Yesterday morning I ate a pink grapefruit for breakfast. It was simply delicious. I hummed as I carved perfect chunks out with my handy little grapefruit knife, taking very little time and effort since it's created precisely for the task and therefore does it beautifully.
As I ate I mused about that principle. There are several little items in my kitchen drawers which simply, each in its own way, make daily life that much smoother and nicer. To be honest, living in a country which doesn't grow citrus fruit, I rarely eat grapefruit; but when I do, it's a delight rather than toil and trouble... all because of that grapefruit knife.
My mother loved kitchen gadgets. She had a whole kitchen full of things like hard-boiled egg slicers, little yellow corn-cob holders, tea cozies and the like. But in amongst the junk there were a few real treasures: things made specifically for one job, which do that job superbly. Mom gave me an unassuming-looking stoneware crock which is precisely the right shape and size to whip 1/2 pint/250ml heavy cream quick as winking. The shape speeds the whole process up immeasurably; so much so that the first few times I used it, I ended up with butter.
When we were last in England, A and I went into a cookware shop where I happily browsed through all the aisles. We ended up buying plastic cling film in a custom container which dispenses it perfectly, so it doesn't tangle or wrinkle or rip (as Austrian brands always do), and a small device for making poached eggs in the microwave.
I don't know about you, but I simply cannot make a poached egg in the classic fashion (a painful admission for someone who considers herself not a bad cook on the whole). I end up with either egg soup or hard lumps. However, I like eating them and so does A. We thought it couldn't hurt, for the few pounds, to give it a try. And now this small device is the crown jewel of our breakfast kitchen. In less than 5 minutes 2 perfect poached eggs smile up at your from your toast. It simply cannot fail!
Have you ever tried to cook in a kitchen not your own and been unable to find a sharp knife? I don't know how people live with dull bits of metal in knife form. Do they just hack away at things until they stop resisting? A dull knife makes cooking a chore, rather than a pleasure.
When I die (which I trust will be no time soon, but you never know), having been a missionary most of my adult life, I won't be leaving much behind for my family to squabble over. But one household item, though unassuming in appearance, has been lusted over since its first use. That item is: THE Bread Knife. Everyone in the family knows which one I mean, because there is only one worthy of the name.
This knife was part of a very forgettable set given to my first husband and me when we married in 1977. That was before wedding registries were common; the only shops that offered them at that time were shops my friends would not be able to afford. It was the era of giving slow cookers (2), fondue pots (3), and stoneware crockery (not as much as we'd hoped for). The wooden-handled set was doubtless made cheaply somewhere in China and consisted of 6 steak knives, 1 (supposed) carving knife and... The Bread Knife.
It didn't look special then, and it certainly doesn't now, after over 30 years of constant use. I don't even remember why I kept it when we gave away the rest, having better steak knives and a carving knife that didn't bend upon contact with meat. I suppose we didn't own another bread knife then, and frankly we didn't need it as American bread usually came sliced.
However, I soon learnt it was fantastic at slicing heat-n-serve rolls, or sourdough loaves, so it stayed. And although I have owned (and given up on) several other bread knives throughout the years, nothing can touch this one for sharpness, staying power and utter indestructibility.
It's not even the classic shape for a bread knife: very long and thin, with a rounded tip and a serrated edge. But its very thinness is a boon: it never sticks to even the soggiest loaf, or the toughest-skinned Austrian Bauernbrot. I have no idea how it has stayed keen all these years, but it has....
And my entire family covets it. It's unlikely ever to wear out; the thing seems to have a life of its own. Maybe I'll have to make certain I "lose it" before I go the way of all flesh, to avoid an internecine war!
