Don’t shop for gadgetry when you’re hungry
My thesaurus is threadbare when it comes to that most useful of descriptive nouns: the gadget. I live in a second language world, so my vocabulary now has terms like gugusse, patente, chose. None very useful to those who don’t live inside the other nation of Canada. Bear with me.
Over lunch, I went on a quest for a tool without a name. All I knew was that it was fitted with a spiraling affair at one end and was useful in making foamy milk. I’m sure your local coffee shop has one or two in prominent view on the bench. My workaround was to explain to the two kindly ladies in the coffee machine store that I wanted something or other. Finally she seized the day, switched to English and assured me that it was a question of technique rather than equipment. Where else would such a description fit the situation, besides a espresso machine store?
Anyhow, I thanked her profusely and returned to the office, having saved the day once again. At home, somehow, my explanation was deemed invalid, and we set off for an evening of shopping. First the big box store, where I scored a whole kilo of the elusive Jelly Belly along with other foodstuffs, and then the centre of the shopping universe for those who spend each day (or a portion thereof) in the kitchen. The gadget store.
If you can picture it, and figure out how it might be used in the preparation of food, then this store has one or more of it. Let’s see; new oven mitts and pot mitts (because I am tired of burns from the holes in the ends of the other ones). A silicone sheet for the damaged Buffalo wing pan. The elusive spiraly geegaw for milk frothing. An egg-shaped cooking thingie for (what else) cooking hardboiled eggs in the microwave. A grater for chocolate for your coffee. And some other stuff; I don’t have any more names. I did not buy the funny pot from Creuset that looked like a volcano, because I refuse to spend $200 on something I don’t understand, at least when we’re talking cookwares. The nice woman could have explained its use, but she was busy helping the significant one to find the chocolate grater. I also abstained from spending money on a personal deep fryer and a pan for making tortillas, and new CorningWare casseroles. Did you know that our “old” ones can go on the stove top, while the “new” ones can’t? Is this an example of retrograde progress?
Enough gadgetry for one evening. I’ll go back the next time I haven’t eaten and want to spend money. Yes, “cooking hardware” stores are as bad as food stores for the starved shopper.
