Fred Cutting Board

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 1 out of 5
Yeah, but: Funny, yes.

The Long Version: Sometimes you might as well just write my name on something. Penny bought me this after she caught me measuring the carrot sticks – I wanted to ensure that I cut the celery to the same size. After all, I don't want one settling to the bottom of the container when I'm packing my lunch. This cutting board has half-inch grid lines set into the wood, where they won't be removed until the surface has seen a fair bit of use.

Given my rather limited culinary skills, having the ruled lines has actually turned out to be somewhat practical, even though I don't use them most of the time. I rarely cut square to the board, and amusingly, the large photo on the back of the package shows exactly the same thing: someone cutting at an angle, making no use of the markings that set it apart.

After only a couple of uses, the Fred cutting board has warped slightly and started to split. It's perfectly usable still, but perhaps it isn't expected to be a hard-use culinary tool or an heirloom. I suppose that makes it an adult novelty product, and it's about time I owned one of those.

Time will tell if this becomes my main cutting board or not; at 9"x12" it's a little smaller than the plastic one that I like. I'll update this review in a few months when I have a better idea of how well it will hold together.

One thing that I do have an issue with is the "OCD Chef" name. I dislike pop psychiatry even more than I dislike pop psychology, and the coloquial trivialization of mental illness just isn't something to be proud of. Careful, methodical, perfectionist, precise: it's not hard to think of other names that would actually suit the product better than the one that they chose.

So in the end we have something that I'm conflicted about. It's amusing but needlessly offensive, useful but with questionable longevity. That makes it pretty typical for the company that markets fridge magnets that look like chewed gum – it's just too bad that children can't choose their parents. The idea is better than this.

last updated 6 jan 2012

Umbra Saddle Sink Caddy

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 1 out of 5
Yeah, but: No matter where you put it, there it is.

The Long Version: It seems like a really good idea. The Umbra saddle sink caddy is designed to go across the centre of a twin sink, with a compartment on both sides to hold sponges, scouring pads, and similar. It comes in different colours, but I picked a dark one – "smoke" – that would look the least grungy the longest. (White is also available for those who want the opposite effect.) Realistically there's not much chance that a silicone spongebra will add to the decor, no matter how cute it is in the store, so I wish I'd picked the red one just because it looks like it has more fun.

The problems with my sink caddy started very quickly. The saddle doesn't straddle my sink very elegantly, leading to a bulky fit that takes up more room than it should. Next I discovered just how much I use the dividing wall between the sinks, for everything from bracing cooking sheets to balancing the big 4L water-filter jug. And when I actually use the sink for dishes and cooking, the sponge caddy blocks a surprising amount of it. All this I could live with, even though I often end up having to move the caddy to one side or just drop it into the half of the sink that I'm not using. The biggest problem is that the Umbra caddy keeps sponges wet for a remarkably long time.

Each side of the sink caddy has four dainty little drainage holes, which serve to let most of the water out when it gets flooded by the faucet, but aren't enough to let it drain completely or allow proper air flow. So instead of keeping my kitchen organized, the Umbra sink saddle leaves me with chronically damp sponges sitting in a holder that's inevitably in the way. I have to admit that I was hoping for more than that from this simple little thing. Umbra usually does a very good job with product design, but this one just doesn't do it for me.

last updated 24 may 2011

Slice™ Safety Cutter

Concept:  3 out of 5
Execution:  4 out of 5
Yeah, but:  I want to scatter them around the house.

The Long Version: The Slice seems to be a mk2 version of the iSlice that Keith reviewed back in March of 2009. His review made quite an impression, so when I found this one in a local store for $6, I picked it up. It turns out that there have been a few changes over the past couple of years.

The best news is that they've dropped the iMitate name and picked up some style points with the new logomark. The opaque plastic has a matte finish that's easy to hold, they've added a lanyard / keyring hole, and the narrow end is still magnetic.

The best part of the Slice's design is that it's no bigger than it needs to be. There's an elegance to that that's rarely seen these days. The tiny ceramic tooth cuts through only one or two layers of paper, but it's too short to draw blood or open plastic bags of frozen vegetables. The impulse is to act as if it cuts like a knife, but instead it needs to be held horizontally and drawn across the surface. Watch out at the end of the cut, though, because it can put a little divot in a plastic or wooden countertop.

The Slice is a perfect solution for one minor but vexing problem that I have. The film for medium format cameras comes in lightproof plastic wrappers that are surprisingly hard to open bare-handed. The Slice Safety Cutter makes short work of these packets, but it's so inoffensive that it should have no problem getting past a security screening when traveling by air or visiting New York landmarks. It takes up no room in the camera bag and weighs nothing, but it's still easy to find in a hurry. Perfect.

