Review: All-Clad Cordless Rechargeable Stainless Steel Hand Blender

Years ago, when I learned of the existence of home-kitchen immersion blenders, I got so excited that I bought three of them: one for myself and one each for my mom and my sister. How could you not go wild for a handheld tool that could almost instantly turn a can of Campbell's Chunky into something smooth and silky? 

Immersion blenders have become affordable and pretty indispensable tools in the years since then. They all work roughly the same way. The business end is a spinning blade on a shaft that clips into the top half, a combination of motor and controls, all about the size of an extra-tall can of White Claw. The cord usually emerges above your hand, which seems odd, but you barely notice it. One of the main glories of  immersion blenders is that you don't have to transfer boiling soup from its pot to a full-size jar blender to potentially another pot to blend it. Just plunge the blade into the pot you cooked it in and start blending. It's great for soups of many stripes and is particularly strong for homemade mayo, hollandaise, and dressings. I love using mine to whip up quick-and-dirty batches of herb sauces like salsa verde.

When you're done, tuck the blade shaft in the dishwasher, wrap the power cord around the top and slide it into a utensil drawer, then go about your day.

Some immersion blenders—also known as "hand" or "stick" blenders—work better than others, but I've always admired their usefulness and value. I married into a basic Braun that was old enough to need duct tape to hold the whisk attachment together and tough enough to keep chugging for years afterward. Testing Braun's MultiQuick 7 in 2020 demonstrated refinements in power, control, and consistency of the finished product. For example, the bell-shaped dome over the blade, along with your own good sense, keeps splatter to a minimum.

This was the happy history I kept in mind when testing the new cordless immersion blender from All-Clad. The company is best known for its pots and pans, but it turns out it’s also been making other kitchen gear, including immersion blenders. Between that and the cordlessness, a new feature in some kitchen appliances, I was intrigued.

Photograph: All Clad

The All-Clad Cordless Rechargeable Stainless Steel Hand Blender comes in silver or black and works just like its corded brethren. The top half, which you hold, has controls to turn it on and off and to adjust speed. For charging, you set it into its matching dome-shaped countertop charging station. It doesn't take much of a creative mind to think that it looks like a large, shiny dildo nestled in between the KitchenAid and the microwave, something that's hard to unsee.

Nevertheless, I buzzed through testing quickly and easily. On a visit to Vancouver to see my mother-in-law, I made vichyssoise—potato-leek soup—intentionally leaving the leek chunks larger than I should have to see if that would leave stringy bits all over the place, but the All-Clad powered through, leaving liquid velvet in its wake. Ditto for using it as a finishing touch for Thanksgiving gravy. No lumps here! Among reviewer colleagues at other publications, I've seen All-Clad's immersion blenders, both corded and cordless, get some slack for being a bit unwieldily, and while it's certainly not as intuitive or comfortable as the ski-grip handle and variable-speed trigger of the MultiQuick 7, this one felt OK considering that it's cordless. One peculiar thing that will sound a bit contradictory following that was that I couldn't decide how to grip it. "Away" from me, clamping it between my thumb and forefingers and using the thumb to turn it on and off, or curled into my hand with the power button under my fingers. Neither was particularly comfortable. Oddly, when I asked a rep about this their response was essentially, "Whichever!" which made me wish it had been designed one way or the other.

Over the winter, I leaned into the cooler weather and made butternut squash soup with ginger. Like leeks, that ginger could have posed a problem, but the finished product was a pleasant, warming soup, a hearty blast when the daylight was minimal.

I ran into a couple of small problems. First I noticed not far into testing that the blade either came with or quickly developed some very tiny dings in the edge that a rep confirmed shouldn't have been there. Nothing I'd made with it up to that point should have caused that, and though the dings seemed to have no effect on performance, I swapped my test blender for a new one. (Keep an eye on the online reviews to see if this persists.) Second, I was turned off by the blue charging light that stayed on after it was fully charged. Kitchens don't need any more always-on LEDs in them, thank you.

The body of the blender slots into its cradle.

Photograph: All Clad

Here's a bigger problem. It works just fine, but for the life of me I can't figure out what cordlessness does for all but the most outlet-starved among us. Not having a cord kinda implies that a cord is a problem, but on a well-designed immersion blender, it isn't. My cordless drill is super convenient, allowing me to roam around the house with it, drilling holes and screwing in screws high and low. It makes working with the tool easier, and it's safer to use, but when you're making soup with an immersion blender, where are you gonna go? I really couldn't figure out what conveniences you get by removing the tether. It doesn't really work better or worse than a corded model. It's not more comfortable. It isn't more maneuverable, as the cords on the corded versions never really get in the way. It's not like they’re a tripping hazard or dangling into your soup.

In fact, having a battery can create more for you to do, like charge it and, if you don't use it often, remember to give it maintenance charges every three to six months for longer battery life. Plus, charging the battery requires shelf space. And when the whole thing dies one day, the world has another dead battery leaching into the landfill.

What really pushed me over the edge was value. Braun's MultiQuick 5—a predecessor of the MultiQuick 7 and still a reviewer's darling—costs around $65, including a whisk and a very useful "beaker" that gets frequent use since it's just the right size for many immersion blender jobs. The $100 MultiQuick 7 comes with the whisk and beaker, plus a surprisingly useful mini-chopper attachment. A fancy Breville is $160. These all frequently go on sale. The All-Clad comes with no beaker or whisk or other attachment, which is weirdly skimpy considering it lists for a whopping $330. (I had to borrow my MultiQuick's beaker to make mayo with the All-Clad.) Catch a sale on the MultiQuick 5 or 7 and you could get several of them to give to friends and family for that much money.

It's possible the folks at All-Clad have figured this out. While they declined to comment on pricing, for most of the last year the price on Amazon ranged from $200 to $230, which is still too steep.

It'd be one thing if the All-Clad cordless wildly outperformed the competition, but it doesn't. You may have noticed that I didn't give many more examples of what I made or mention how it compared to my own immersion blender and regular blender when I made that gravy. It works fine, not multiple times better.

Looking at it like this implies that no cord means no extra value. Yes, I'm sure there are some people out there with a dearth of kitchen outlets and others who might want to make a (precharged) campsite velouté, but for the majority of us, at this price, I don't see the point.