Buying a refrigerator wasn’t on my Memorial Day weekend To-Do list when I woke up Saturday, but…
My 24-year-old 18 cu. ft. Whirlpool fridge was cashing in. Nothing I did with the temperature controls made the ice cubes freeze or keep my DiGiorno pizza from bending.
It was either poison myself on semi-thawed chicken fingers or act. My father came to my rescue with his big cooler and took my freezer’s contents to his house. We figured the fridge stuff would be safe for now.
At hhgregg I found a shiny new 28 cu. ft. Samsung with French doors. Ooh, la la!
Even on sale, it cost nearly twice as much as I wanted to spend, but I couldn’t bring myself to buy another fridge like my simple little Whirlpool because the seeds of distrust had been sown.
The Whirlpool’s automatic ice maker was never hooked up because I considered it just one more thing to break. But my Samsung now has a touch-screen computer on the door and shoots out water, ice cubes, AND crushed ice.
So now I have a water filter to worry about.
Today’s refrigerators are like Hummers without wheels. Ludicrously oversized, poorly designed, and only an idiot thinks owning one is a good idea.
But you don’t realize all that until it’s in your house.
The Whirlpool had one big door and a freezer on top. Now I’ve got 2 little doors and a freezer on the bottom. Even though I’ve upgraded by 10 cu. ft. and this sullen brute of a fridge dwarfs everything else in the kitchen, the Samsung inside feels smaller.
When the Samsung arrived Sunday morning, the delivery guy said it needed 48 HOURS to cool down. That meant another trip to my parents with a cooler full of the fridge stuff — deli, drinks, condiments, pickles, half-eaten Fancy Feast.
Then I had to run 2-3 gallons of water through the door and throw out the first batches of ice cubes, although not as many as recommended because, by Sunday night after 2 full days without a fridge, I needed ice for my vodka — badly.
Everyone tells me Samsung fridges are great, but I’ve discovered one thing that sucks: The layout.
The French doors are the only place large bottles fit upright (unless you give up half an interior shelf that flips up), and the ice setup knocks out most of a shelf on one door.
The 2 crisper drawers have humidity controls, but the owner’s manual contains NOT ONE WORD on how they’re supposed to work. Who knows how damp a cucumber likes to be in the dark?
The manual only discusses putting fruits and vegetables in the DELI compartment, which also has separate temperature controls. But the temps they recommend for deli and fruits and vegetables are different.
Samsung must take us for saps with all the fancy-schmancy controls on flimsy plastic bins that are in NO WAY insulated or air-tight. The controls aren’t documented because Samsung knows they don’t do a damn thing.
The freezer is a big plastic pit, as handy as keeping the food in a clothes basket under the bed (if the bed could keep it frozen, I’m just sayin’). To see what you have, you need to stand boxes on end. If there’s anything liquid in them (I’m thinking gravy in TV dinners), heaven help you if the power goes out.
By Monday afternoon — 24 hours later — the Samsung, whom I call “Sam” because something that big deserves a name, seemed to have found his groove, so I went to my parents for a Memorial Day barbie, then reloaded my fridge contents back into the coolers and lugged it all home.
I’m not thrilled with how things are arranged yet, so Sam and I have a lot of work to do on our relationship. And his stainless-steel good looks now have the rest of the kitchen screaming for a makeover.
UPDATE for reader kittiequeen, pictures of the freezer:
The bottom of the freezer with the drawer closed…
Here’s the freezer drawer open…