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Why slow cookers rock

Date Published:

02/10/2008

Slow cookers - labour savers or time wasters? Hannah Williams explains why slow cooking leaves her cold

As a rule I'm not a fan of gadgets in the kitchen; if you can't peel a carrot without reading a manual then something's amiss. But slow cookers operate some strange hybrid ground. While they appear to be an electronic contraption we could all easily live without, they have been welcomed by legions of homely cooks who'd normally shun anything as snazzy as a serrated-edged knife.

Am I missing something? Has everyone else been hoodwinked by some secret slow cooking mind police? Or am I the only one who finds the idea of a little machine simmering silently, stealthily, behind my back, for hours on end just a little bit creepy? I decided to tackle the mystery head on. Let the slow, slow cooking commence.

Planning ahead

I'm a fan of a plan when it comes to food. The 21st century may be a time of impulsive hedonism disappearing under a mountain of non-biodegradable waste but I try to do my best by only buying what I need, using all that I can and recycling the rest. What I'm not a fan of is starting the morning facing a bowl full of raw meat with fingers that stink of garlic.

Slow cooking enthusiast, Charlie Cottrell, will wax lyrical about the beauty of returning from a hard day at work to a house full of a home-cooking aroma, sitting down to a delicious meal that's been allowed to develop and infuse throughout the day. And I get it, I really do. But the flip side of that is you have to prepare the constituent parts behind that aroma - in this case, beef steak and garlic - before you board the train for work at 8am.

And it's not just chopping. Meat has to be 'browned', onions have to be 'softened', so not only have I run out of time to wash my hair before I have to leave but I've also managed to dirty a sink full of dishes, that will sit stagnantly awaiting my return. Brilliant - crap hair, smelly fingers and to top it all off, I'm late.

Feeding an army, or not

My second grumble is about amounts. I used one of the recipe suggestions in the slow cooker handbook: mushroom stroganoff; sounds delicious. The recipe says it serves 4-6 people but a quick glance down the ingredient list reveals, among other things, a litre of cream and kilo of mushrooms. I'm not feeding an army! My housemates might have big appetites but even they'd struggle to chow down on a field's worth of fungus. The manual recommends only using the cooker when it's at least half full so there's no way of trimming the portions - looks like it's stroganoff again tomorrow then. Oh, and before Charlie starts, I know I can freeze the rest, and I can't stress enough how much I value my freezer. But, there's something not quite right about buying far more ingredients than you need and cooking more than you want to eat - just to use this 'labour saving' device.

Timing trouble

So after you've chopped your mountain of mushrooms and browned half a cow it's time to set the timer. And here's where I really began to lose it. I thought the whole point of slow cooking was to pop it on before you head out for the day and your dinner would be ready on your return. Yet, in the slow cooking recipe book most of the recipes are for eight hours or less, four to five hours in most cases. A four hour day? I wish. And remarkably there was no timer I could pre-set to come on in my absence. What do I do, leave it bubbling all day to and risk ruining my food? Or leave it to go cold and congeal and then reheat it on my return? Surely that misses the point. In the end I arranged for my housemate to make it home for 5pm and switch the thing on so we could all eat at 9pm. Somehow, I'm still not seeing the convenience factor.

A fuller flavour

OK, so when it comes to taste I have to admit, it's got me. The casserole, especially, was jam-packed with flavour and the meat melted in my mouth. But as one of my guests (those massive portion demands have made me a very philanthropic cook this week) pointed out, the stew had that full bodied flavour of leftovers the day after. Would it have been just as easy to cook my meal the night before? Finally, there's the seasoning. Throwing it all in at once means you miss out on the delicate and rewarding process of tasting and seasoning. Those extra spoonfuls snaffled over the cooking pot while you 'check the seasoning' are surely every chef's privilege?

Final thoughts

I know I've been a little free and easy with my criticism and most of my moaning should be taken tongue in cheek. The model I used was very stylish to look at and remarkably easy to clean. And as a labour saving device for certain occasions - a Sunday afternoon out walking for instance, or certain lifestyles, say a busy mum with lots of mouths to feed and flexible working hours - I highly recommend it. But for me, with my long hours, lack of dependents and inability to function in the morning, it just wasn't a winner. I may have to come home late and then get cooking but sometimes chopping carrots with a glass of wine is the only way to unwind.

If slow cooking makes you yawn, do it the old fashioned way with these tasty hob-cooked recipes:
Lentil and sausage stew
Jamie's mushroom and venison stroganoff
Chicken stew with parsnips and sage
Red beef stew

Hannah cooked with the Meyer Prestige 4.5Litre Slow Cooker

Slow cooking: pain or pleasure? Let us know in the user comments below

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