The Gas vs. Electric Stove Debate
The debate over gas stoves vs. electric stoves is ongoing. Many people prefer what they grew up with, and that’s understandable. Familiarity often shapes our choices. However, beyond nostalgia, which is better for cooking: gas or electric?
Factors to Consider
There’s no one-size-fits-all answer. Both types of stoves cook food differently. Your choice may depend on what you cook most often. Additionally, consider safety and utility costs. Let’s delve into these factors with a detailed analysis below.
Gas Stoves: Cost-Effective in the Long Run
Buying a new stove is a big investment. Comparing gas and electric stoves upfront can be tricky due to price ranges. Low-end electric stoves start around $650, while gas stoves start at $800. High-end electric stoves can cost up to $2,800, whereas top gas stoves are about $2,300.
In the long run, gas stoves are cheaper due to lower utility costs. Utility rates vary, but generally, gas is less expensive than electricity. Investing in a gas stove can save you 10-30% annually on utilities.
Electric Stoves: Safer Option
Electric stoves are safer. Gas stoves have open flames, which can be hazardous, especially for children and pets. Items like tea towels and wooden spoons near the flame can catch fire. Although electric stoves can burn you, it’s less likely. Gas stoves’ flames indicate when they’re hot, but electric burners can stay hot without visible signs. Still, electric stoves are less likely to cause burns. Plus, they don’t emit gas, eliminating the risk of leaks.
Gas Stoves: Faster Cooking
Gas stoves heat up quickly, which is why many restaurants use them. They reduce cooking time significantly. Electric stoves take longer to heat up, while gas burners ignite instantly and start heating the pot immediately.
Electric Ovens: Even Cooking
Electric ovens cook more evenly than gas ovens. Gas emits moisture, creating a wetter heat, while electric ovens provide dry heat, perfect for roasts and baked goods. Gas stoves may cook unevenly, so food should be placed away from the heat source and rotated regularly.
Gas Stoves: Versatility
Gas stoves offer more cooking options, such as flambéing, charring, and toasting, which electric stoves can’t do as effectively. This versatility makes them a favorite among restaurants and dedicated home cooks.
Electric Stoves: Easier to Clean
Flat-top electric stoves are easier to clean. A damp sponge can usually handle most messes. Even electric stoves with coil burners are manageable—remove the burner, clean the plate, and reattach. Cleaning takes just a few minutes.
In contrast, gas stoves have heavy, multi-part grates that need to be removed. Cleaning them can be time-consuming, and losing an important piece is a risk.
Conclusion
Ultimately, the choice between gas and electric stoves depends on your cooking habits, safety needs, and willingness to manage utility costs and cleaning. Both have their advantages, so consider what matters most to you in your kitchen.
My wife started to distance herself from my daughter and me. One day, she left an envelope and disappeared
When my wife started pulling away from me and our daughter, I couldn’t understand why. My heartbreaking story is about how someone can love you so much that they try to protect you by all means. Read on to see how we traversed secrets, innocent lies, and heartache to unite as a family.
There’s something deeply unsettling about not knowing the whole story, especially when it involves the people you love the most. Okay, let me backtrack a bit, my name is Kevin, and Levine and I have been married for 15 lovely years.
We share one amazing child, Emily, who is still quite young and attending school. My wife and daughter mean the world to me, and I believe we have a great family. However, around six months ago, Levine started withdrawing and avoiding me and our daughter.
For months, I watched as my formerly loving and caring wife grew increasingly distant by the day. What started as small changes in her demeanor escalated into full-blown avoidance. Her smiles are fewer and her nights spent awake longer.
I even sometimes caught glimpses of her crying in the bathroom more than once. But every time I approached her about it, she brushed off my concerns with a shaky “I’m fine.” Yet, she wasn’t. And deep down, I knew it.
This unspoken “thing” hung over me and our daughter heavily, causing our family relationships to start cracking.
“Levine, please talk to me,” I pleaded one evening, finding her again at the window, staring into the backyard. Her back was to me, her shoulders tense.
