Nine months ago our 48″ stove, super functional with two ovens, started to play up.

Granted it was 20 years old but it looked stalwart and strong and we didn’t want to scrap the old boy!

Our home warranty, American Homeshield, replaced countless parts to get the ovens working; the service repairman was patient and diligent.  He’d leave after a service visit and both ovens would be working…

not for long though…

sometimes he’d hardly be down the drive when one failed and we’d be on the blower again.

Parts took weeks to arrive and usually both ovens would be out by the time he returned.

It was a never-ending battle!

We’d have dinner parties and the oven that had been working just an hour ago would die just as guests arrived and we’d have to creatively modify the meal to the stove-top!

We became brilliant adaptors, steaming puddings instead of baking cakes,

shallow frying potatoes rather than roasting,

saute-ing Brussels, blanching green beans, marinating asparagus, pickling beets,

using a crock pot for joints, an air-fryer for pies and the outdoor grill for an array of goodies in tin foil!

We felt like culinary pioneers!

“Chuck Wagon” by januszsl is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Thanksgiving and Christmas came and went and we travelled to London in January leaving our failing oven behind.

In a shared, Beckenham kitchen, we discovered the joy of a pretty sleek toaster oven for heating and cooking just about anything.

“How about we just buy one of these nifty little gadgets and forget the oven?” I suggested…then remembered my granola and breads and how much I enjoyed cooking for crowds…indoors…with modern conveniences like convection, broil and simmer!

On our return all was well with the large oven for three weeks or so until, true to form, it said, “enough’s enough” and stood, stone cold, just as I was about to pop three banana nut loaves in.

I used my neighbor’s oven and American Home Shield declared they would give us their maximum appliance money to buy ourselves a new range, which of course came to no-where near the cost of a replacement.  The conditions stated that it had to be brand new with a one year warranty.

“That’s the most we give, ” the lady in purchasing explained adding, “the offer never expires.”

So we had unlimited time to find us a brand new 48″ stove somewhere vaguely within the price range.

‘Hubs is good at that’ I thought handing him the reins as easily as I’d elevated my father to ‘fearless lion killer’ when I was 6.

Off he went on a world-wide-web search.

He came up with attractive 30″ and 36″ beauts, in different styles and colors,

“Look at the choices we have,” he said waving his hand towards the screen displaying an array of very attractive, small, ranges.

I dug my heels in…

Our kitchen is fitted,

“What are we going to do with an 18″ gap between the cabinets and stove?” I asked.

“Or a 12″ one?” I added.

“Not to mention the colossal 48″ Vent-a-hood hovering overhead,” I said with a sigh.

It was going to be expensive but I wasn’t going to budge.

“Neither of us will be happy with a smaller stove,” I persisited.

“And we’ll get an outstanding replacement at half-the-price….”  At least that was the way I was looking at it!

He handed over the reins.

I started looking and found one, roughly within our price range,

“It’s right here in Dallas,” I said.

It came in brown with gold accents,

“I’m not a fan of brown,” Hubs said.

“It’s made in Italy…” I countered, “where Ferraris, Lamborghinis and Maseratis are manufactured… it can’t be all bad!”

We bit the bullet and bought the Superiore.  It arrived in our garage a few days later, just last week in fact.

I wondered if my turquoise kitchen would clash with the brown and the gold making the whole thing look awfully flashy…?

“We can re-do the backsplash,” I suggested to tone the colors down.

Hubs flashed me an ‘over my dead body look’ and I  held my tongue.

The following day the installer arrived with his mate.

The first thing they did was to pull the old oven out and we cleaned all the places we’d not been able to get to before.

We went to town scrubbing the floor and the walls and even inside the vent-a-hood.  Twenty years of grime banished thanks to ammonia and elbow grease!

“So which one’s the installation company owner?” I asked Hubs while the new range was being converted to propane and assessed for size.

“The one with the big nose…” he whispered as they began to bring the beast in.

That didn’t help I don’t notice facial features as he does.

“I think it’ll just make it through the door without us having to remove the frame,” one of them said.

“The Hispanic one…”  Hubs tried again…nope, I’d not detected an accent.  I shook my head.

“The younger one?” he suggested before grabbing a packing blanket to help scoot the stove across the kitchen floor without scratching it.

“Is he the bigger or smaller one?” I prompted as we stood and watched them position the oven between the cabinets.

“Oh, the smaller one,” he said as he rushed in to help.

Haha, he kills me!!

And I think you’ll agree, the oven turned out to be perfectly all right against the sea-blue of my cabinets, and the turquoise of my back splash and even the stainless steel of the vent-a-hood!  Phew!

“We can switch out the cabinet knobs,” I suggested.

We chose high gloss chocolate brown to paint the original wooden knobs we’d removed five years ago!

We may go to metallic gold…

So far Hubs is loving the brown!!

You may also like ...

San Miguel de Allende…

At the Back of The Barn Doors…

Our New Patio…

The Market Place 2…

Travel Angst…

Los Alamos…

Aggro…

A Fall…