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"We must have a pie. Stress cannot exist in the presence of a pie." David Mamet

Thursday, December 23, 2010

karren's favorite gadget

The Down-Home Holiday Guide to Kitchen Gadgets
"Any association with Johnny Depp brings joy to my heart."
Karren gets a grip on her favorite gadget My sister, brother, and I used to love this old Peanuts cartoon of Snoopy dancing down a long hallway. A succession of 30 short scenes of just darling Snoopy prancing along, accompanied by one simple word—"Click".  Down the whole long hallway….Click, Click, Click, Click, Click, Click, Click, Click, Click, Click, Click,Click,Click,Click…and then finally at the end of the page…Toenails!  We would read it aloud to each other and just howl with laughter when we got to the… Toenails!
I reminisce because I was thinking of why, beyond its infinite versatility and convenience, the age-old kitchen tongs brings me so much joy? Then it occurred to me that it makes the same Click, Click, Click, Click, Click sound as Snoopy’s err…toenails.
Another strange connection I have with the beloved tongs is with Edward Scissorhands/Johnny Depp. Any association with Johnny Depp brings joy to my heart. And I guess the thought of us cutting and clicking away with our sterling silver appendages sends me in a whirl.
All of the fantasies aside, the hard cold fact is that my love for the kitchen tongs began during a past life as a part-owner/slave of a restaurant and lodge in the Adirondack Mountains. “Friends and frolic in the heart of the Adirondacks” was our motto. We had over 200 bunk beds—the most beds in the North East, Dimitri was fond of exclaiming in his thick Greek accent.  Anyone who ever cooked breakfast for 200 hungry mountain- and ice-climbing lodgers is familiar with the spitfire pace and intensity of a simple country breakfast.
5AM the sun is rising, the air is crackling, a coyote is howling—yes folks, a coyote will be howling as you frolic in the heart of the Adirondack Mountains at 5 AM. The eggs are cracking, the bread is baking, and soon the doors are opening to 200 strapping beasts.
That’s when the tongs get clicking. Of course I’d wash them at each new turn, but the pace was fast and furious. Click—turn the bacon, Click—grab the home fries, Click—flip the eggs, Click—flick the French toast, Click—unravel the waffle, Click—retrieve the toast…When things were really hopping, I’d be known to break out in a Spanish dance…swirling in the kitchen joyously clicking my castanedas. Click, Click, Click, Click, Click…Kitchen Tongs!

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