Helpful household hint: Do you wonder if your shirt has spandex? There's an easy way to find out! Just take your iron, set it on high and try to get out the wrinkles. You'll know it's spandex because both the shirt and the iron will be permanently ruined.
Oh, I suppose you could check the label, but then you wouldn't have all the fun of asking the internet how to get the gunk off your iron. Because this actually is no fun at all, and I've already done it, I'm here to help.
I have to be honest: I got all the plastic residue off the bottom of the iron with a razor blade. It took an hour. I wondered if my hand had slipped and sliced the hand holding the iron, and I went to the ER, would this have been classified as a razor-related injury or an iron-related one? The latter would be accurate, but it would probably skew the national statistics for iron-related injuries, and I wouldn't want to do that.
"What did you say?" my wife asked. I said, "Make sure it's marked down as a razor-blade related injury." I don't think she understood.
Anyway, the iron, once cleaned, continued to scorch, and that's the stuff I tried to remove. Let's google!
The search returns a list of videos. I do not want a video. I want instructions. Why does everything have to be a video? And why does every third video have a thumbnail of some guy with a beard and glasses making that open-mouth exaggerated happy expression that infects YouTube content makers like some brain parasite that burrows into the neurons responsible for facial expressions?
It's as if the parasite makes them look like that so other parasitically infected YouTubers will recognize each other, and they will mate. How they might do that in a browser, I don't know and don't want to.
Sometimes a video is helpful. When I changed a headlight on the car, a video walkthrough was nice. But there probably are walkthroughs for opening a carton of milk. First you have to sit through an ad for a vacation rental place, and an insurance company that thinks it's funny, and then the Insurance Lizard, whom you can't really hate, and maybe an ad featuring one of those permanently self-satisfied young women who just bought a car online with three easy taps, which is like buying a house because you flipped through some paint swatches.