Every once in a while, I prepare a standard for work like a fudge, or a carrot cake, and for tomorrow I wanted to bring in a simple pound cake.  I prepped my standard double sizing of the recipe and popped it into the oven.  After 55 minutes, I pulled it out and found that only the left half had cooked completely.  I put it back in and after another five minutes pulled it out as the left half was starting to get a little over cooked and the right half wasn’t quite done.  I cut out the done portion, popped the rest back in the oven for another 10 minutes and about half of the half had finished cooking.  I cut this piece out again and was asymptotically approaching a properly cooked cake.  Not quite sure what to do, I cut the pound cake into cubes, mixed in a whipped topping, made a graham cracker crust to put under it and then topped it with strawberries.  I’d say it turned out well and have dubbed it FrankenCake.

I’m not sure why my oven wasn’t, well, obeying the laws of thermodynamics.  Later, I did a back-up batch of brownies that cooked evenly.  Maybe my oven feels unloved.

I cleaned the oven, replaced the bake element and turned the sucker on.  I heard the sound of electricity arcing which I’m somewhat used to and turned the oven to “Bake” and saw the bake element start to heat-up… despite the fact that the temperature knob was on “OFF”.  In a minute the element was rocket-hot.  So, it appears until I make the oven less digital and more analog my only available oven settings are “OFF” and “CLEAN”. Boo.

I went food shopping the other day for the first time in over a month and acquired two mules worth of food.  But with the oven broke, our options are limited.  So, I decided to play it subtle.  During unloading:

Dad: Stewwing potatoes, stew meat, chicken stock, chili mix, Crockpot Delights, and stuff for the toaster oven.  I guess I should look into getting a new bake element for the oven if I ever want to use a fork again.

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL!

I returned on Monday  a bit harried after driving 14 hours and I ran into one of my baking fans.

Coworker: Terry, why you in so late?  Where the cake?
Me: Well, I got in from a 14-hour drive from Chicago this morning.  The turnpike was really rough and I just had to sleep.   Also, my oven’s still broke.
Coworker: That terrible.
Me: The drive wasn’t that bad.
Coworker: No, your oven.  How we get cake?  What’s wrong with the oven?
Me: It might be the coil or the whole oven, I haven’t checked yet.
Coworker: Your oven too important to us.  I see if I can start a collection.  If not, I get purchase  order.  This too important to wait on.
Me: Thank you, I guess.
Coworker: No worry, I manager.  It what I do.

Hm… Vital piece of test apparatus breaks and I have to wait 20 days to send it out for repairs.  My personal oven breaks cutting off the confectionary supply lines and the full force of my division is brought to bear.  It’s good that we have priorities.

I think my oven may be dying:

Me: Dad, I think the oven’s dying.
Dad: It’s only 23 years old.  The light bulb even works still.
Me:  That wasn’t the bulb, that was the break in the heating element that my aluminum foil on fire.
Dad: Terry, I think the oven’s dying.