Pull the filter out of the dishwasher floor

On the floor of the tub, under the bottom rack and the spray arm, on the machines people describe: one person says pull the rack out, then twist or pull the round piece toward the front and lift it; some machines have two, and some have a disposal trough as well; the manual says which. Many people say clean it, and people explain why so many are shocked at what comes out — many had never known the filter existed, some had run the machine for years without cleaning it, and some people warn that a never-cleaned one holds hair, slime and things you dropped. How often is argued, one person each way: monthly against once a year, and some people rinse it after every use so a deep clean is never needed; some people say the filter is where to look before deciding the machine is broken. Now some people point out: not every dishwasher has a removable filter. Some newer machines have a built-in self-cleaning one, one person warns; some older machines have a grinder instead of a filter, one person says; and one person warns many American machines have that grinder and you should check the manual before poking at it. Some people in one discussion had not known their machine had a filter at all, and some people corrected them. And one person points out that a dishwasher-cleaning tablet dissolves film and smell but does little for a physical blockage of hair and fluff, so the tablet is not a substitute for pulling the filter. One person pulled theirs, found it spotless, and the machine still washed badly; why a machine fails with a clean filter — spray arms, water temperature — is not covered here, and this page does not fill it.

People argue this in many discussions and never settle it, so here are both sides. Some people say do not rinse: modern detergents use enzymes that need food residue to work on, and one person warns rinsed plates can interfere with a modern machine’s sensors and give a worse wash. Some people say rinse the debris off to protect the filter and skip the second cycle, and people split exactly there — one side scrapes into the bin and lets the machine do the rest to save water, the other rinses eggs and syrup or runs it twice. In another discussion, some people say if you are scrubbing with soap first you might as well hand-wash; the answer given, in some discussions, is that the machine still sanitises with heat even when the scrubbing was yours. The US Energy Star programme’s line, which this page carries as its own, sides with the scrapers: rinsing before loading increases the total water and energy used, so scrape the food off and let the machine and the detergent do the cleaning. People’s own decider is the machine: a model with a grinder handles chunks left two days, some people say, while a machine that only sprays and does not scrub needs baked-on food dealt with by hand. Whatever you do, scrape the starch — the safety line above has why.

That is the argument rendered below. The short version: on a machine plumbed to the hot-water line, running the kitchen tap until it runs hot means the first fill is hot rather than the cold water sitting in the pipe, and one person warns a machine that cannot heat its own water washes cold otherwise; but many people, across some discussions, say many machines — especially in Europe, and some in the US — fill from the cold line and heat the water themselves, to around 170°F by one person’s figure, so the tap trick does nothing for them. Which one you have is in the manual or under the sink.

Sharp knives, cast iron, wood, and anything with a finish you care about, people say across some discussions — and then they correct each other on the details. Knives: one person points out the rule is for sharp kitchen knives — chef’s, bread — which dull and, one person warns, cut the rack coating; steak and butter knives are generally fine, unless the handles are wooden, and one person warns wooden handles and wooden anything suffer in the water and heat. Cast iron: keep it out, and one person quotes a cast-iron maker’s own care guidance as hand-wash gently, no abrasive scraper, and soap is fine — the point is the seasoning, not avoiding soap altogether; one person cleans with salt and oil instead, and in one discussion someone does put cast iron through the machine and dries it straight after, against some people who say the racks cannot hold it and it strips the seasoning. Enamelled cast iron splits people too: one person cites two makers saying their enamelled pieces are dishwasher-safe, while one person warns the enamel wears and cracks; the person citing the makers admits not knowing whom to trust, and this page does not decide for you — the rusty-skillet page linked below carries the cast-iron care. Also named by individual people: non-stick pans, crystal, gold-leafed glasses, mugs with printed pictures, and plastic boxes, which one person warns crack sooner under heated dry.

Dishwasher detergent in any of those forms, and never hand dish soap; the safety line has why. Beyond that people disagree by household: one says powder is cheapest and the fill line gets the dose right, one says pods are safest around pets that lick the floor, one says liquid is what gets flatmates to actually run the machine, and in one discussion people argue exactly that, one person each way. One person warns too much detergent, or the wrong kind, jams the dispenser or clogs the drain line, and one person with soft water uses half the recommended dose and gets cleaner dishes without the soap smell; one person warns heavily scented cleaning packets can set off asthma, and unscented ones exist. Some people run a cycle with white vinegar, sometimes followed by baking soda, to shift film, smell and limescale, and others run a cup of vinegar through now and then; whether that is needed at all if the filter is kept clean, and what years of vinegar do to the rubber seals, are not covered here. Drying: some people crack the door at the end of the cycle and let the dishes air-dry instead of using heated dry, which one person warns newer efficient machines do less well anyway; some people warn a heated dry can bake residue on if the filter is dirty, and one says it cracks plastic boxes over time. Two loading lines from individual people: unload the bottom rack first so the top rack does not drip on it, and mix forks and spoons in the basket so the spoons do not nest and block the water. One person runs the machine at night because their electricity is cheaper then — only true if your tariff has an off-peak rate.

Some people say yes, and people spend a lot of words on the fine print. Some people put the figures at up to 27 gallons for a sink-and-tap wash against three or four gallons for an efficient machine, and one person points out that the article those figures come from claims water savings, not electricity savings. The US Energy Star programme’s own line, this page’s, is that a certified dishwasher uses less than half as much energy as hand-washing and saves 8,400 US gallons of water a year. Some people object that the comparison assumes a tap left running; people argue whether careful hand-washing with the tap off beats the machine, and some people admit they leave the tap on the whole time. One person tells a family story — a father who believed dishwashers wasted water in the 1970s, and a child who later found the modern ones do not. The honest limits: people argue whether the saving is too small to matter and the real gain is time; one person says a half-empty machine is not efficient, and how often a household should run it splits people — every two or three days for a family of four, against three or four loads a day for a household of six with constant meals. And if you once ran it twice because you could not face scrubbing, nothing broke: the people who did say so.