“Oh, I don’t have a microwave,” that person who doesn’t have a microwave will tell you, judgment dusting their words like icing sugar atop a microwave mug cake. Inevitably, this will be followed by a light humblebrag like: “Call me old-fashioned, but I’ve just never seen the need.” They bake their cakes in the oven, reheat their leftovers on the hob, and they never have ready meals, which is all they really believe a microwave is good for. No matter that last week’s cooking trends report from Waitrose (no less) has revealed that microwave sales are up 13% at John Lewis compared to last year, and that it is this year’s most popular kitchen gadget among those surveyed; for that person, not owning a microwave is as fundamental to their personal brand as drinking natural wine and riding a fixie.
As hot takes on household appliances go, this one intrigues me most. After all, no one gets het up over kettles. I don’t own a toaster for the same reason one might not own a microwave – my kitchen’s too small – but I don’t make a point of it, I just burn my bread under the grill. Sure, spiralisers and juicers were a bit divisive back in their day, but those furores were like the fads themselves, lighthearted and fleeting – as, I bet, will be the current must-have gadget, the air fryer. Nearly six decades since microwaves appeared on the market, however, conversations about them still assume a moral dimension – particularly among foodies who find beeps, buttons and a setting called “chaos defrost” anathema to what “good” food should be.
On the one hand, I can see how they got there, as for many years microwaves did mean “bad” cooking. Popularised in the late 1970s, the gadget spawned a slew of microwave cookbooks, which advocated zapping everything from french toast to roast beef. My dad microwaved scrambled eggs throughout his single parenting years, and though my brother and I liked them at the time, I can still recall their … solid texture. Then came the 80s, and its brightly packaged, highly processed ready meals, and the microwave was tarnished by association when those foods started – rightly – falling from grace.
But to associate microwaves only with ready meals reveals a mindset that is stuck in the past – and real foodies know that using them makes eating healthier and more convenient, not lazier. Take lasagne, for example. Call me fussy, but I refuse to condone the belief that melted-then-solidified mozzarella and bechamel sauce is “better” fridge-cold. A microwave is the best (because quickest, tastiest and most energy-efficient) way to reheat it so it’s oozing and bubbling again. Reheating food – particularly curries, stews and pies – brings out flavours that have had time to develop overnight, an effect the Waitrose cooking report informs me is known as “kokumi” or “rich taste”. Reheating cooked pasta lowers its GI, transforming it into a slower-releasing carbohydrate. And a microwave’s ability to cook greens while preserving the nutrients they contain makes it a gadget for life, not just for leftovers.
As with every story, this one’s more complicated than it seems, not least by time and trends in food and society. When it comes to ultra-processed food, it is clear the microwave is not the organ grinder but the monkey – and the issues go far beyond “microwave meals”. As for my dad’s eggs – well, while they’re no threat to Delia Smith’s, they do point to the microwave’s power to help people muddle through when they’re struggling. I think of a microwave and I think of my late grandpa, who at 100 years old was still able to live alone thanks to that and Wiltshire Farm Foods ready meals delivery service. I think of my grandma, who batch cooked for my mum so she could maintain her career and still feed us kids well in the evenings. I think of everyone tight on money and time, trying to minimise waste and maximise energy efficiency. On a lighter note, I think of myself and my preference for leftover hot food to be hot when I eat it the next day.
So I’m delighted with Waitrose’s report, which as well as giving me a new word, is helping to rehabilitate my much-loved, much-maligned gadget. I’m Clare, I drink just wine, ride a bike with five gears – and I’m that person who has a microwave.
Clare Finney is the author of Hungry Heart: A Story of Food and Love