“I just need some air, Kevin. That’s all,” she murmured, her voice hardly above a whisper.
I stepped closer, my concern deepening. “It’s been months of ‘just needing air.’ You’re scaring me, baby. You’re scaring Emily.”
She turned then, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “I can’t, not yet…” her voice trailed off as she turned back to the window, leaving me standing helplessly behind her.
I returned home yesterday from picking Emily up at school to find the house eerily silent. The morning Levine left was like any other, except she didn’t say goodbye. My stay-at-home wife wasn’t anywhere when we arrived.
However, on the kitchen table amidst the usual clutter of mail and Emily’s school books that she had come with, I found THIS DREADFUL ENVELOPE. My name scrawled across it in Levine’s familiar handwriting.
My heart sank to my stomach as I tore it open with trembling hands. Inside, her letter lay, written in the same shaky hand that had addressed the envelope. As I opened it, tears streamed down my face as I found out what she had been going through all along:
“My dearest husband,
If you’re reading this, then I am already gone. I couldn’t bear to tell you in person, for fear I would never be able to leave. I have been diagnosed with stage 3 cancer, and the doctors are not hopeful. It is my deepest fear to become a burden to you and our beautiful Emily.
I want to protect you both from the pain of watching me deteriorate. I love you both more than life itself, and it’s because I love you that I need to do this. Please understand that this is the hardest choice I’ve ever made, but it’s made out of love. I am at Clear Life Center, a quiet hospice two states away. Please forgive me.
With all my love, always,
Levine.”
Tears blurred my vision as I tried to compose myself. My lovely, beautiful wife had chosen solitude over the anguish she believed her illness would cause us. If I thought I loved her before, at that moment I realized I loved her MORE THAN EVER.
Without a second thought, I packed a bag. I told Emily, “My baby, mommy’s not feeling too well, and we are going on a little trip to see her, okay?” My brave little girl with a worried face asked, “Is she going to be okay, Daddy?”
Not wanting to lie to her, I replied, “She’s going to feel much better when she sees us, I promise.” We drove straight to the facility my wife mentioned, desperate to be with her, regardless of her wishes to shield us.
When we arrived and I found her, the reality of her condition hit hard. Levine was frail, a shadow of the vibrant woman I had fallen in love with. Yet, when she saw us, her eyes lit up with a mix of joy and sorrow, and she instantly looked better, than I had envisioned!
“Kevin, Emily,” she murmured, reaching out weakly.
“Mom, why didn’t you tell us? We could have helped…” Emily sobbed, clutching her mother’s hand. “I thought… I thought it would be easier this way,” Levine whispered, tears streaming down her face.
“We needed to be here, with you. No matter what,” I said, gripping her hand.
We spent those last weeks of her illness by her side, achieving her life goals before her death. Whenever she was strong enough, we went out for walks, well, she was in a wheelchair. She got to tell Emily all the things she wished her to know before her passing.
“I’ll always love you, my sweet baby girl. And I want you to know that I will be with you in spirit for all the days of your life,” Levine told Emily as they embraced, shedding more tears.
We talked, laughed, and sometimes sat in silence, savoring the precious moments we had left. Emily read her favorite books aloud, and I held her mother’s hand every night until she fell asleep.
My darling wife passed away holding my hand. Emily curled up beside her, a peaceful expression on her face. Her last days were not filled with the pain and suffering she had feared but with love and the warmth of her family.
In the wake of her passing, I’ve come to realize the profound strength it took for her to make the decision she did. Levine’s act, initially so incomprehensible to me, was one of selfless love. The kind that sees beyond immediate pain to the eventual peace it can bring to those left behind.
Now, as Emily and I adjust to a world without Levine, we do so with a deep understanding of her last gift to us. Not just the envelope that explained her absence, but the enduring presence of her love.
A love that, like the subtle fragrance of her favorite flowers, lingers around us, invisible yet palpable. It remained a gentle reminder that even in their absence, love remains.
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