She never called it a hack. To her, it was just common sense: a dishwashing pod, a heatproof dish, some water, and patience. While the oven warms gently, the pod dissolves into a steamy bath that creeps into every corner, softening the grime you thought was permanent. When you open the door, there’s no choking chemical cloud, only a warm haze and the faint scent of soap.
A simple wipe suddenly does what hours of scrubbing never could. For the stubborn patches, a soft brush and a second round finish the job. No harsh sprays, no rubber gloves up to your elbows, no guilt about what’s lingering in the air. Just a quiet, almost old-fashioned kind of clean—one that feels like someone who cared about you figured it out long before you ever needed it.
