A tale of three toasters

For about ten years we have shared various abodes with a 1960s Japanese toaster that I acquired from Le Bon Coin - incredibly useful recycling site from which we buy just about everything other than food. 

The toaster has recently become a little surreal in its toasting, carbonising the odd corner, small bits of metal becoming loose; generally a geriatric toaster but still doing its job. I like the simplicity of it - the clicky clockwork wheel which counts down the toasting time, its smart chrome and teal blue livery, solid; and it's called Tornado. Interesting. Not sure if the 60s Japanese design team/marketing outfit thought it through very thoroughly, Sunrise, perhaps, or Summer Breeze Rippled Corn Field - bit clunky, but something evoking bread, breakfast, etc. Or maybe in Japan toast is only eaten in fear as severe weather conditions loom.

For some reason it was agreed in our household that perhaps it was time to update the bread grilling experience, and maybe buy A New Toaster! What?? NEW? Maybe it was the fact that we had actually acquired a new electric kettle a few months back after genning up on the most fuel efficient ones, the gas stove and old stainless steel kettle situation not being ideal . . .

I relegated - a tad tearfully - the old toaster to the dump pile, and Mark enthusiastically unwrapped and installed the new 'vintage' Russell Hobbs, cream and chrome (plastic) interloper. We tested it over a couple of breakfasts all arriving to the same conclusion: it warmed the bread efficiently, but actual toasting . . . nope. Even on the max setting. Maybe it was faulty; the one that had escaped the no-doubt rigorous testing stages in whatever Chinese factory it had been expelled from. Mark repackaged it and off it went to hopefully not join instant landfill via Uncle Amazon. We perused other models after not finding anything suitably 'vintage' on the bon coin other than SMEG which hold their scary price very well on the second hand market. 

The second cream and chrome toaster arrived - a little more like a 50s car, rounded, more knobs, dials and even a little red light to indicate ON. But, the same issue: light warming of the bread, nothing more. Ezra pointed out that the electric elements are spaced much further apart than those of the Tornado. To accommodate fatter slices of bread, or perhaps the machines are calibrated to white flabby bread only, not home made rustic slabs; or maybe it's some paranoid decree over heat levels to stop people burning toast, setting fire to themselves, the house or neighbourhood.

The new model was re-packed and sent back, and the Tornado reinstalled after a major clean of its real metal and chrome.

The Tornado

I've noted recently the rise of 'repair cafés'. What a great idea. I'd love to know that I could actually extend the life of one of our mouldering household appliances when their time would normally be deemed to be up.

                                                     Think I'd rather like this fancy 20s one...