A CHEF’S TEST: THE AUTOMATIC OVEN

The promise of the June oven, posted prominently on juneoven.com, is nothing short of a miracle: “W “With June, everything you cook comes out how you want it, every time.” I’ve been cookingco professionally for 25 years, and I can tellt you with absolute certainty that this is impossible – and, frankly, it would be incrediblyi boring. But the oven, created by a San Francisco start-up, is impressive: sixs carbon-fibre heating elements get the thingthi up to temperature in no time, and it’s ableab to hold that temperature or switch to a new one quickly. The oven also comes with top-notch accessories, including a durable, easy-to-clean sheet tray, a precise probe ther thermometer, and a built-in digital scale. All veryv cool, and reasonable for R20 000. It’sI a beautiful, impeccably designed ma machine and the interface is flawless. But theth June presents a troubling philosoph philosophical question: is cooking more of an art oro a science? If we assume the latter, will we inadvertently fine-tune the soul outou of our food?

Let me answera this question with a batch of ch chocolate chip cookies. I had already madema a series of fairly successful dishes in t the oven (harissa-rubbed chicken thighs, do done in 14 minutes; roasted sweet potatoes, p properly caramelised; nicely risen chocolate c cakes) and I was generally happy with the r results. The June did all of these jobs faster than any standard oven could. The clean-upcleanwas easy. And the internal camera, w well, that was just good, clean fun. I lovedlove being able to check in on my potatoes whilew watching reruns of Doomsday Preppers.

The cookie test, though, was revealing. My wife, who was making cookies for a meeting, threw half the dough into the June to see how it would compare with cookies made in the big oven. Knowing that 175 degrees is the sweet spot for her dough, she opted out of the June’s programmed chocolate-chip-cookie setting and preheated the oven to 175. (Oddly, the baking presets include only biscuits, pumpkin pie, and chocolate-chip cookies.) The results were disastrous. The cookies over-spread and burned, in effect because the oven knows itself better than we do: the June wanted to bake the cookies at 140. When we put in another batch of dough at the preset temperature, the results were fine, but the cookies were flat and didn’t have the signature nooks and crannies that the ones from the regular oven had.

Should home cooks be encouraged to take themselves out of the equation? Not always. When I made the chicken thighs, the oven and its probe told me that the meat was done and at a safe internal temperature in seven minutes flat. True. But I had to put the thighs under the grill for seven more minutes to crisp the skin – the difference between “your chicken is done” and “your chicken is crispy and delicious”. My best guess is that, with more time together, I would learn the June’s quirks and how to use her to my advantage. She’d learn to crisp my chicken skin while I watch from the living room. We spent only a week together, but I’m convinced that in time, we’d learn to love each other.