Don't try this at home, kids.

I set out on a mission: to find a Crock Pot or off-brand slow cooker at a thrift store. I had my mental list of Places Most Likely To Carry Slow Cookers. I had a pocket full of cash (in case the negotiating bug bit me). I live in Portland, Oregon, the city of thrift, for goodness' sake, where it's cool to tell your friends that you got your hip jacket at the Bins (the Goodwill outlet - how's that for thrift?).

I started at the fabulous Lounge Lizard (SE 13th and Hawthorne), which had a display of retro dinnerware that made me drool. No Crock Pots ("no one has Crock Pots! Try the Salvation Army," she told me), but I checked out the variety of kitschy cookware before settling on a pot that the owner said was an ice bucket but I thought might work in the oven for a nice insulated casserole. Cost: a too-expensive $24, but I paid because I felt guilty about all the photos I'd snapped.

Next I headed to the place I shop for old magazines, Paradise Books (SE 33rd and Hawthorne). They have a variety of random cookware and I quickly found a fun-looking aluminum cooker for either deep-frying or slow cooking. $12 - a bargain, I thought! I wandered around the rest of the store, hoping for a more Crock-flavored buy, but ended up with the cooker and a couple of old Saveur magazines not currently in my collection.

I couldn't pass up checking out the selection next door at House - they rent out space to dozens of sellers and always have a bunch of 50s and 60s kitchenware. That's where I found my beanpot. I was in love, and it was on sale: $12. Must be a conspiracy. I bought that, and an old Better Homes & Gardens "International" cooking book.

I checked out a couple of other places on the way home, finding (but not buying) a real Crock Pot for only $10 at the Village Merchants (SE 33rd and Division). It was much newer, and I somehow assumed that it worked.  I also found a gorgeous 50s casserole cookbook at Lived In Lover (SE 37th and Division). I'd spent all my money and had all kinds of beautiful things!

The next night, I started cooking. First it was the slow cooker, I put that to work after browning my beef for the Coney Island chili. It got ferociously hot, bubbling almost immediately. Yay! It works. I turned it down. It... didn't stop bubbling. I turned it down further, and further, finally discovering the sad truth: there were only two temperatures. High and off. What's more, I have no idea how I'm going to clean that burnt beef off the inside. *sigh*

Well, the bean pot, it must work. It looked practically new, after 41 years. I assembled my ingredients for the baked beans, and plugged it in. And waited.

A half-hour later, I checked the water. Cold. I made sure everything was well-plugged in, and felt a little heat and a hot smell from the plugged-in area. Excellent, it was working. I kept checking the water... cold... still cold... still cold... after 25 minutes I gave up. The very bottom of the pot nearest the plug was warm to the touch. But I'll be darned if I'll wait 50-some hours to cook beans, probably starting an electrical fire in the process.

I put the pot part in the oven and the beans baked wonderfully.

The next night, the electrical bottom of the beanpot went into the Goodwill bag and I vowed to clean the super-hot hotpot and try it just one more time before sending it to the same place. My overpriced ice bucket made a great toy for my eight-month-old, Truman.  He loves taking the lid off and looking inside. Oh, and licking it. *sigh*

My suggestion? Go to your nearest superstore and buy yourself a slow cooker, new. And check out your thrift store for some nice vintage cookbooks - and maybe you'll see my purchases, recycled again, and you can chuckle to yourself as you run like hell.