Earlier this year, I bought my mother-in-law in Malaysia a brand-new, top-of-the-line Cuckoo IH pressure rice cooker. She was thrilled. The irony? The rice cooker my wife and I use every day is an old workhorse I’ve kept running for years with my own two hands.
This isn't a story about being cheap. It's a story about value, memory, and the surprising journey of a Korean brand.
The Global Rise of a Korean Kitchen King
On a recent trip to Malaysia, I was shocked to see a massive Cuckoo billboard on the highway to the airport. Twenty years ago, on my first backpacking trip here, the star of the show was a Samsung flip phone. Today, it's a rice cooker. It seems Cuckoo has become a true global status symbol. It explains why they cost a fortune here compared to Korea, and why my mother-in-law was so happy with her gift.
This global fame is what makes the story of my own old cooker even more interesting. It's a relic from a different era, a machine with a story. A story that began with a single, cryptic error message.
A Flashback: The Dreaded "E-t" Error and a Technician's Diagnosis
A few years ago, my trusty Cuckoo cooker died, displaying the infamous "E-t" error. As a self-proclaimed "clumsy technician," I had a few suspicions. The first step was to open it up and find the culprit.
After removing the back panel, the problem was immediately obvious, hiding in plain sight. A single wire was dangling, almost completely severed.
To get a better look and perform the repair, I had to disassemble the entire lid assembly. A closer look confirmed my initial diagnosis: the wire connected to the bimetal switch had snapped.
The Repair: More Than Just a Fix, It's an Improvement
The fix itself is simple in theory: reconnect the broken wire. I won't go into the basics of soldering, but I made sure to create a solid connection and then insulated it with heat-shrink tubing for safety and durability.
But this is where my technician's obsession kicks in. I don't just fix things; I try to make them better. I noticed the plastic channel where the wire sits had some sharp edges that likely caused the break in the first place.
So, I added another piece of heat-shrink tubing to the channel itself, creating a smoother, safer path for the wire. It’s a small detail, but it's the difference between a quick fix and a lasting repair.
Of course, while I had it all apart, I took the opportunity to clean all the hidden, grimy parts of the cooker. After a thorough cleaning and careful reassembly—paying close attention to the hinge area to avoid pinching any wires—it was time for the moment of truth.
The Never-Ending Story: A Wife's Plea for an Upgrade
I plugged it in. The "E-t" error was gone. The rice cooker was back from the dead.
That repair was years ago. The cooker is still working perfectly today, though I've had to replace the inner pot. It has become a testament to the power of good engineering and careful repair.
But I'm not sure my wife sees it that way.
I think, deep down, she dislikes the fact that I keep fixing this old machine. Every time I successfully bring it back to life, I can see a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. She probably just wants a new, shiny one like her mother's. Hahaha.
The Artisan's Dilemma
This leaves me with a classic tinkerer's dilemma. Is it better to embrace the convenience of a brand-new, feature-packed model? Or is there a deeper satisfaction in keeping a trusted old machine running with your own hands, knowing its every quirk and every repair?
For now, this old soldier remains on our kitchen counter. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the things we fix are the things that hold the most value.
