the distant future...

After fifteen years of sterling service, we said goodbye to our first ever dishwasher last week. 

As a slimline, MFI own-brand ("Diplomat") that came as part of our extremely cheap kitchen overhaul more than a decade ago, it's fair to say that this appliance vastly exceeded my expectations (just as the kitchen did itself. RIP MFI).  Not only did it do a perfectly acceptable job cleaning the dishes, but it also displayed a surprising longevity.

As with many things, I didn't know quite how much this had become a part of our lives until its seals failed and we were suddenly forced to handwash everything. It's not that I especially mind doing the dishes, it's just that I'd forgotten quite how much they pile up when you can't just stack them into the machine out of sight.

A friend was telling me last week that he knows someone who doesn't even bother having cupboards in his kitchen any more; he just has two dishwashers and uses one for storing dirty dishes, and the other for storing clean. I suppose you have to admire that sort of commitment to minimalism, even if it's probably not for everyone. My wife, for some reason, doesn't even subscribe to the idea that a dishwasher dries everything well enough that you can just put them straight into the cupboard and insists on a wipedown. I roll my shoulders and agree to this, on the understanding that she realises I don't bother doing this when she's not in the room.

A replacement appliance was pretty easy to source, even during a pandemic. John Lewis quickly came round with a new machine, installed it and took the old one away for recycling. 

So long and thanks for all the clean dishes.

As you'd expect, the new one works in much the same way as the old one, although the shelves aren't shaped the same way and I haven't yet quite worked out the most efficient way of stacking things as they don't fit in the same places in the same way as they used to. This is a very small, albeit mildly vexing, problem.

What's really taken me aback though is the fact that this new device is connected to the internet. As the keen owner of a brand new appliance, I dutifully connected it to my WIFI and can now contemplate at leisure the wisdom of this... who knew that there would be a need to receive so many push notifications about the salt and rinse aid status of my new machine, or that I would need to know, to the second, what stage the cleaning cycle was at and when it would be due to finish? It also projects a HAL-like red light onto the floor when it is in operation, so you don't distrub it by opening it before its work is done.

When the machines take over, as they surely will, I for one will be amongst the first to welcome our new robot masters.

I should do more middle class consumer reviews here, no?

practically floored.....

Look, I don’t usually go into this sort of thing, but I’m going to make a motorway services recommendation: if you find yourself on the northbound M40, you could do a whole lot worse than stop at Warwick Services. I initially only stopped because I needed a pee, but as I was stopping, I thought I might treat myself to a coffee: it had been a long weekend and I still had an hour or so of driving before I made it home. A caffeine boost seemed like a good idea. Now, I know you can get a cup of coffee at any motorway service station, and it’s hardly unusual to see a high street coffee franchise in there…. But this Starbucks was amazing. There was a bit of a queue, so I had the time to really take in my surroundings.

The first thing to note was the ceramic Starbucks mugs on display behind the counter. These were not ordinary Starbugs mugs, oh no. They each showcased the autograph of a luminary who had passed through the outlet, many leaving a cheeky little note. Of the many on display, I especially enjoyed Jeremy Kyle’s hearty recommendation of the “gang” behind the counter, and I think I saw mugs signed by both Dick AND Dom. They had hundreds of them. I’d tell you more, but those were the only ones with even vaguely legible handwriting, so…. (although I think I saw what could have been a Clarkson).

As I got nearer to the counter, I came onto the radar of the first assistant behind the counter. What tasty hot beverage would I like to enjoy? I’ll have a tall, black Americano to go, please. Would I like a cake or pastry with that tasty beverage? No thank you, I’m good. You laugh, but I was seriously the only person in the queue who turned that offer down. Tempting though the shiny cheesecake slices and the raspberry and coconut bread undoubtedly were, I baulked at the frankly astonishing price points. As it turned out, I needn’t have worried too much about the prices. My Americano was listed on the menu as being something like £2.50, although as I wasn’t really paying attention, when the girl initially said I owed her £1.80, I thought nothing of it. Then she hesitated, so I looked over her shoulder at the menu. Ah, ok, so I was going to need a bit more. I fiddled in my wallet, only for the girl to clearly decide that it wasn’t worth the hassle of changing whatever button she had originally pressed on the till, and so £1.80 it was. Fine. As long as you give me a tall, black Americano to go, then I don’t care that you’ve only charged me for a *glances at receipt* tall, fresh-brewed seasonal coffee.

Next up was the queue for the barista. He was brisk and customer focused, so he made a point of checking the order with each customer as they came to the end of the counter. They guy in front of me was also having a tall, black Americano, and a mug was duly plopped in front of him. To go. Ah, won’t be a moment, sir…. I’ll just make you another one. Oh, don’t bother. Just tip it into a cup and it’ll be fine. No, no sir, you don’t understand. Have you ever tried pouring a coffee from a mug into a paper cup? The espresso begins to separate, and it’s awful. It will only take 8 seconds to make you another one.

The guy and I exchanged a look. Whatever, right? If you say so… you’re the expert, right?

My coffee arrived shortly afterwards, and it was everything I expected a Starbucks coffee drunk from a paper cup as I drove up the M40 and turned off onto the A46 to be….. average at best.

They had free wi-fi, but I didn’t.

Recommended.

Should I do more of these crap consumer reviews, do you think? Could this be my ‘thing’? Do I sense a niche?