I'll be honest: I bought the Slice because I remembered Keith's review, and thought it was cool. It turns out that it's just as cool in person, and it works exactly the way it's supposed to. It's completely different from other box cutters and 'safety' knives that I've seen; it really works better and it really is safer. Mine now lives on the fridge, and is my tool of choice for dispatching coupons, envelopes, and any other paper that needs to be done away with. I've been tempted to buy another one to keep in my camera bag, or to pick up some of their other products just to round out the family. They're cheap, they work, and they're neat. What more could I ask for?

last updated 4 feb 2011

Life Brand Folding Travel Toothbrush

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 1 out of 5
Yeah, but: Something small and frail and plastic…

The Long Version: Travel toothbrushes are one of those things that inherently compromise function for convenience. Where they fold, whether it's through a hinge or from a two-piece design, is invariably going to be a weak point. Hopefully it won't be so weak that the brush will fold over backwards at the slightest provocation, or completely come apart at the feeble hinge the way this one does. It's also nice when the 'closed' position covers and protects the bristles, rather than leaving some of them splayed out to the side of the handle. This folding toothbrush, marketed under the Life Brand Essential's line by Shopper's Drug Mart, is simply the pits.

There's a reason why the two-piece style, where the brush head inverts and is stored in the hollow lower handle, is so common. It works. This one-piece folding design ranks right around 'better than nothing', so I'll probably leave it in my kit, but I'll be looking for a better one as well. On the other hand, given how easy it is to leave toothbrushes behind, maybe the two-for-one pack of disposable-quality plastic is exactly right. You pay your money and you make your choice.

Honeywell Turbo Fan

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but:The Old Version Was Better, Except For...

The Long Version: After trying different fans over the course of many years in the music business, I started noticing several of my drummer friends using this same model of Honeywell "Air Circulator" with "Turbo Force Power".
It's small and therefore doesn't take up much space onstage or in your vehicle.
(11" high, 7" diameter 3-blade rotor)
The airflow can be adjusted from horizontal to vertical, which is also perfect for stage use.
3 speeds, the highest of which is rather astonishing and must not be pointed towards an open microphone lest you hear some serious wind rumble from your subwoofers and have to buy a windscreen, which won't help much.

I've been a huge fan of this "Air Circulator" for 10 years at least, and have just bought my fourth or 5th one, as seen below on the right:


Going back to the top photo, you'll notice that it's now 25% Quieter.
I agree.
In fact, using my digital decibel meter I came up with the following:
(C-weighted & Slow Response settings, measured 6" behind the fan to eliminate wind noise)

Old Fan:
Slow Speed = 71db
Medium = 73db
High = 76db

New Fan:
Slow = 67db
Medium = 70db
High = 73db

To make this comparison valid it should be noted that the day I brought home the new fan, I disassembled the old one and gave it a good cleaning, including the motor which also got some new lube.
Essentially they are the same age now, or as close as it's possible to make them.
More on this later.

Looking at the db readings, you can see that the new design is quieter at all settings.
Since decibels are a logarithmic scale, and an increase of 10db equals double the perceived volume, "25% Quieter" is a pretty accurate claim.
But is it odd that the new fan's medium speed is the same volume as the older version's slow?
Not really, because the new fan's medium speed puts out the same amount of air as the old one's slow.
Likewise, the new fan's high speed = medium on the older unit.

The new version runs slower, and therefore quieter.
For household use, this is fine.
If you're in a band, work in your garage a lot, or don't have air conditioning, this reduction in power gets a big thumbs down.
When you really need the big blast of wind that used to be found on the highest setting, be advised that it just isn't there anymore


Getting back to having cleaned and lubed my older fan for the decibel test--another feature mentioned on the box is "Removable grille for easy cleaning".
To me, this was always an important feature since I use these fans in our home 24/7, and quite often in smokey bars or on dusty outdoor stages.
When the blades get heavy with nasty stuff that adds weight, they spin slower.
Also, when the grille gets clogged with dust-bunnies and hair the flow is blocked.
Thrice a year I blow out the accumulated dust and gunk with my air compressor (or leaf blower) and every summer I take them apart for a complete cleaning and motor tuneup.
But when I tried to take apart the white(ish) one a few years ago, I discovered a design change had been made.
Two of the six screws that secure the grille had been changed from Phillips head to Allen Security head, so you needed a special (hard to find) hex wrench with a hole in the center to accomodate the security pin!
This fastener is highlighted below, in a chart I found at Intructables:
(click to enlarge)


I remember being furious!
My fan was in desperate need of servicing, and I was locked-out!
So I used a Dremel tool's cutting wheel plus an ExActo knife to completely remove the offending screws and all the surrounding plastic, too!
Security Screw YOU, Honeywell!

