If you follow my blog, you know that I recently purchased a new stove. It has a gas cook top and what I believe is an electric oven that does a lot of different things: bake, air-fry, convection oven, broiler, dehydrator, and I don’t know what all else. It scares me a little bit. I told my brother it even loads the dishwasher for me. Jane Jetson would be jealous.
When I purchased the stove, I was worried about storage space, because I was losing a side “cupboard” next to the oven. But when it was installed, I noticed a drawer labeled “storage” on the bottom, where the broiler on my previous stove was located. It now houses baking sheets, cooking racks, and pot covers. Lots of flat things.
My brother and his oldest daughter stopped by the house a few months ago. He wanted to see my miraculous oven that allegedly loads the dishwasher. He loved the stove. My niece kept trying to tell me the storage drawer was actually the broiler. I finally pointed out the label. But then my brother and I regaled her with a story about our parents–her grandparents–and when they, too, had a gas stove.
Their oven was also gas. They used to store brown paper grocery bags in the “drawer” beneath the oven. For years. Many, many years. Until the night the grocery bags caught fire because the alleged drawer was actually a broiler and where the oven pilot light (an open flame) was located. Yup.
Now, my dad was a pretty smart guy. I still can’t believe he didn’t know the “drawer” was a broiler or that the pilot light was there. Fortunately, my folks were able to smother the fire immediately, while yelling at we three children to get out of the house. No damage. But it was a moment.
And yeah, I made sure the new storage drawer was exactly as advertised.
It’s one of those stories to pass down to generations.
