Happy design, happy toaster


“Brave Lil Toaster,” by CyprusBeetle. (deviantart.com)

We are all critics of product design. Recently our toaster bit the dust and we bought a new one. Our old Cuisinart gave way to a shiny new Hamilton Beach. But we soon realized that our bagels were no longer tasty. Or so it seemed. We asked Eastside Marketplace whether they had changed bagel brands; no, they had not. Could a pair of different toaster brands really toast bagels so differently? Finally, we went on eBay and sent away for a “factory reconditioned” version of our original Cuisinart.


This morning, after it came by post, I rushed out to get bagels, returned to toast one in the new toaster, spread the cream cheese and ate the result. It was delicious, entirely superior to the Hamilton Beach bagels, which had seemed dull and heavy, as if they’d been toasted in a cardboard box factory. The Cuisinart bagel was crisp and cheery, with a rich bagel smell.

The Cuisinart toaster is a chubby white machine with soft edges that seems to smile at us from the counter. The Hamilton Beach was made of reflective silvery steel. It seemed to revel in its bogus functionality. It didn’t even offer a numerical “brown” meter, as the Cuisinart did. The toasters’ personalities were diametrically opposed. You could tell just by looking at them.


So what were the product design boys up to here? It would be just as easy to manufacture a toaster that looked friendly but acted badly. It’s hard to say that the inviting toaster was more likely than the uninviting toaster to do a better job toasting bagels. After all, to have bagel halves jammed into you, and to get all hot and bothered without being allowed to eat them, is a dirty job – and thankless to boot. One might equally imagine that a nasty-looking toaster looks nasty because it has a dirty job to do, works hard at its job, and understandably frowns at the sweaty labor involved.

It is also not hard – certainly not for me – to put a pro-traditional, anti-modernist spin on this entire affair. Just like architecture, we experience product design day in and day out. And so we trust our ability to judge good and bad design. But isn’t the taste of a bagel a matter of … well … of taste? I throw up my hands and scurry back to my architectural watchtower.

About David Brussat

This blog was begun in 2009 as a feature of the Providence Journal, where I was on the editorial board and wrote a weekly column of architecture criticism for three decades. Architecture Here and There fights the style wars for classical architecture and against modern architecture, no holds barred. History Press asked me to write and in August 2017 published my first book, "Lost Providence." I am now writing my second book. My freelance writing on architecture and other topics addresses issues of design and culture locally and globally. I am a member of the board of the New England chapter of the Institute of Classical Architecture & Art, which bestowed an Arthur Ross Award on me in 2002. I work from Providence, R.I., where I live with my wife Victoria, my son Billy and our cat Gato. If you would like to employ my writing and editing to improve your work, please email me at my consultancy, dbrussat@gmail.com, or call 401.351.0457. Testimonial: "Your work is so wonderful - you now enter my mind and write what I would have written." - Nikos Salingaros, mathematician at the University of Texas, architectural theorist and author of many books.
This entry was posted in Architecture, Art and design, Humor and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Happy design, happy toaster

  1. I wonder if the new toaster came with some artifacts of the manufacturing process that was slowly burning off into your bagels?


  2. Stephen ORourke says:

    Damn….now I want a bagel.

    Sent from my iPad



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.