It's funny that they now consider this a noteworthy feature when a few years ago their legal counsel decided that it was a liability.
Looks like I wasn't the only one who was offended and angered.
It's a stupid fan, not a Wii.
Only 17.3% of the population is dumb enough to get hurt while opening up a fan to clean it, or so I've heard.


The fan's base has been scalloped front and back, which might make it easier for air to reach a place where it can be circulated, but I'm going to go out on a limb and say that this is to save a few cents per unit on plastic and shipping weight.

There are now two keyholes (vs 1) on the base for mounting the unit on a wall.

Bottom line is that the new black fan is for the house, and the older white one is for work.
I'm going to try and keep it running for as long as possible, to enjoy it's higher velocity airflow.
My suspicion is that the motors are the same and that the only difference is in the high/medium/low switching circuitry, which means that I can hopefully keep the older one blowing harder for years to come.

The fan blades spin clockwise--the CCW spiral grille seems to counter their turbulence which results in very smooth output that can reach long distances.
This small Honeywell Air Circulator's retail price varies from $20 in the springtime to $12 in mid-summer, to as low as $5 at clearance in the early fall.
Larger versions are available, and they offer some incredible airflow.

Method Laundry Detergent

Concept: 4 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but: It's hard make money from affection alone.

The Long Version: Method Laundry Detergent (manf) is one of those instances where the the great idea doesn't depend on the product. What they've done is get rid of the screw-top and cap, and replaced it with a pump that puts out a metered amount of detergent. It didn't go over that well for toothpaste, but it works for laundry soap.

There's an interesting phrase floating around. At the time of writing, Google was returning 112 hits from an exact match search for the phrase: "As highlighted in a recent Wall Street Journal article, Americans continue to overuse laundry detergent." (That article, almost never properly cited, is here.) The tendency for pouring detergent is to use too much, either by over-filling the deceptively large cap-cups or by pouring it directly into the machine. Highly concentrated detergents just make matters worse, since a little bit too much is a lot more than anyone really needs.

While there's nothing stopping the detergent makers from putting pumps on huge half-gallon bottles, Method's using it on a detergent that's so heavily concentrated that they recommend using only four pumps per load. That makes it practical, since the little 300ml bottle is easy to handle but is still rated for 25 loads. Doing the math, that works out to less than a tablespoon each - not nearly enough to be psychologically satisfying when poured, but the little pump makes it alright. And that amount is what the swimming-pool sized top-load washers need; front-load washers use far less water and need far less detergent. My Asko washer-dryer might be a dog, but I've been very happy with only one pump per load.

Another interesting little tidbit from the WSJ article can be found at the end: "Seventh Generation's co-founder, Jeffrey Hollender, wonders why more people haven't stumbled upon laundry's big, dirty secret: "You don't even need soap to wash most loads," he says. The agitation of washing machines often does the job on its own." It's a good question, but I've never felt the desire to test it. I'll just continue to use a tiny little bit of the Method detergent instead.

Electrasol Finish Powerball dishwasher tablets

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: Who names these things?

The Long Version: There are two good things that I can say about this detergent - I haven't had any reason to complain about it, and it got rid of the gunk that the last stuff left. Really, what more can I ask?

The dishwasher detergent itself comes in little rectangular tablets that are designed to be pretty as well as water soluble. They remind me of the fancy striped toothpastes, except that toothpaste doesn't come in individually-portioned plastic packets. While that does give me a bit of an excess-packaging twinge, it's better than having a lumpen mass of unusable detergent that ends up in a landfill. It's still not a great choice overall, so I'll likely look for something else next time, but when I bought them they were the best type available.

But really, "Powerball Finish"? C'mon. I'd love to know how much the macho-male dishwasher detergent market segment is worth. Even the officially-sequenced "Finish Powerball" is still an awfully suggestive name. I'm sure that most everyone will think that I'm reading far too much into this, but there are some mighty clever people working in advertising. When it comes to multi-million-dollar industries, I don't think that much happens by accident. Sex, after all, sells.

Bio-Life Automatic Dishwasher Detergent

Concept: 1 out of 5
Execution: 1 out of 5
Yeah, but: I'm a hard case.

The Long Version: Life Brand is the store line for Shopper's Drug Mart / Pharmaprix, and they have a huge range of products. (One of which I've reviewed before.) Most of them are quite good, offering cheaper alternatives to The Leading National Brands, even if they don't have Dave Nichol shaking in his boots. They've recently branched out with a line called 'Bio-Life', selling more 'eco-friendly' products. They're competing with brands like Method, which is also sold by Shopper's, as well as specialty lines from other stores.

