One of the great joys of remodeling is I get to pick out new appliances. There we go. And one of my best choices was our brand spanking new Bosch dishwasher.
Just to give you a little background, because I know you were hoping I would, our dishwasher is what started the entire kitchen remodel project. I won't get into all the gory details, because I already did that here. Suffice it to say eleven months and $20K over budget later, it was the right choice.
The Bosch is the third dishwasher we've had. The first that came with the house was a Westinghouse with a black door that clashed with the cabinets and counters. It sounded like a 747 taking off when it was running. So we replaced it with a snow white Maytag dishwasher, that was much quieter, went with the kitchen decor (such as it was) and worked fine for years.
Then one day, the handle broke when we tried to open it. We called a repair guy, who told us we could spend the money to get a new handle/door on it, or we could just use a dinner knife to unlock it by wedging it in and pushing down. Since we already had the knife, we decided to save the money. Besides, it felt a little McGyver-y and it was fun. At the beginning.
Soon after, we were unloading it again and the top rack broke its railings, almost crashing all the glassware in it to the linoleum floor. We could've had a nice down payment on a new dishwasher for what it would've cost to fix it, so for years we adapted to holding up the top rack with one hand, after we opened the door with the knife, and loading it with the other.
The McGyver-y part was starting to wear off.
Fast forward to the remodel. Now keep in mind it'd been years since I'd been appliance shopping, so it was a whole new world of dishwasher technology for me. I'm standing in the vast showroom at Friedman's Appliances, and our salesman—ask for Johnny—shows me the Bosch. I believe the sound I heard in that moment was the angels singing.
Next, the controls are on the top of the door instead of the front. So whether it's running or not, it's just a slab of uncluttered, shiny, stainless steel sitting there looking beautiful (a skill I happen to know a little something about).
While those features were important, the final one that sealed the deal was when Johnny (ask for Johnny) showed me the third rack. I didn't know whether to cry or faint with happiness. After years of trying to figure out how to put soft plastic lid tops and smaller items in a place they wouldn't melt or fall through to the bottom, this opened up a whole new world for me.
I just read the last couple sentences and I'm thinking the same thing you are about my getting a life. But I digress.
The third rack could've been part of my immensely popular and often read What Took So Long series of posts. But because of the impact it continues to have on me, I thought it needed a post of its own.
If you've followed me on here for any length of time—and if you have you really should pay more attention to what's going on in the world around you, because it's not pretty—then you know I'm somewhat of a dishwasher savant. I look at the pile of disorganized dirty dishes, and in my head I see them all placed perfectly in the dishwasher. I've never used the "there isn't anymore room" excuse. There's always enough room if you do it right.
Judgmental much?
The third rack makes my life easier. Ask anyone that knows me—I'm all about easy. While it brings me joy every time I open the door, there's now an entirely new strategy to employ when I'm loading the dishes. The third rack has a spray spinner attached to the bottom of it, which means the items in the second rack have to be low enough to clear it. It's dishwasher Tetris figuring it out.
Anyway, I'm pretty sure I've spent enough time rambling on about this.
Don't even get me started on the front-loading, full-size, stacked washer and dryer. That's for another day.
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