Rotisserie cooking is a venerable and ancient way to cook a piece of meat. Julia Child describes a leg of lamb she encountered as it turned hanging on a string from the fireplace mantle in front of a bright fire. Every now and then a waiter would pass by and give it a little twist to keep it turning and when ordered, thin slices would be cut onto the plate from the hanging leg. Meat turning on an open fire - that's cooking it. I would love to try that string method, but lack the appropriate fireplace and mantle.
    
    Some years ago a popular wedding present was the Farberware Smokeless Electric Open Hearth. It is an un-enclosed countertop rotisserie and I have two of them. My first one was given to me in 1977 by an old friend who had received it as a wedding present; she had decided that since she had never used the thing it had no claim to the top of her kitchen cabinet in her vintage upper west side apartment. I know they were popular wedding presents because the things showed up in yard and garage sales in unopened boxes in great numbers for many years.

    Even though I had the one I noticed that they were disappearing from the stores and even garage sales so when I found another one I bought it. I was hoarding – and a good thing, too, because Farberware quit making them. To make matters worse, Farberware, over time, changed the design of some of the pieces so that crucial parts – the motor and the stanchions – are not interchangeable between my two.

    My devices are strictly single spit roasters but Farberware made an accessory that had a five or six piece ka-bob set. I never used one of those and didn’t even know they existed until a couple of hours ago when I checked e-bay for this piece. Farberware also promoted the thing as an indoor grill. I tried grilling a couple of times when desperate to be outdoors. It cooked the food, but no one would have called it grilled. The contraptions are still found on e-bay, but they have mostly gone the way of Belgium Waffle Irons and hot dog aspics in todays world.
        
    It’s a shame, really, because they are fun to cook on – only in rotisserie mode, mind - and make for much kitchen conversation as a honking big piece of meat or poultry revolves slowly above the electric coils putting out nice smells and sputtering from time to time. Fat drips from the meat into a pan below, but plenty rolls around the food and bastes it. If more basting is required a bulb baster is the way to go. This tool provides some fun with sunspot-like flare-ups from the heating coil and an opportunity to spill hot fat down your leg, but it is sometimes necessary to baste.

    The rotisserie takes about the same amount of time to cook a roast as the oven does; maybe a little longer. I cannot say that food cooked on a rotisserie tastes radically different from the oven, but it does seem more like a ‘roast’ and less like a bake. It’s also easy to add seasonings to the food because it is just out there in the open. It makes a cold kitchen pleasantly warm and is a nice focal point for the whole kitchen circus.

    I used to  bring them out only for feast day entertaining to dress up the kitchen with roasting meat, but it has been a great tool to have since my oven has been more or less out of commission for three plus months. If I were a baker I would have starved, but the rotisserie has done fine work and kept us well nourished.    

    It takes up lots of counter space; about 12” – 13” deep and 18” to 20” long with the spit and motor hanging out further from each end. I store the displaced items in my non-working oven when I have it on the counter.  Washing it up takes some time, but if we kept our ovens as clean as one is compelled to keep this, we would spend plenty of time on the clean cycle.