My dishwasher is old, and not particularly great. Things need to be rinsed fairly well before they go in, and the myriad plastic lunch containers never dry properly. That might be relevant to my experience with the Bio-Life detergent - I have a hard time imagining that it would have ever made into circulation if the test labs results were as bad as mine. Every piece of hard-to-dry plastic comes out coated with a mottled white film. It smudges with handing; for these photos I've carefully polished half of it off with a paper towel. It doesn't seem to be left behind on things like plates and glasses, but it's hard for me to have much confidence in the detergent, and I resorted to re-rinsing everything by hand.

The detergent itself comes in little pre-measured doses, wrapped in a water-soluble packet. There is a cautionary note on the container that the bag needs to be kept closed and handled with dry hands. I can attest to both of those in my brief time using the product. The little bundles glom together when exposed to even modest humidity, which makes them easier to stack but harder to use. And the one time I picked up a pack with damp fingers - I hadn't seen the warning yet - I discovered that the wrap does indeed dissolve instantly on contact with water. Not the most user-friendly product I've ever seen, to say the least.

I suppose I don't seem that smart when I say that I actually tried four loads of dishes before I gave up on this stuff. For the last attempt I waited until the dishwasher was finished before running the rinse cycle again, just to make sure. No luck. The good news is that other brands of lower-impact detergent have worked in my machine without any issues, so it's not a problem with the idea, just this one particular product. But no matter who makes it, I won't be buying this style of water-soluble packaging again. Not a big deal, as big deals go, but I'm just a little bit older and wiser now.

Leviton Decora Light Switch

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but: If I stopped to think about everything that's amazing, I'd never move.

The Long Version: Tell me what you think of this design brief: make something that needs to conform to strict dimensional standards, be approved by dozens of national standards boards, will work reliably for tens of thousands of actuations over the course of decades, can cause millions of dollars in damage - or kill people - if it fails, and must be manufactured in the USA so cheaply that even when all of the distributors and resellers have made their cut that it still sells for less than three bucks. Canadian.

Ah, the humble light switch. Not too shabby.

Starfrit Can Crusher

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: I can just see it screwed to one of the bare studs in a garage.

The Long Version: Starfrit is a Canadian company that's making its way into the American market, one infomercial at a time. They're the bilingual force behind battery-powered potato peelers, push-choppers, and folding cutting boards. If it has "as seen on TV" on it, there's a good chance that you'll find in on their website. It's not guaranteed, of course, and I can't find the can crusher at all. Rather anticlimactic after this big introduction.

The can crusher is designed to flatten beverage cans, and does so admirably. Its construction is solid, with a soft foam handle topping a lever that delivers plenty of power. I'm a little tentative applying force to mine, since it's attached to a cupboard door with double-sided tape instead of (the included) screws. But even with that hesitation, it does the job. My only addition has been a couple of rubber bands that I've wrapped around the base to hold the cans in place as they await their fate. Traction, you know.

There is a question about why anyone would want this particular job done. Without reenacting the Frantics' 'Worshipers R Us' scene (again), it's something to have just because it's there. It's fun to use, and the crushed cans do take up less space in the recycling bin. Crushing them by hand isn't as effective or as entertaining. It even includes a built-in bottle opener, just in case there are ever any bottles that don't have screw-tops. I wouldn't recommend running them through the crusher when you're done, though.

Godiva Chocoiste

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: How can I rate something I can't pronounce?

The Long Version: I've liked orange chocolate since my father would bring home Terry's from his trips to England. Dark chocolate is a more recently acquired taste, and not one that everyone shares, but I prefer it because I find I can eat less of it and still be quite happy. So when Penny found these, she naturally thought of me, and brought home a little tin of these chocolates.

The dark chocolate is quite mild, and the orange is really nicely balanced. They're very good; I managed to make the little 43 gram tin last over a week. The small tin actually isn't much more expensive than a 230g bag of dark chocolate M&M's, so while they're definitely indulgent, they don't need to wait for an annual occasion.

I did spend a bit of time trying to find out what, exactly, chocoiste means. The closest I came to finding an answer was that she's a flight attendant who loves to travel, work out, and can sit for hours watching movies. Godiva's website is here.

Three-Way Lamps

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 1 out of 5
Yeah, but: Am I backwards?

The Long Version: Three-way lamps are lights with three distinct brightness levels, either by using three separate bulbs (as above) or by using a special bulb. The multi-bulb lamps will turn on one, two, and then all three; single-bulb lamps light a small filament, larger filament, and then both together.

In all of the lamps that I've ever seen the brightness cycles through low, medium, and high. This is the exact opposite of the way they should work.

When I first turn on a lamp, I do it because I want more light. The three-way responds by going to its dimmest setting. I then have to turn the switch two more times.

There are many times when I'll want less light. Whether reading at the end of the night, or setting a mood over dinner, when I'm finished that activity I want the lights to go out. Instead they go up.

Didn't anyone actually use one of these before putting it into production, and why has nobody created one that works properly?

