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Richmond Times - Dispatch

What would you pay for this?

"Don't answer!

"Act now and you'll also receive ..."

In any language, words like these ring in the ears of insomniacs.

Got ring around the collar, crow's-feet, lousy golf swing, flabby abs, cooking disasters?

"But wait! There's more!"

Faster than Zap melts soap scum, infomercials ring up for tunes for sellers and astronomical credit card bills for "cures" to those problems.

"Call in the next 10 minutes, and we'll double your order."

Question is: Do the products deliver?

One duffer who was a sucker for anything that promised a better drive, chip or putt finally realized that the perfect golf shot took place between the ears, but not until he'd filled two golf bags with infomercial-ordered clubs.

Kitchen appliances, tools, cookware, storage systems and gadgets are less suspect. Everybody's gotta eat, after all, and, despite what the Golf Channel would have us believe, the sport is not one of life 's necessities. In the experience of most who play the game, it's one of life's more humiliating aggravations.

In the early stages of discovering the joy of cooking, newbie foodies rush out to buy every new gizmo as soon as it hits kitchen shops, infomercials or culinary catalogs. Eventually, when every drawer, shelf and cabinet becomes a cluttered danger zone, they admit that they don't really need seven ice cream scoops , let alone a cherry pitter, strawberry huller or egg separator.

Single-function appliances can be even worse.

Elizabeth DeMarchant can't help laughing when she recalls one she tested. DeMarchant runs the test kitchen for Hamilton Beach/Proctor- Silex Inc. She has a doctorate in housing, interior design and resource management with an emphasis in housing and equipment from Virginia Tech. Part of her job is testing new inventions, retesting her companies' appliances to improve them and testing competitors' appliances.

"It was a combination washer-peeler for potatoes," DeMarchant said. "Oh, it worked, but the thing spewed water all over the kitchen and turned 5 pounds of whole potatoes to 2 pounds of peeled potatoes."

Infomercials started in the early '60s when Ron Popeil, founder of Ronco Inventions, switched from peddling his wares at fairs and such to selling them exclusively via television.

Popeil built his wealth on kitchen gadgets, beginning with the Dial-O-Matic, Veg-O-Matic and Mince-O-Matic. In 1964, according to the Ronco Web site, the company pulled in sales of $200,000. By 1968, the company's revenues were $8.8 million. In the past 40 years, Ronco products have pulled in more than $1 billion in sales.

Infomercials grew stronger in 1975 when Edward Valenti and Barry Becher partnered to introduce "The Miracle Painter." The duo quickly became known as the Ginsu Guys in tribute to the knife they brought to market. They racked up sales of more than $500 million during a 10-year period, according to their recently published book, "The Wisdom of Ginsu: Carve Yourself a Piece of the American Dream" (Career Press, $14.99).

Popeil went into semi-retirement and left the operating of Ronco to others in 1987. His later invention, The Electric Food Dehydrator, brought him back to the small screen. On any given day - - or night -- Popeil demonstrates Ronco Showtime Rotisseries to shouts of "Set it and forget it!"

While infomercials launch some worthy items (OxiClean is a personal favorite), some of today's can't-live-without items are little more than tomorrow's dust catchers.

It's hard to imagine a scout who prefers a Hot Dog Rotisserie Griller, $49.95, or a S'mores Wizard, $29.95, to a couple of sticks and a campfire.

Purging a kitchen of items not used for a year, packing them up and hauling them to a charity yard sale are enlightening experiences. Before I pull out my credit card and punch in the next 800 number, I vow to remember the never-out-of-the-box microwave pressure cooker.

What works for you?

We want to know which kitchen gadgets, gizmos and appliances work for you and which you could have done without.

Send your stories, with photos if you have them, to: lmahoney@timesdispatch.com with "Kitchenware" in the subject line, or Kitchenware, c/0 Louis Mahoney, Richmond Times-Dispatch, P.O. Box 85333, Richmond, VA 23293.

Go to www.asseenontv.com or www.roncoproducts.com if you need to refresh your memory.