Lest you think I hate all GE appliances, you should know that I LOVE my GE gas stove top and double oven.  It rocks…it really does.  Despite the fact that I can’t get the self-cleaning oven mechanism to work unless I unscrew FORTY EIGHT tiny little thingamabobs so I can remove all the racks (three in each oven) so that the self-cleaning doohickey will actually work.  Then I have to screw back in FORTY EIGHT tiny little thingamabobs and put back in all six oven racks to I can turn on my oven and practice my culinary arts.   So yeah, if you’re thinking I don’t clean my oven much (if at all), you’d be right.  Don’t let that scare you off from accepting an invite to my house for dinner…I make up for it in other ways (namely inviting scintillating guests who won’t care that my oven is knee-deep in black crud).


One reason I love my GE stove and oven is that it has a griddle.  I love griddles and the ideas that griddles evoke.  Namely, me flipping fresh, fluffy pancakes on a Saturday morning while my happy, well-adjusted family moves serenely through the kitchen, pouring fresh-squeezed orange juice and slicing fresh fruit.  HA!  I can make some killer pancakes alright (along with some to-die-for waffles with my Hampton Inn, Dee-luxe, Kick-Butt Waffle Iron to the Stars), but my family is nowhere to be seen when I’m flipping some Aunt Jemima’s on the griddle.


But when we first moved into the house, I had some Technical Griddle Difficulties (TGD).  After all, I’d never had a griddle before. The problem was the griddle wouldn’t get hot enough and I spent two or three hapless Saturday mornings trying to get that griddle to cook me some killer cakes.  Instead I got wet, sloppy goo. Finally I called a service tech (just the beginning of a long and miserable relationship with appliance service techs).


So Repair Guy shows up and flips off the cover of the griddle and looks starts examining this big slab of iron.  “Let’s take a look at this thang.”  “What are you doing, why did you remove the griddle?” I ask.  And he looked at me like I was some Sandra Lee Semi-Home Kook.  And that, friends, is how I found out I had been making pancakes on the COVER of the griddle. Who knew that I was supposed to remove the cover and that this ugly, pedestrian, industrial hunk of iron was, indeed, the actual griddle?  Do wonders cease, I ask you?


Now, I’m not the greatest cook in the world, but I do like to cook and I have put together more than a few dinner parties.  So I was deeply, tragically embarrassed by this culinary gaffe.  I couldn’t BELIEVE I was makin’ cakes on my freakin’ griddle COVER! 


“Is this going to make your book?” I ask Repair Guy on his way out.

“What book?”


“The book you’ll surely write about all the stupid people who call service technicians after they’ve been making pancakes on their griddle cover.”


“Yeah, lady, you would make the book.”


Aren’t you proud to know me?