We received a KitchenAid mixer as a wedding present from Chris’ parents almost twenty years ago. As an avid baker, I use the mixer frequently – several times a week, usually. Countless batches of cookies, cakes, breads, candy, whipped cream, and butter have been beaten into submission in the KitchenAid. We’ve used it, with attachments, to grate cheese, grind meat, and de-seed berries for jam. Through all, it has been a real trooper and only lately has it developed a bit of a wobble in the hinge, which is probably easily remedied. Gotta remember to check that.
Anyway: during our kitchen remodel we moved all appliances to the dining room and I was sorely missing my KitchenAid. When the happy day came to put the appliances back, I noticed that the mixer was sticking to the new counter. The little rubber feet were leaving marks behind, too. I flipped the mixer over and saw the saddest sight: five old feet that had given up and collapsed under the weight of batters and time. Cracked, flared, and sticky from age, the feet needed to be replaced. The ones at the front were particularly worn out, as they bore the brunt of the weight.
I promptly went online and started looking for replacements and was just as quickly disappointed in the price tag: $3-$4 per foot. Twenty bucks was not an outrageous sum of money to bring my trusty friend back into proper working order, but still I hesitated. A quick trip over to Amazon to compare prices, and I found a listing with two comments. I love comments on Amazon. One of the comments was positive, something along the lines of “these feet were perfect”. The second comment had a low rating and said, “never pay for feet – KitchenAid will replace them for free!”
Quicker than a cat out of water, I emailed a KitchenAid customer service rep and inquired about replacement feet. I got an email back the next day asking for the serial number on my mixer. I looked in vain; the sticker is long gone and my hopes sank. Until, that is, she replied that she would “just send feet for mixers made prior to 2004.”
I waited with some trepidation. Few things in life are free. Would I really get all five? Would they arrive with a bill to pay for shipping? Would they even be the right ones?
A couple weeks later I arrived home from work to find five plastic envelopes, each containing one new foot.
I gladly overlooked the gross inefficiency, waste in packaging, excess postage cost, warehouse failure, and general poor business practices of sending one foot in one envelope in light of the five new, perky, bouncy, non-sticky, FREE feet that my KitchenAid so desperately needed.
It now stands proudly on the counter, ready to serve. Yesterday we made cookies, my KitchenAid and I. They are delicious.