The Apparatus: Our Deep Fryer

You know how some of your favorite posessions are the least practical? And some of your best friends require the most effort to remain friends? Such is our relationship with the circa 1978 Kmart Cooker-Fryer.

If you have ever valued nostalgia more highly than functionality (perhaps by eating at Sonic burger), you can understand our affection for this monstrosity. Raided from my mother's kitchen, this chrome-plated fryer has all the characteristics expected from a Cold War era appliance: the bold lettering, the pale yellow base, and the quilt-patterned un-grounded power chord. Sure, it doesn't have as many fancy features as its descendants, but the one oversized temperature knob is all you really need anyway. I'll be the first to admit that the "Breaded Veal Chops" setting is a little disturbing, but it gives the unit character and speaks volumes of latter-day Americana.

This appliance takes no prisoners. It has no graphics of any kind. In no way does it make considerations for safety amidst scalding oil (a la The Cornballer). In a world of pre-sliced apples and lettuce-wrapped burgers, the deep fryer ignores all health and time constraints: It takes forever, and it's exceedingly fatty.

And that's why we love it.