Adjacent to the fridge stands the stove. Let us not forget its importance, for without it, those in the fridge who consider themselves to be a cut above the rest, would wilt and wither and waste their 'sweetness on the desert air' unless subjected to the timely interventions of the stove.
Let us be frank - the stove, although not a modern invention like the fridge, can, however, boast antecedents which can be traced back to the caveman. The stove, too, has its hierarchy. Reigning supreme are the switches; these are the regulators of all that is to follow. Then there are the plates - unfortunately these (although situated on the stove top) are the plebs of the stove, catering as they do to boozy fry-ups and other such low-class eats as baked-beans-on-toast and fried eggs sunny-side-up, not to forget that meal so beloved of the great unwashed, bubble-and-squeak.
The absolute jewel in the stove's crown is the oven, for it is here that miracles take place. Into the jaws of this cavernous space are placed, in a tin, and in no particular order, eggs, milk, flour, sugar and butter and 30 minutes later (if you are lucky and have read the recipe correctly) - Hey Presto! there is a rounded mountain of culinary delight, just waiting to be enjoyed when suitably cooled.
Such is the stove!