It does have a few disadvantages. Because of the two separate plates with an inch space between them, you can only fit four pancakes on it at once instead of six, but there are only two of us so that's no problem. It seems to take longer for the pancakes to cook, too. However, the panini we get are amazingly crisp and with the grill plates, you can grill both sides at once, making that process much faster.
The plates—flat, grill-marked, and waffled—are nonstick. Boy, are they nonstick. You want to know how I found out?
When I pour pancake batter on this thing, I have no trouble at all. Maybe it is because they immediately begin to cook and the batter is thick enough not to run. But eggs are another thing entirely. Evidently the side that is the "top" if you fold it, does not sit exactly flat when opened up. It looks close enough that I did not realize that.
One day we decided to have breakfast for dinner. I preheated the pan and, just because my husband likes it that way, I put a teaspoon of bacon grease on the already slick surface. Then I poured on the raw eggs.
Immediately the eggs slid over to the side of the pan. Before I could move, one had slid onto the counter and down onto the floor—splat!--between my feet. I managed by then to get my flipper flat end standing on the surface of the pan at the rim, but that didn't stop it fast enough. All the eggs kept sliding, building up around my flipper edge until they started oozing around the sides of it and headed for the fall once again. I grabbed another flipper and stood it up on the rim of the pan next to the first one to catch a larger portion of the running egg whites.
Meanwhile, I started hollering, probably nothing intelligible. At this point I was straddling one egg and holding two flippers erect trying to keep the rest of the eggs on the pan. Keith came running and saw what was happening. He grabbed some paper towels and knelt down between my feet to clean up the floor. That meant I had to squat a bit to fit his shoulders in there. I wish I had a picture—but then, maybe not. Finally I could actually move my feet without stepping into eggs and sliding across the floor. He grabbed one of the flippers while I raked a little of the now cooked egg white back from the lip of the pan with the other and made a nice little dam. Another minute and I could flip the eggs over and they actually stayed put.
We stepped back, a little winded, shaking our heads at what had just happened. The two of us working together meant we had only lost one egg and, believe it or not, the others were cooked perfectly.
Now imagine if he had looked over, seen what was happening and said, "That was a stupid thing to do."
Or, "If you hadn't poured them out so quickly that wouldn't have happened."
Or, "That's your job not mine."
Or, "Someone else will take care of it."
Or, "That's not my talent," and hadn't lifted a finger to help.
We wouldn't have had dinner, and we would have probably lost far more than one egg.
Too bad that's what happens in the church too often. And it's deplorable that too often in our judgmental, self-serving apathy we lose far more than one soul-less little egg.
Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love. (Eph 4:15-16)