There's a hood for every cooker...
I didn't think it would ever happen.
I don't get cooker hoods anyway - why not just open the window? My mum fed all six of us hungry mouths without having to go anywhere near one of these, and yes, her kitchen was never grimy or constantly steamed up - and at least we could talk to each other at a normal noise level while she was slaving away.
Nevertheless, the prospect of not having big chunky lumps of soot and brick fall into our food through the yet-to-be closed up chimney was making me partial to the idea of installing the cooker hood that we'd bought ages ago, and which was sitting unloved in its cardboard box up in bedroom 2 (aka 'the dump').
It took three guys and me to complete the task:
1) Carl Rimes (Woodstock Carpentry and Decoration in Hertfordshire) to put in the plasterboard and the cooker hood fixings.
2) George, the good looking electrician (and former neighbour) to connect it all to the correct cables without setting the house on fire.
3) The OH, providing moral support.
4) After I plastered the sides (I can do it all now, one-coat plaster, lime putty, cement mortar, latex screed, you name it and bring it on), we can now have light at the back of the cooker.
This means you now see the mucky grates and wall. Hmmm, I guess we now have to clean more and then tile behind the cooker next. "Thanks David!"
It's a Bosch DHU 625 and it seems okay, so far, but then I'm no friend of cooker hoods (as you know). For what it's worth, I might go for lower-powered bulbs, as it's a little bright - it's a hob, not an operating theatre! But then, with all that stainless steel - one might confuse the two...
Quite like the look of it now actually... thanks, David.
I don't get cooker hoods anyway - why not just open the window? My mum fed all six of us hungry mouths without having to go anywhere near one of these, and yes, her kitchen was never grimy or constantly steamed up - and at least we could talk to each other at a normal noise level while she was slaving away.
Nevertheless, the prospect of not having big chunky lumps of soot and brick fall into our food through the yet-to-be closed up chimney was making me partial to the idea of installing the cooker hood that we'd bought ages ago, and which was sitting unloved in its cardboard box up in bedroom 2 (aka 'the dump').
It took three guys and me to complete the task:
1) Carl Rimes (Woodstock Carpentry and Decoration in Hertfordshire) to put in the plasterboard and the cooker hood fixings.
2) George, the good looking electrician (and former neighbour) to connect it all to the correct cables without setting the house on fire.
3) The OH, providing moral support.
4) After I plastered the sides (I can do it all now, one-coat plaster, lime putty, cement mortar, latex screed, you name it and bring it on), we can now have light at the back of the cooker.
This means you now see the mucky grates and wall. Hmmm, I guess we now have to clean more and then tile behind the cooker next. "Thanks David!"
It's a Bosch DHU 625 and it seems okay, so far, but then I'm no friend of cooker hoods (as you know). For what it's worth, I might go for lower-powered bulbs, as it's a little bright - it's a hob, not an operating theatre! But then, with all that stainless steel - one might confuse the two...
Quite like the look of it now actually... thanks, David.
