My Mum and Dad had one. On a Sunday, if cooking BSL (bloody Sunday lunch according to my Dad) he would cook/murder all the vegetables and place them in the ready heated hostess trolley by around 11.30 am for a 1 o'clock lunch until the roast was ready, then he would carve/attack the meat while shouting 'Dorotheeee, this bloody beef is undercooked. The table shook as he wrenched the knife back and forth, and then, alleluiah, the veggies were poured onto the plate and lunch commenced. As soon as he died, I donated the wretched thing to a good cause! I am sure, properly used they are a very useful item, but I wouldn't give house room to one for all the tea in China