Buy Now! Putting As-Seen-On-TV Products to the Test
(continued)
One Touch Can Opener
Once again, I can see the appeal of the One Touch Can Opener’s stylish design. A hybrid of those clunky old ’50s-era electric can openers and a modern-day ergonomic tool, the relatively small, elliptical-shaped gadget wouldn’t take up any more space than a traditional can opener in my utensil drawer. I also was impressed with the device’s sturdy construction and the heft. I was, however, skeptical of any product that operates on its own, or “hands-free,” and worried about the exposed blade cutting off more than the can’s lid.
Now to opening some cans. I read the user manual and loaded the batteries. Nothing happened when I pushed the reset button, which meant the blade was in the right “start” position.
Once again, I can see the appeal of the One Touch Can Opener’s stylish design. A hybrid of those clunky old ’50s-era electric can openers and a modern-day ergonomic tool, the relatively small, elliptical-shaped gadget wouldn’t take up any more space than a traditional can opener in my utensil drawer. I also was impressed with the device’s sturdy construction and the heft. I was, however, skeptical of any product that operates on its own, or “hands-free,” and worried about the exposed blade cutting off more than the can’s lid.
Now to opening some cans. I read the user manual and loaded the batteries. Nothing happened when I pushed the reset button, which meant the blade was in the right “start” position.
Video: One Touch Can Opener
To my surprise, the device bounced along the top of the 2 ¾-inch-diameter can of evaporated milk and made a clear cut just below the rim. The lid, however, remained stuck in the can opener. I tried to resolve the problem by pressing the “release button” and turning the “stall release screw” manually with a Phillips screwdriver. Neither technique worked.
I contacted Marlboro, Mass.-basedCricket, the company that imports One Touch from China and distributes it here. “The unit may have been defective,” said Scott MacKinnon, vice president of new product development. One Touch was more than happy to send me another one. I also was told to keep in mind only 1 percent out of 4 million sold since April 2006 has been returned by customers. You do the math. That’s 40,000 defective can openers.
Advised to use fresh batteries, I tried the other can opener with new batteries on four cans—two tuna cans, a 4 ½-inch-diameter can of diced tomatoes and a 2-inch-diameter can of Italian tomato paste. The first three opened successfully. The tomato paste lid stuck.
One Touch Can Opener retails for $19.95 plus $7.95 shipping. In addition to the usual As-Seen-On-TV channels, it can be found at Wal-Mart for $18.44.
Pasta Pronta and Pasta Express
“Tired of the waiting for a big pot of water to boil and then breaking the pasta to make it fit?” says the perky pasta maker in the Pasta Express infomercial. “Love spaghetti and meatballs but hate the spaghetti and mess?” asks the vivacious voice over in the Pasta Pronta infomercial. Ah, the lure of perfect pasta every time. Watch these infomercials enough times and it’s hard to tell the products apart. So I decided to put both to the test.
First, Pasta Pronta. As instructed, I boiled water in a kettle on the stove to pour over the pasta I had placed in the clear plastic 12-inch tube. I sealed the container with the strainer and thermal lids—and then wrapped it with the thermal grip.
Video: Pasta Express (on company Web site)
Since no cooking times are listed on the box, the infomercial or even the instructions, I waited. The first time, I cooked Ronzoni spaghetti No. 8 for 10 minutes; the next time, Ronzoni tri-color radiatore No. 67 for 18 minutes; and then spaghetti again for 14 minutes.
The result invariably was the same: Whether undercooked or overcooked, a cold, mealy, starchy substance that proved to be almost inedible.
Then I tried the Pasta Express. Following the directions carefully—as instructed by Vernest Kazer, who produced the TV spot for Tri-Star productions, the Fairfield, N.J.-based company that imports (from China) and distributes the product—I warmed up the clear plastic tube with hot tap water to prime it for use. I also used the suggested cooking times posted on the Web site. The result: The same. Both pasta makers unequivocally made the worst pasta I’ve ever tasted.
Pasta Express comes in a one cylinder model for $9.99, available at Bed, Bath and Beyond or a two-cylinder version that retails for $19.99 plus $9 shipping at SkyMall. The two-cylinder pack of Pasta Pronta sells for as little as $12.99 at iKitchen.com to as much as $17.95 at 4asseenontv.com.
To my surprise, the device bounced along the top of the 2 ¾-inch-diameter can of evaporated milk and made a clear cut just below the rim. The lid, however, remained stuck in the can opener. I tried to resolve the problem by pressing the “release button” and turning the “stall release screw” manually with a Phillips screwdriver. Neither technique worked.
I contacted Marlboro, Mass.-basedCricket, the company that imports One Touch from China and distributes it here. “The unit may have been defective,” said Scott MacKinnon, vice president of new product development. One Touch was more than happy to send me another one. I also was told to keep in mind only 1 percent out of 4 million sold since April 2006 has been returned by customers. You do the math. That’s 40,000 defective can openers.
Advised to use fresh batteries, I tried the other can opener with new batteries on four cans—two tuna cans, a 4 ½-inch-diameter can of diced tomatoes and a 2-inch-diameter can of Italian tomato paste. The first three opened successfully. The tomato paste lid stuck.
One Touch Can Opener retails for $19.95 plus $7.95 shipping. In addition to the usual As-Seen-On-TV channels, it can be found at Wal-Mart for $18.44.
Pasta Pronta and Pasta Express
“Tired of the waiting for a big pot of water to boil and then breaking the pasta to make it fit?” says the perky pasta maker in the Pasta Express infomercial. “Love spaghetti and meatballs but hate the spaghetti and mess?” asks the vivacious voice over in the Pasta Pronta infomercial. Ah, the lure of perfect pasta every time. Watch these infomercials enough times and it’s hard to tell the products apart. So I decided to put both to the test.
First, Pasta Pronta. As instructed, I boiled water in a kettle on the stove to pour over the pasta I had placed in the clear plastic 12-inch tube. I sealed the container with the strainer and thermal lids—and then wrapped it with the thermal grip.
Video: Pasta Express (on company Web site)
Since no cooking times are listed on the box, the infomercial or even the instructions, I waited. The first time, I cooked Ronzoni spaghetti No. 8 for 10 minutes; the next time, Ronzoni tri-color radiatore No. 67 for 18 minutes; and then spaghetti again for 14 minutes.
The result invariably was the same: Whether undercooked or overcooked, a cold, mealy, starchy substance that proved to be almost inedible.
Then I tried the Pasta Express. Following the directions carefully—as instructed by Vernest Kazer, who produced the TV spot for Tri-Star productions, the Fairfield, N.J.-based company that imports (from China) and distributes the product—I warmed up the clear plastic tube with hot tap water to prime it for use. I also used the suggested cooking times posted on the Web site. The result: The same. Both pasta makers unequivocally made the worst pasta I’ve ever tasted.
Pasta Express comes in a one cylinder model for $9.99, available at Bed, Bath and Beyond or a two-cylinder version that retails for $19.99 plus $9 shipping at SkyMall. The two-cylinder pack of Pasta Pronta sells for as little as $12.99 at iKitchen.com to as much as $17.95 at 4asseenontv.com.
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Sound Off: Are TV gadgets worth the money?
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Sound Off: Are TV gadgets worth the money?
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