So, today I thought I'd make some bread. Oatmeal bread. Have mixer, will knead.
The first time I used my new mixer for a yeast product, I made pizza dough. That only required 3 cups of flour. Today's recipe for Oatmeal bread required 2 cups of oatmeal and 6 1/2 - 7 1/2 cups of flour. Which I reduced to 5 cups of flour, recalling 2-ton loaves from my past...
I received my mixer as a birthday present last summer, and have been soooo thankful ever since - royal icing is a breeze, buttercream decorator icing just mooshes together so easily, I thought I'd basically diead and gone to heaven.
Today, my second day off this week (I only work 3 days a week) I thought I'd make oatmeal bread. Making bread has such strong memories for me, the smell wafting through the house, the basic-ness, the earthiness of it, the "rolling my sleeves up and bellowing ethnic folk songs" of it... (If you want to know where the quote is from, leave a comment at the end of the post!)
Well, my mouth was watering as I read and re-read the recipe. I had made notes in the margin of the recipe book (The Canadian Cookbook) and I couldn't remember why I had reduced the amount of oatmeal without reducing other ingredients... In the end I went with my gut instincts, reducing the oatmeal AND the flour content.
I stood and watched the dough hook do its magic, incorporating the flour into the bread. I could watch that thing all day! Then I heaved a sigh of contentment and continued doing other chores while the mixer did its thing - went to the basement, switched laundry from the washer to the dryer, put on a second load, and got some sausages out of the freezer for dinner.
As I came upstairs again, I smelled something unfamiliar, and thought, "My, that recipe is fragrant!"
I placed the sausages on the counter and turned to look at the mixer and see how it was doing. The microwave timer told me it had one minute of the ten minutes left.
And then my mixer just stopped.
I blinked my eyelids a few times in blank uncomprehension.
Slowly, realization dawned on me that something had gone amiss with the mixer. I reached out a nervous hand to put the switch back to the "off" position.
That's when I saw the smoke coming out from the side of the machine, from the slot where the speed controls are.
I quickly unplugged the machine.
And stood and watched it smoke.
Like everything it does, the mixer smokes quite well... So THIS was the source of the "fragrance" I had noted.
I touched the top of the mixer. It didn't feel that hot!
I stared another minute, then, since there were no actual flames, went to get the instruction manual,.
The first thing I did was curse my miserable disorganized existence, as the FIRST page of the manual says in plain, clear, black and white, "Put your proof of purchase HERE, you ars**le!" Of course, I hadn't done that. And no, it doesn't actually say "ars**le," but it SHOULD...
I was looking for a "troubleshooting" page, but there weren't any, because this mixer is reliable. It's not supposed to have trouble. I'm the trouble!
I touched the top of the mixer again. This time it was hot - really hot! I could hold my hand on it, but only by effort of will.
I returned to the manual. It had an 800 number for Canada. I called it, waded through the "if" list (If you are calling for x, press 1, if you are calling for y, press 2, if this and if that, etc..."
"Mindy" was very pleasant as I read the model and serial number to her and supplied her with my name, address, social insurance number, IQ, shoe size...
But when I told her what the problem was, that nine minutes into a ten-minute knead smoke had started coming out of my mixer and it had stopped, she asked me,
"How much flour did you have in your dough?"
I quickly checked the recipe book - both mine, and the one that had come with the mixer. She put me on hold while she checked with technical services. I compared recipes while I waited. I had reduced the amount of flour...I had more oatmeal than the recipe in the mixer book, which would make it heavier...Everything seemed to balance out. But I had used the mixer on level 1, the bottom speed, and their book said to mix dough on 2.
When she came back, Mindy said to keep the mixer unplugged for 12 hours and then try it again. I thanked her, and phoned Hubby.
Hubby said "I think it's a mechanical switch."
"Yes?" I said.
"Well, it's not electronic," he explained.
"And that means," I led...
"It means it's a piece of metal that snaps open when it's too hot. It'll snap back when it cools. You haven't "fried" anything."
Aah - something I could understand! I might NOT have fried my mixer!
.........
Epilogue
The mixer isn't broken.
The bread was heavy, but delicious.
I'm buggin Boyfriend to get the recipt stapled into the book.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
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