The iSlice­

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: It works as advertised, and that makes me suspicious

The Long Version: Another Christmas gift that, much like the previously reviewed Open It! household multi-tool, actually works and is worth the price.
I know, I was surprised, too.

But this little gadget really does slice open envelopes and all types of consumer packaging, with no danger of drawing blood.
Perfect for the clumsy people on your gift list.
It's ceramic blade is as sharp as an ExActo knife, but for some reason won't cut skin. I suppose if you really tried you might manage some damage but in my casual testing it's been safe.

The iSlice retails around here for $5US and I have to think that's a fair price.
Especially since the designers went the extra mile and made it harder to lose in a drawer by making the metal point magnetic.
Although shown stuck to our refrigerator (with the crooked logo and Liberace) I keep mine stuck to my desk lamp for instant grab & slice action.

The name bothers me because it's yet another example of the mindless marketing people that ape the latest craze--in this case iPods.
I'm surprised there isn't a toilet tissue called iWipe.
A few years ago everything was Mywhatever due to the MySpace phenomenon.
And in the USA, every political scandal gets the word gate tacked-on the end after the infamous Watergate break-ins of the 1970s.
Travelgate?
Noooo, 'gate' was part of the name of the Watergate hotel, not a suffix that means scandal.
Journalists are a big disappointment because it appears they don't think for themselves. Failed ad copy writers perhaps?

But I digress.

The iSlice works, makes a nice little gift, and is worth the price.
It uses modern ceramic blade technology so supposedly the edge won't get dull.
Today I used it to slice open the plastic wrap on a roll of paper towels and it did the job without cutting into the product, which was a pleasant surprise.
With envelopes I have managed to cut through the first layer of paper inside, but then I don't get much mail and use a switchblade as a letter opener anyway.

I would probably never buy something like this for myself, but having received it as a gift find that I use it often and am impressed every time.

Sony DPF-D70 Digital Picture Frame

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: Its 15:9 aspect ratio matches nothing.

The Long Version: One of the shortfalls of digital photography is that the photos never go anywhere. It was easier to flip through a box of prints from the Olden Days than it is to sort, index, and find digital images - especially when the computer's off. Since I've taken most of the family photos over the past few years, that meant that they were buried in the tens of thousands of photos on my hard drives, and Penny would never see them. The addition of this digital frame has completely fixed that problem, and makes the whole Digital Photography thing much more fun and sociable.

The Sony D70 frame cost more than the other 7" frames on the shelf, but its display was noticeably better than the others at the big-box store. It was also the only frame that supports the Compact Flash memory format - thank you, Minolta, may you rest in peace - which let me re-use some older cards instead of buying a new one. The D70 does have some decent built-in memory, but I find that it's easier to move a card to the frame than the frame to the computer. (I've been using Sneakernet longer than the Internet.) Since the actual size of the photo can be quite small, hundreds of them will fit on a memory card that's far too wee for my cameras to feed, or in the internal memory. All told the small amount of extra money was very well spent.

Being a Sony product, the digital picture frame also has a calendar and clock built in, which look great and work well. There are different slideshow modes, and plenty of options for sequencing and dwell time. The looks of the frame itself will work equally well in an executive office or a modern living room, and it's even possible to shut off the bright-white Sony logo that's lit in the bottom of the frame. Some people might like the tech-bling, but I wouldn't have bought it without the brand-neutered option.

My only real complaint about the DPF is the funky 15:9 aspect ratio. Me being me, I had to re-crop over 400 photos to get them to fill the display. All of the nine digital cameras in the house have 4:3 sensors, and if I crop them I usually recut them to the squarer 8:10 or 11:14 to match my print sizes. I suppose I could go on a rant about Sony's obsession with having a 16:9 ratio crop built into its Cybershot and Alpha cameras, and the hoax of a "Full HD" logo that they put on the camera boxes, but the reality is that pretty much all of the 7" digital frames on the market have the same ratio. It's probably just the best way to get a decently sized LCD panel at a price-point that people will buy. And once I had adjusted my photos, I've actually come to like the abnormally wide ratio.

I like photos, and get pretty serious about them. I had never taken the idea of digital frames seriously, but this Sony has converted me. I bought it for Penny so that she'd have a way to see the personal photos that were somehow never 'worth printing', but would love to have a second one just for my 'artwork'. After all, there's plenty of it that's never worth printing, too.

Coinstar Coin-Counting Machine

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: It's just 9.8 bucks on the hun.


The Long Version: When I was growing up in suburban Toronto, I was always surprised to see the occasional Poverty Mart cheque-cashing places dotted around downtown - companies that charge about 3% commission to turn one form of money into another. Times have changed, and now these places are everywhere and have moved on to business models that allow them to go after people who have bank accounts and direct deposit. But the basic idea of charging people to change one form of money into another is too good to go away.

