My breadmaker died the other day.
I make fresh bread, at least one loaf, every day.
I have been very spoiled to have this mini kitchen helper for a few years now. It was so nice to just drop in ingredients, push a button and in a few hours my home would have the wonderful aroma of fresh baked bread. It would be hot and in the perfect little rectangular cube. I would let it cool then slice it for snacking on or for sandwiches.
Alas, our days together in the kitchen are over.
I will always remember the scare you gave me towards the end when you were struggling to hang on.
The burning smell that filled the house as I corrected papers late at night on the couch.
How the stop button refused to work.
How when I then pulled the cord from the outlet you sparked at me and I let a small scream escape my lips.
The bread dough inside, not even formed, just a glob of starch sitting at the bottom of the baking pan…burning.
It was so sad.
We tried to give you an overhaul.
Cleaned you outside and in till you sparkled like a CHRISTmas tree.
You smelled almost new and looked amazing sitting up there on my counter ready to try again.
We plugged you in.
We opened your lid.
All looked as it should, so we proceeded.
In went the yeast, sugar and warm water to your vessel to begin the process of creation.
Going well so far, we then added the other dry ingredients then the wet. We closed the lid and pushed the correct buttons to begin the process.
Vroom. Vroom. Vroom.
No bad burning smells anywhere!
Two hours and forty minutes later I send Rebecca to stop and peek inside the window on the lid to see how beautiful this loaf of bread must be.
Since I have not smelled anything burning I assume the problem has been fixed.
“Momma, it didn’t do anything” is what I hear from my daughter.
“Just hit stop then honey” I reply.
Of coarse it does not work so she proceeds to pull out the cord as I am yelling not to.
“Too late. I was just trying to help” she responds.
Disappointed I go to my machine and lift the lid.
It is just dry dough.
Totally bummed I leave the machine there to cool.
Time to go old school again.
I drag out my big bowl and all the ingredients I need for making bread.
I combine them, kneed them and then let them rise in the turned off oven.
I formed two loaves, let them sit for a few then put them in the oven.
Forty minutes later…
house smells like baking bread and we have two awesome loaves of bread. That is twice what I usually make!
The kiddos and I eat one and save the other for later.
Points for Momma!
Feeling a little bit better I go back to my old friend breadmaker to see what I might have missed in the fixing.
I pull out the cooking pan and see just millimeters from the heating element…
all the liquid from the wet part of the ingredients at the bottom of the mini oven.
Sweet Jesus you protected us! My daughter pulled out the cord! She could have been electrocuted!
Our house could have caught on fire!!!
The bread machine could have caught on fire!!
Thank you God for saving us!!
Miracle is what that was right there.
Nothing short of exactly what it was, a miracle.
Today, as I kneed my latest loaf, I bid you farewell my old bread machine.
I will not be getting another.
You have terrified me to the point of never wanting one again.
(or at least not while there are children in my house)
So off I send my son to deposit you in your green container on your way to the green e-waste facility to spend your eternity.
Rest in Peace
Hey, side note here, maybe this will be a good way to get my arms all toned up!!!
I will post a picture of our latest bread tomorrow :)