I remember a story from my childhood, in the 90s. My mother had an employee, a single mother, the son grew up, six years old. And a man came to them in the department, so to himself, neither fish nor meat, but... a man! Well, immediately the collective plans turned around, how to bring them together. And then the occasion turned - this employee told me that she bought a microwave with a grill, word for word, a man once - and suggested that the microwave to put on. They agreed that he would come to visit for the weekend. He came, with the chicken, pushed it into the microwave, with jokes-supplements, festive, the son under his feet turns. The day! - Get a smoking chicken, appreciate - oh, succeeded in fame, red, with a crust. A very good microwave! The man gets the foil, spreads, wraps the chicken and takes home, eats.