Today I got a stove. It's white and clean and perfect...and it cooks with GAS! Yes, I am a huge gas stove nerd. I've wanted this freakin' stove for like 20 years, and now thanks to the convenience of craigslist and a my willingness to take advantage of a down-on-her-luck woman forced to thin her belongings in order to buy food, I am now the proud owner of an almost-new, pristine, snow-white gas range.
I swoon over gas ranges solely because of the year I lived in that old apartment building owned by the old Bulgarians in St. Pete, FL. Our particular apartment had been inhabited by the owners for quite a long time, and the appliances were vintage, to say the least. There were lots of other perks like a very cool ironing board that folded up into the wall and a large selection of choice, used leopard-print furniture available for free in the storage room below us. But the coolest thing was the huge, ancient gas stove that sat like a tired elephant against the wall of our kitchen.
It had a ton of big, clunky dials on the front and it was really about as big as a VW Bug. You had to light it with matches and I'm pretty sure it wouldn't pass any modern safety inspections. When you had the oven on, the kitchen heated up so much you could have fired pottery on the kitchen table. I loved it. Despite its oldness and the danger factor, it was the most perfect cooking device I had ever used. Gas burners allow you to be detailed and precise about how you cook your food. I was spoiled. And ever after I have pined for the blue flame of gas.