Coinstar has put vending-machine-style coin counters in stores all across Canada, the US, and UK. The American ones can dispense 'gift' cards without the 9.8% charge, but in Canada we're limited to only getting vouchers that can be redeemed at the check-out registers of the grocery stores that they're invariably in. The irony is that the amount of change counted, less 9.8%, is almost never going to work out to an even dollar amount, so after paying money to convert coins to cash, you'll get some back in change.

To use the machines requires some time, effort, and the ability to feed the coins through a narrow little slot. It seems to work on the same principle as the fabulous Sort`N`Bank, except that it's mechanized and makes a lot more noise in the process. The two items actually make a decent pair, since using the Sort`N`Bank (or some other sorting device) is an easy way to make certain that the more valuable coins don't get 9.8% of their value clipped from them. I only dump pennies and nickels, since the effort and time involved in counting, wrapping, and then finding a bank that will accept them simply isn't worth the amount of money that Coinstar charges. I'm not a fan of their business model, but I do have to concede that it serves a purpose.



updated 7 jan 2011:

I've checked a couple of these machines recently, and the rate has gone up to 10.9%. I was quite annoyed - but I paid it anyway. From here on, though, I'll be using my Sort'N'Bank's awesome powers to screen out the dimes, and start spending them along with the quarters. It's still better than rolling them and taking them to the bank, and it still leaves the machine with just the heaviest and lowest-value currency. I just worry about what I'll do with the nickels when the rate hits 14.9%.

Asko WCAM1812 Combination Washer/Dryer

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: -1 out of 5
Yeah, but: Others may have had a better experience. Maybe.

The Long Version: The Asko WCAM1812 is a single unit that combines a washing machine and a ventless dryer. It's a great idea: the plumbing is simple, it doesn't need a special power outlet, and it doesn't need to be vented to the outside. Mine sits in the middle of my apartment, in a place where no other washer/dryer combo can go.

There are a couple of compromises to be made with the Asko, or any combination unit, that need to be said up-front. For one thing, it's much smaller. While the drum is about the size of an ordinary front-load washing machine, its effective capacity is less than half of that because it needs the empty space to tumble the clothes when they're drying. In a household of two people, this unit probably runs five or six loads in an average week. If you're considering buying any combination washer-dryer and may have children some day, then you'll have to rethink one of those plans.

Compromise #2 is that this single washer-dryer is slower than two separate units. The dryer in particular takes longer, and because it's one machine it's not possible to start the second wash while the first one is in the dryer. On the other hand, this means that it can do its thing without supervision, so it's possible to start a load in the morning or at night and come back to it when it's done. Or at the very least, when it's almost done.

And this brings me to quirk #3. The clothes wrinkle from the small drum, and there seems to be no way to prevent it. Clothes do not come out fluffy, crisp, and warm. Instead they come out wrinkled, damp, and very hot. The best strategy is to get them close enough that they'll be dry and fairly wrinkle-free by the time they're hung up in the closet. With some experience, it's possible to tell the difference between 'wet' and 'damp'. But let them sit and they'll never recover, requiring a 40-minute 'fluffing' run through the dry cycle to get them warm again. And even then ironing is probably going to be needed for anything that can't show a little character.

Don't get clever and run the dryer long enough to force your clothes to dry. It doesn't work - I can have something come out scorched from the heat and still be damp. And don't get too complacent about the heat of the dryer, either. It can leave clothes too hot to touch, and I frequently have to wait for the steam to clear even after the dryer's safety delay has released the door. Forget about that nice feeling of pulling on something comfy straight from the dryer - it just doesn't happen that way.

But all told, it's better than having to use my buildings' communal laundry rooms, even though it astonishes me to get an entire weeks' worth of clothes cleaned in an hour and a half. And this isn't a case of me needing to try the alternative to write a well-rounded review, either. I've had ample chances to compare the two laundry options since my Asko has broken down so often.

When it was first delivered, the belt had come off of the blower that moves hot air into the drum while drying. It took a while to realize that there was something wrong - after all, it did warm up, people had warned us how much longer the drying would take, and not to expect crisp fluffy clothes. But no, it was broken, and this turned out to be a recurring problem. This unit had four or five service calls because it stopped drying, always resulting in scorched-smelling clothes that were plenty wet. Changing the belt and all of the pulleys made no difference. It was eventually resolved - I think - by an enterprising technician who spotted and fixed a misaligned shaft that was - we hope - the source of all of the trouble. (Incidentally, Kampen Appliance Service was great, and I'm happy to have them on my speed-dial.) The only other trouble that this particular unit had was a tear in the door boot that caused a small leak. It's something that never happens, which means it took forever to get a spare part, and the new one had a drain in it that the old one didn't. I don't know if that's an upgrade or a bug-fix, but it does work better now.

