Another great find at the swap meet! Before we unexpectedly became the owners of the wood/electric cookstove, I came across this great item at the swap meet for $20.00. It sits on top of your wood heat stove and turns it into an oven! They still make these, and I have seen them in one of the catalogs we receive for over $100.00! I snatched it up, foreseeing a plate of warm scones to go with our percolator coffee the next time the power is out.
There is no identifying information on this little oven to help me figure out where or when it was made or what it might really be worth. I have seen a few more just like it online, but the people selling them know no more than I do. What matters is that it works.
Our heat stove doesn’t quite have enough room on top for the oven, so it hangs over the front a few inches. As it turns out, this works out great – if the oven just sat directly on top of our stove it would never heat up enough to bake anything. This is because there is a gap between the top of our firebox (where you actually burn the wood) and the top of the stove (where you set the stove-top oven) to allow more heat out into the room and make it a little harder for people to burn the crap out of themselves. However, because there is hot air pouring out of this gap (by design) Matt quickly figured out that all he had to do was make a tin foil apron that directs this hot air out of the gap and up into the overhanging oven. Voila!
The first time we tested the little oven we baked a single Bisquick® biscuit in a ramekin (because we don’t yet have any tiny little baking pans for the oven) and it came out quite nice. When I was baking oatmeal-raisin cookies in the electric oven on Sunday, Matt stole a few spoonfuls of dough and baked them in the stove-top oven on a “baking sheet” made from the recently-removed lid of a large tin coffee can. It took only a minute or two longer than my cookies in the kitchen did. I understand that he had great success, but I have to take his word for it, because by the time I got there, all that was left of the cookies was a small archipelago of oaty crumbs floating in the last tablespoon of Matt’s glass of milk.