"Awesome!" A Blog.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

I am having a huge problem getting the right kind of toaster oven.

What I'm talking about is the kind of toaster oven that mounts beneath a cabinet and doesn't take up a bunch of counter space that frankly, just between you and me, I don't have. So far I've struck out at Home Depot (Foster City and San Carlos), Sears (Hillsdale), Williams-Sonoma (Hillsdale and Stanford), Macy's (Hillsdale and Stanford), Best Buy (San Carlos), the Internet (Groversville, NC), and a local restaurant supply store (actually, I haven't been there yet, I just thought of it while I was typing this list, but I fully expect to wander its aisles aimlessly for eight minutes while clerks avoid me).

Why do I want a toaster oven in the first place? Read on, dude. You came to the right place if that is the information you're after. Did you get here through Google?

You see, often times I want to cook a thing that is roughly eight ounces, so it's a waste to heat up my big old standard kitchen oven. I'll have a frozen salmon-puck-in-puff-pastry or something, and putting it in the oven is like parking a skateboard in the middle of an empty hangar. The thing's just sitting there in all this space wondering why in the hell the world is so lonesome, and I'm on the other side of the door wondering if there's any possible way to pipe Hank Williams tunes in for its final moments. I think it costs me like $48.92 to bake up a single serving of something in the big oven, and according to my imagination the same act would cost only $0.08 in a toaster oven. You can see why I want the smaller unit.

If anyone has any way of telling me how I can find a toaster oven which mounts beneath a cabinet, off the countertop, and can be obtained for less than, like, a hundred or so bucks, please use that way. I'll write your name on the thing's window in dry-erase pen for a while after I get it, if this goes down. The last thing my parmesan toasts will see before the great oblivion of my uvula will be your first name, backwards in translucent red, across some grimy glass, above a blackened horizon of crinkled tray-liner foil. Think about it.