably live a couple of years and go on to that great appliance store in the sky.
But please, let's have a moment of silence for my late, great, Waring hand mixer.
( ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...)
Thank you.
Are you inordinately attached to any of your kitchen appliances?