The Boncuk of Good Service - The Fridge That Cooked My Groceries

Post 2 of 3 - first published 2007

I bought my fridge in Sirkeci - near the Spice Bazaar - over three years ago, along with nearly every other appliance needed to start a life in Istanbul. The salesman could barely believe his luck as I purchased a refrigerator, oven, stove, washing machine, television and more in one transaction. I left the store convinced I had secured six years of stress-free living thanks to extended warranties on all the appliances.

Just as the original three years expired, I returned from a short trip to London and opened my front door to a smell that hit me like a physical force. Rotting food. Fermenting butter. Meat that had effectively been slow-cooked inside my fridge.

The compressor had failed, but the motor continued to run — heating the contents rather than cooling them. I emptied bag after bag of decaying food, scrubbing the interior with vanilla, lemon, bleach… anything that might erase the smell. Nothing worked. The stench lingered, embedded in the plastic itself.

Still, I felt smug. I had the warranty.

I called the service centre and explained the urgency: summer heat, a cooking school, no refrigeration. A technician would arrive that afternoon.

He didn’t.

At 5pm, after multiple calls, I was told he had “gotten lost.” He would come tomorrow.

He arrived the next day, greeted me like an old friend, and quickly identified the problem — but didn’t have the parts. The fridge would not yet be fixed.

And so, after two days of waiting, calling, and mild fury, the fridge finally worked again.

In Istanbul, I’ve learned that the issue is rarely the repair itself — it’s everything that happens before it.

…to be continued