Our microwave broke two days ago.
You would think this would be a terrible, terrible thing. Oh, but the things we have cooked–slowly and beautifully–without it.
I became old-fashioned like grandma, turning bacon in the pan. The smell filled even the upstairs. I became slow and patient, listening for the song of the tea kettle that heated my water on the gas stove. I became an expert in heating leftovers with olive oil in the pan and added my own seasonings to make it even better.
I embraced the sounds and smells of a different kind of day with this thing I thought we needed, now gone.
When something breaks, it might just be, like my friend Sandy reminded me, to put me back into the joy of an unhurried life.
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Just in case you need a time saver one day – I've started using the method that my daughter uses when we want bacon – 20 minutes +/- in a 350 degree oven on a foil lined rimmed baking sheet. It's especially wonderful to have it baking while I'm turning pancakes. And the aroma drifts about as a wonderful breakfast call.
My Mother-in-law apparently did the same on Sunday mornings. It gave her time to change from her church clothes and ready the eggs and toast. No microwave needed!
Like!! 😉