Suicidal Bread Maker fixed up again

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Last March 9th I set out to make bread as happens about 3 times in any two weeks. Having set it going, I was glued here to the AmigaOne when a great thump and a immediate racket got through my earphones. Thinking it was more cat shenanigans, I moved through the bedroom where the day shift was interested in the sound, but were unmoved.

Alas, I found the breadmaker on the floor with the partially kneeded bread sitting in the detached breakmaker top. The cord had been yanked out of the wall. The bread pan was off to the side.

I gathered up the parts, put it back on the counter, re-inserted the pan, dumped the gooey glob off the lid and into the pan, plugged the unit back in. It must have a half-way still useable backup battery because the settings were as I had put them and pressing START resumed with less than the usual 3 hours, 10 minutes it starts with.

The lid wouldn't sit down properly. I saw where a plastic hinge had busted off. I found the other bits of plastic (1 did escape) and set them aside. I put a full kettle of water on the top to weight down the lid... and went back to my Amiga.

The bread turned out... okay... but it was lopsided. Further investigation after breakfast (wherein my piece of toast produced the missing plastic shard) showed that the aluminum top, pressed inside the white, vinyl plastic cover had bent along one edge. I concluded that the heat insulation there was compromised.

New paddle for the bread maker Carol said, "Time to get down from the attic the next bread maker that my mother gave us for Christmas, what 2 years ago?". At first I was resigned to the prospect. Then I recalled that we had purchased an "extra" paddle and was wont to not waste that purchase. I reasoned it this way. Why did the machine attempt suicide? It was because it was banging around and managed to random (or not so random?) walk off the edge of the counter. That banging is partly due to a worn out paddle (see red line in the pic to the right). The paddle wears out that flat place, slapping back and forth kneeding the bread. I would estimate we have had 5 paddles in there. The more worn out it gets, the more the banging takes place. So you could say it was our fault. We drove this machine to suicide! I felt I should make it up to it... give it that new paddle it needed. To do that I needed to repair its hurts. I certainly wanted a decent loaf of bread.

I pried the cover from the aluminum lid. Then I could easily see the bent edge. The broken hinge was the ugly part. Carol is always buying glues of one sort or another when they are in the get-rid-of-it baskets at the places she shops. Looking over this one (one of the cats needed to look it over, too), it claimed to work on vinyl plastic, so I used it.

Next was to get the lid fixed. Hah. It was caked with old, hardened oil splats cooked into it all over after 5 years of operation. I spent more than an hour turning the aluminum in to a beautifully cleaned and brushed appearance. I had to, before I'd take it to ask for help. Now I knew this machine would be proud to make more bread. I took the lid to work and got a mechanical engineer friend of mine to analyze the problem and give me a prognosis.

"No problem. The edge rolled to create that bend because the original construction made the length very strong. Let's just roll it back! I bet it'll take that bend right back out." We concocted a couple jigs of pressed board and with 4 hands involved, used a vice to undo the roll. Not bad! The damaged edge is still detectable, but just barely. Everybody should have a mechnical engineer handy.

The glue got its requisite curing and I eased the lid back into the cover. Well. No time like the present. I made another loaf of bread!

It worked.


Last modified: 2008-03-16 13:42 anybrowser HTML 3.2