An open letter to KitchenAid.
This is going to be emotional. I apologize in advance.
Currently, you and I have no relationship. I own none of your products (blenders, hand mixers, or your stand mixer). It’s not that I don’t want to own you, it’s just that I’m young and new to cooking and am figuring a lot of things out right now okay?
Sorry, didn’t meant to get defensive. I am making a point, though.
My hand mixer is a hand-me-down from my mom. It’s a beautiful avocado Sunbelt that was made sometime in the 70s. The more I search for the exact date, the more I realize that I’m afraid it may stop working, but so far, so good. We made banana bread together last week. But everyone knows a hand mixer has it’s place, and so does a stand mixer.
KitchenAid, I lust for your stand mixer.
You know it. I know it. America loves your stand mixers. People want them like none other. They’re the first thing listed under Products on your website.
Find them in every color of the rainbow. I’ve settled on boysenberry (see above).
Your stand mixers have become a status symbol in some kitchens, although it disappoints me every time I find out someone owns one and doesn’t use it on a frequent basis.
THEY DON’T DESERVE YOU.
But then again, do I?
There’s no culinary act that can’t be done without you. No offense, but you haven’t been around forever. People were making breads and cakes before electricity was even around, but it also took a lot longer and required more effort from strong whisking arms.
I must say that there are things I have not attempted because I’ve been hesitant to the mixing process. Will I overmix? Undermix? What’s “until just combined” really mean? These things have prevented me from baking the ciabatta, french breads, cakes, pasty dough and creams that I see people like Ina Garten and Paula Deen whip out of your glass bowls.
If I don’t attempt to make them without you, will the gratifying feeling of finally owning one of you be authentic?
Part of me thinks I’m cheating myself, that I need to do it the hard way before I use you for convenience.
The other part me acknowledges that you are much more than a powerful kitchen tool – you give beginning chefs the confidence and courage to start culinary projects they may have never tried without your help. Accomplished chefs relish in your reliability and appreciate how you speed up the work.
So what does this mean for us?
I honestly can’t afford you at your sticker price at this moment. However, John’s mom works at Kohls and she has the hookup on the employee discount, so we might be sealing the deal after the holidays.
Either way, you need to know that I care about you. I haven’t been avoiding you, but I’m figuring a lot of stuff out right now and I needed to let you know how I feel.