So overall, I have mixed feelings about this Asko washer-dryer thing. If I had an option to get a traditional front-load washer and separate dryer, I would without hesitation. However, since that's not possible, I'd rather have the combined machine than have to leave the house, even if it's just to go down the hall in my slippers. But when this one finally dies - probably right after the warranty expires - I won't be replacing it with another Asko unless the things I read get much, much better.


Updated May 2011: The Asko washer-dryer has had a host of issues since I originally wrote this. Some of the electronics went bad, meaning that the washer would occasionally wash forever (or dry forever) as it would keep resetting itself. There would be a subtle but distinctive 'click' when it did this, and the solution was to turn the power off, wait for it to actually stop – typically a matter of several minutes – turn the dial to 'off', open the door, turn the power back on, and wait for it to reset itself. Other times it would start running on cycles that it wasn't set to, such as when I wanted to run the dryer for another 40 minutes but it would start on the "rinse" cycle instead. The final in-warranty service call was to get this fixed, and after replacing a bunch of parts, nothing changed.

One of the big mistakes I made with the WCAM1812 was to paint the kitchen. I needed to move it out of its cubby to be able to paint behind it, and that just made it angry. Now it has an intermittent but LOUD rattling noise in each stage of the wash-dry process. The actual results aren't affected, but there's occasionally a warm rubber smell and it's impossible to hear the TV. Running the wash overnight is now a thing of the past – at least until it has a couple of out-of-warranty service calls behind it.

On the other hand, it is still struggling along, meaning that it has outlived its warranty period. I suppose that means it exceeded my expectations.


Updated July 2011: The loud rattling turned out to be that the impeller had come away from the drive shaft of the drain pump, a small part that only cost a couple hundred dollars' to replace. The next day – absolutely literally – the thing stopped working. The water would run straight through the washer, never stopping, never filling. Additionally, the control panel stopped lighting up, and the usual tricks to reset the machine stopped working. When the technician took the top off of the machine, the control board had small scorch marks around one component, and a huge scorch mark around another component that has partially melted.

This is the same panel that was replaced under warranty fourteen months earlier.

While the technician was checking out the machine he asked if it was having problems drying. The truth is it's hard to tell the difference between malfunctioning and normal operation, and since it had been making so much noise we'd just become used to hanging up the still-damp clothes to dry in our dining room. But the point is that the tech spotted that our blower/fan unit had seized, and would also need to be replaced. So in addition to the hundreds of dollars that the thing cost us last week, the cost of having these parts replaced will almost certainly write off the washer/dryer.

Four years and it's garbage. I have shoes older than that.


Updated September 2011: My Asko washer-dryer is back in service. Following the advice of the technician who diagnosed the problem, I called Asko North America and asked for the pending service to be covered as a warranty repair. I had to send in the work order that detailed the parts needed – thankfully I have a flat-bed scanner – and it took a little while, but I have to say that the Asko Complaints Dept seems pretty well-rehearsed. I took on the Disappointed and Long-Suffering tone with my emails, and never had to escalate beyond that. So the most recent round of repairs was covered for parts and labour, and eventually they also refunded the cost of the parts (but not labour) to replace the drain pump that disassembled itself.

The control board, which is the charred item pictured above, cost better than $500. This washing machine is now on its third one in five years. But apparently they're not common items, as it still took about a month for it to arrive and complete my service call. I'm lucky that my condo also has communal laundry machines, so spending more than a month without my Asko isn't as bad as it could be, but those machines still cost $3.75 a load. I didn't even bother to ask for that back.

But wait, there's more! My WCAM1812 also needed a new air duct cover to replace the one that had clogged with lint, which is typical for these machines. So even if a WCAM1812 doesn't have some sort of acute failure, it will gradually lose its drying effectiveness and need a service call with a $160+ part to bring it back to its original performance. The good news is that my dryer now works just as well as it did when the machine was new. That's a qualified victory, to be sure, but a noticeable improvement none the less.

I've finally dropped the "Execution" rating from "1" to "0" I'm not sure why it took me so long to do that.


Updated May 2012: Shortly after the new control electronics were installed – read: replaced for the second time – the washer went back to its infinite-run trick. We've discovered that it only happens when we adjust the cycle settings or drying time while the unit is on, which makes the situation somewhat manageable. If we forget, the reset routine is written on a post-it note on the side of the machine:

Power off. Wait for door to unlock. Open door.
Turn cycle selector to "Stop". Wait at least five minutes.
Power on:
- If "start" and cycle lights flash, power off and wait again.
- If start light is solid and control dial can select new cycles, the machine is ready.
Power off. Close door. Turn selector to desired cycle.
Power on. Press start.

