An Open Letter to My Induction Stovetop

Dear Induction Stovetop,

It has been a long month and a half attempting to get acclimated to your quirks; the irritating way you beep when I place groceries on you, even though you occupy a large portion of real estate on my countertop; the obnoxious need to press an up arrow nine times to get you to heat up instead of simply turning a dial; the completely opposite issue you give me when attempting to cool off (do you recall burning my rice when it took me too long to press, press, press, press, press, press, press, press the down arrow to return to simmer? It really got me frustrated); the way you don’t always respond when I press the down or up arrows to change hearing.   I’ve dealt with you, and learned to avoid the
burner Power buttons that, comically, do not turn off each burner, but instead instantaneously burn my pesto pasta.  I’ve discovered there is no quick way to turn of a single burner, so while you may tout your quick ability to cool it is impossible to show off since it takes more press, press, press, press, press on the down arrow button that is slowly causing me to become irate and want to eat at cafes every evening.  In fact, the only thing preventing me from abandoning you altogether was the fact that I live in Spain where dinner restaurants don’t open until 8:30 PM. 

I do find you easy to wipe off; your one quality that in no way redeems your worth or makes you more desirable than my small but beautifully efficient Korean gas stove. It even shocked me on occasion, but I would take it back in a heartbeat to rid myself of your electronic menopausal temperament. So, I have tried to make this relationship work.
But, today you nearly got tossed into the trash.  I tried.  I did, in fact, unplug you and give you a tester tug, as you may recall,  only to find that your pesky cord was trapped behind the cabinet which was apparently cut to fit only the likes of you. Why was I so furious, you ask?!  I simply wanted to make some pancakes with the whole wheat flour, baking powder, and real maple syrup that me-from-Korea had the sense to pack in our household goods.  Those same household goods which I haven’t seen in the two months since I watched them depart in eleven crates from Korea.  Those same household goods that brought the joy of my own pots and pans, whom I absolutely adore and have cooked with for (crap, how long have I been married?) over a decade! The pots which are all the right size, have beautiful burn marks that I call seasoning, have handles in the right place, and are high quality stainless steel, copper bottom, Emeril Lugassi approved, non-stick professional grade cookware.  And you rejected them!  How dare you? No pancakes.  I hate you.
I am now going to buy a counter top gas canister stove to sit on top of you, and unplug your irate beeping. Thought you should know.
Best wishes,

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