Thursday, August 26, 2010

Ode to kitchen items

I'm still moving in.  Really.  I'm turning into Elasta Girl in The Incredibles who calls Mr Incredible at work to say they've officially moved in after three years because she just opened the last box.  It may take me that long, not because we have much - we sold practically everything before moving here - but because we don't own any bookshelves at the moment.  Which is a sin, I'm pretty sure.  Like, the 11th commandment or something, right?  Thou shalt not not own bookshelves.  Shalt not not?  Is that a triple negative?

In my unpacking frenzy, I of course have the kitchen just about the way I want it.  So here you go, an ode to kitchen items:

Cuisinart electric can do I love thee?  Let me count the ways:

1.  You don't open half the can, skip a centimeter, then start cutting again, only to stop at the end with another uncut centimeter, leaving the contents completely unaccessible.  Leaving me to shake, pound, mangle and smack the can in a hopeless attempt to salvage that part of dinner that is now, at that moment, desperately important and desired.  It could be garbanzo beans that expired in 1997, but now you really gotta have them.
2. You don't take up too much counter space.  How humble and unassuming of you!
3.  I bought you at a thrift store for a mere 2.99.
4.  You look shiny and expensive and purr like a kitten.
5.  I never have to fumble in a drawer for you only to be stabbed by knives and those little bamboo skewers that I've never bought but mysteriously find their way into every kitchen I've ever owned.

The microwave.
How else would I nuke my coffee 14 times in one morning?  Without you I'd be forced to bake potatoes in the oven.  Unthinkable.  They roll around in there and drop through the racks and when I go to rescue them, the ungrateful little spuds burn me everytime.  There's a reason why they're called hot potatoes.

My kitchenaid mixer.  It'd be darn difficult to make weekly homemade pizza crust without you.  Not impossible, but darn difficult.  Someday I promise to learn how to use the pasta attachment.

The dishwasher.  Not the one that's broken right now and for the past week.  I don't like you at all and I'm not talking to you.  Breaking within two weeks of me moving in.  Rude.  I'm speaking to the new one should it ever arrive.  I haven't even met you yet, but I love you more  as much as I love friends and family.

Programmable coffee maker.  But we've talked about that before.

Bounty paper towels.  Or Viva.  Or Brawny.  But mostly Bounty.  Absorbant, rinse out-able, and they perforate easily enough that if you're juggling a jelly stained toddler, a hot saucepan, a ringing phone, and smacking a hungry teenager who is reaching for the fridge all with one hand, you can still rip one off with the other.

1 comment:

  1. I can definitley relate to the moving in thing. It's been 6 months, and we still haven't unpacked the rest of the books. Not to mention half the junk that's in the garage, that I don't think even a mountain goat would be able to reach at this point... But my favorite kitchen acessories would be my blender, french fry maker, super chopper, and of course the s-s-salad shooter! )Growing up in an underprivleged family without a dishwasher, I never did learn how to use the darn things right. I always end up washing everything before I actually put it in there (kind of like the person who cleans before the maid arrives) because I don't trust it not to remove the stuck on bits, at which point it's actually pretty useless to me. =( If you have any tips on how to operate one correctly, I am all ears! =)