Oh, and the dryer is back to being essentially useless again. There's nothing specifically "wrong" this time – no burning smell, scorched clothes, or horrendous noise – so we just live with it. When the Asko's short and troubled life finally does come to an end, it will just be replaced by a front-load washing machine, so always having a drying rack out is good practice.


Updated November 2013: Actually not much to report this time; the machine stumbles on. We still don't use the dryer, and while the control electronics are skittish enough that we always verify that it will run the program that it has been set to, it still works about as well as it ever has.

Updated September 2017: That took way longer than I expected, but it finally happened. This is all that's left of this horrible, horrible machine.

The Asko stumbled on for years, never working well, but not so badly broken that it acutely needed to be replaced. That's the worst of both worlds. The frequently-replaced control board remained a chronic problem, making it difficult to select cycles, and even when it did the cycle it was told, it would often fail partway through and just stop. Similarly, the dryer would want to run even when its time was set to zero, so we'd leave that dial pointing to twenty minutes lest it run forever. The good news is that the heat function had broken years ago, so there was no danger of scorching the entire load, which is what happened when it was "working".

Amazingly, what finally killed it was mechanical, not electronic. The drum rollers must have disintegrated, because the drum couldn't spin without sounding like it was trying to tumble cinder blocks. And it would barely spin at the same time: sound and fury, drying nothing. So it was in the back of the junk removal truck without ceremony – I didn't even take any goodbye photos of it. The photo above is the door from the detergent dispenser, which had broken off ages ago and was left behind in the excitement.

My WCAM1812's replacement is a small and relatively inexpensive front-load washer. Despite having a drum that's two-thirds the size, according to the various manufacturer data, it holds far more. It get everything cleaner, and it takes half as long to do a load of laundry, leaving it drier out of the wash than the washer-dryer Asko could. It's even happy to do it. And needless to say, it's not made by Asko.

Sort N Bank coin sorter

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: Every home can use one. It makes a great gift.

The Long Version: I have to admit that this is an embarrassing review to write. It's even more embarrassing that this is something that I've only owned for about a week; this is the sort of product that looks like a forlorn fugitive from the `80's and should have fallen out of a box while I was cleaning up the garage. But no, I bought it from a massive office supply chain that won't even condescend to list the Sort`N Bank on its website, for the low-low price of $16 - and change. Naturally.

The Sort'N' half works, but the Bank part is problematic. It doesn't have a massive capacity; lots of coins will choke the screens and need to be cleared away. I had hopes that this would become an easy storage place for all of the change that I accumulate, but it's not up to that task. I guess Sort N Put The Coins Somewhere Else wasn't as catchy a name. Or perhaps the trademarkable abbrevation is supposed to be short for 'SortING Bank', not "Sort AND Bank'. If only the inventor had included his Hotmail address on the product so that I could resolve this mystery.

The amount of change in these photos is about all the trays can handle without being completely clogged, but smaller amounts are sorted easily. It's great at sorting the wheat from the chaff when I empty out my pockets, leaving the valuable stuff on top for easy re-use and sending the lesser denominations to the bottom for recycling or landfill. Just don't toss the change down with a flourish: the trays are a little bouncy, ruining the dramatic effect of the gesture.

Using screens to sort items according to size isn't a new idea. What US Patent 359832 details is an ornamental coin basket with no claims about a sorting ability. And it is decent desk-candy, provided you have room beside your pin-art and Newton's clicking balls. Just tell yourself that its occasional need to be picked up and shaken vigorously is a substitute for dusting.

...But wait, there's more!

The "As Seen On TV" sticker does not disappoint. The TV spot for the Sort N Bank is classic cheese, and is not to be missed. (I'd like you to see that again.) The ad fails to highlight one of the reasons to own this product - instruction step #2 is "Shake Unit" - but the voice-over and hand model is a woman, and Penny tells me that that's a joke that only guys find funny. But since the Sort'N Bank is something that can only be purchased and used with a certain level of tongue-in-cheek irony, I'm not about to apologize when my sense of humour turns juvenile.

I love the internet.

But wait, there's still more (updated June 2009): The biggest weakness in the design of the Sort'n'Bank is that the tray to screen the pennies from the dimes is at the smallest end of the inverted pyramid. It has the lowest capacity, but pennies are very common; the holes to sort out the dimes need to be nearly the same size as pennies, so they clog very easily. My solution has been to use the Sort'n'Bank without the bottom tray, so that pennies and dimes fall to the bottom, and then use a magnet to separate them later. Leave the magnet in the bottom and most of the sorting will already be done. It's like magic.

The only catch is that some of the recent Canadian pennies are made from steel instead of copper, so they need to be separated from the dimes by hand. Still, it mostly works. And since the metal value in a copper penny exceed its face value, maybe it's not such a bad distinction to make.