Instant Pot Trivet Substitute

You know that moment. You’ve prepped the perfect pot roast, seared it to a golden brown, deglazed the bottom like a pro, and then you reach for the trivet. It’s gone. Not just misplaced—sucked into the mysterious black hole that lives behind the toaster. We’ve all been there, standing in the kitchen, staring into the abyss of the Instant Pot, wondering if a crumpled ball of aluminum foil counts as “modern cooking.”

Let’s be real: that metal rack isn’t just a piece of hardware. It’s the gatekeeper of steam cooking. Without it, your chicken thighs turn into sad, soggy blobs that taste like regret. But panic not, you frazzled home chef. The great Instant Pot trivet substitute hunt is a rite of passage, and I’ve got your back with some seriously easy-going tricks.

Your Kitchen Is a Treasure Trove (of Chaos)

First up, look in your silverware drawer. Do you have a stainless steel steamer basket? Perfect. It’s basically the trivet’s fancier cousin who went to design school. That little metal flower will lift your food off the bottom just as well, letting steam do its happy dance. Plus, it doubles as a colander for rinsing beans, so you look like a multitasking genius.

No steamer basket? No problem. Grab a metal colander that fits inside your inner pot. Yes, the one you use to drain pasta on Tuesday nights. Make sure it has feet or a rim so it doesn’t sit flat on the bottom. I once tried this with a plastic colander—big mistake. The bottom melted into a psychedelic modern art piece. Stick with metal, friends.

The Great “Junk Drawer” Challenge

Now we get creative. Do you own any heat-safe ramekins? Those little ceramic bowls you use for crème brûlée (or, let’s be honest, storing garlic cloves)? Flip three of them upside down in the pot. Pop a heatproof plate on top. Boom—you’ve built a trivet from scratch. It wobbles a bit, like a toddler on a unicycle, but it works.

If you’re feeling pioneer-level desperate, grab two metal mason jar rings. Nest them together to form a little wire donut. Or use a ball of heavy-duty aluminum foil. Roll it into a thick, snake-like rope, then coil it into a spiral about the size of your fist. It’s ugly, sure, but it’s been my dinner hero on three separate Tuesdays. Just don’t use thin foil—it’ll collapse like a bad soufflé.

Everything You Need to Know About the Instant Pot Trivet - Instant Pot 101

The “Wait, That’s Actually Genius” Section

Here’s a wild one: a cast-iron trivet from your slow cooker. If you’ve got a Crock-Pot gathering dust, steal its rack. It’s usually the exact same size. I found mine behind a bag of frozen peas and felt like I’d discovered a lost Mayan artifact. It fits snugly and doesn’t scratch the inner pot. High-five yourself.

For the truly reckless (hi, that’s me), consider a ceramic ramekin turned upside down. Pop a small heatproof plate on top. I did this once during a power outage, holding my phone flashlight with my teeth. The food turned out perfect. The only casualty was my dignity when I texted the neighborhood group chat a photo captioned “Masterchef: Apocalypse Edition.”

The One Thing You Should Never, Ever Do

Do not use a wooden cutting board. I know, it’s right there. It seems logical. Wood + high pressure + high heat = splinter soup. I tried it once as a joke. The joke was on me when my lentils tasted like a lumberjack’s tears. Also, no plastic lids, no Tupperware bottoms, and definitely no wine corks (yes, someone has tried that. I saw it on a Facebook group. The comments were brutal).

Instant Pot Trivet Substitute: 7 Best Options Ever!

Here’s the most important thing: whatever you use must let steam circulate. If your substitute blocks the bottom, you’ll get a burn notice from your Instant Pot—literally. That little “burn” light is the pot’s way of saying, “You’re a monster, and I refuse to cook.” So give it space. It’s not a hug; it’s a steamy relationship.

The Final Word (and a Tiny Confession)

Look, I’ve lost three trivets in two years. One rolled under the fridge and was never seen again. Another met its end in a tragic dishwasher avalanche. The third? I think it’s currently living in a parallel universe where all lost socks go. So I keep my arsenal of substitutes in a labeled Ziploc bag: two mason jar rings, a foil snake, and a ramekin that’s seen things.

The next time you open the Instant Pot drawer and find it empty, don’t panic. You’re not out of options—you’re just entering a fun little scavenger hunt. You’ve already got everything you need. And honestly, that slightly wobbly, foil-coiled dinner that you engineer from chaos? It tastes better than the perfect one. Because you beat the system. Take a bow, chef. The trivet is dead. Long live the trivet.