Dear Instant Pot,
Maybe it’s because you came to me on my birthday when I was expecting someone else (an Air Fryer, to be precise). Maybe it’s because either way you’re a kitchen appliance, which doesn’t make for the most exciting birthday surprise. Or perhaps it’s because you’ve been hyped up more than the Super Bowl. But I have to confess, Instant Pot, I’m not in love with you.
Don’t get me wrong; I like you. There are certainly factors of convenience that make you useful. But so far, I’ve struggled. Of course, it feels blasphemous to even suggest that you, Instant Pot, aren’t the greatest thing since Harry freed Dobby. But despite the fact that I will honor my commitment to help you find your place in my kitchen, I’ve got a few issues:
- You’re like the Hallmark Channel of kitchen appliances; everything you touch turns out mushy. And while that’s great when it’s cold outside or I could use a little comfort, I just can’t swallow it day after day.
- You’re a bit of a braggart. It’s great that you’re popular, but that doesn’t mean you can get away with overselling your good points. One of your fanboys claims you can make chicken wings, but seriously, if I have to take out a baking sheet and broil in the oven, I think you ought to admit you can’t do it all.
- You make me waste so much time before I can even get you to do anything for me. I spend at least an hour online finding the perfect recipe every time, and then there’s prep work. And here I thought you were supposed to make my life easier.
- For all your gadgetry, you really only keep relying on the same couple of moves.
- You never talk. Sometimes, I don’t want to talk to Alexa or Siri. For all you can do, you’re surprisingly mum.
- I know you’re listening, but since you say nothing to me, I can’t help but wonder who you are talking to? Are you gathering information and reporting it back to your alien overlords? We’re priming for an invasion, and the more we integrate these gadgets of “convenience” into our lives, the easier we’re making it for them. Welcoming you seems a mighty big betrayal.
- Instant Pot doesn’t equal Instant Gratitude. I can cook. And I sometimes even like to cook. Not so much when I’m forced to, only to have my kids hate on it. But they’re too busy to do the cooking so I’m stuck with the thankless job of figuring out what wholesome food to subject my kids to, and wanting to put in as little effort as possible considering the payoff. I thought maybe you would be this miracle appliance that would make things better, make it easier to just put forth minimal effort and hopefully hit upon some good dishes (there’s a recipe for Mango Lime Shredded Chicken that is divine, despite the 10yo’s complaints). But so far, all I’m getting is grief.
- My old friends don’t get along with you. My attempts to recreate existing recipes have so far failed. There’s a level of tweaking required that I haven’t mastered, and as we’re already in the midst of our busy season, I don’t exactly have the time to sit around and supervise. If I did, I’d just be hanging out with my regular old pressure cooker!
- Everybody loves you! We make the perfect couple. Just you wait, they say. You’ll love it, too! So I play along, share the witty comments on Facebook about how much we’ve been hanging out. But… and I hate to break it to you, but I’ve been faking my enthusiasm. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.
So, I’m sorry, but I’m just not that into you. We can still hang out sometimes, but I’ve been neglecting my other kitchen friends, and we really need to cool it.
Maybe we could just be friends?