Have you ever bought a kitchen appliance that never will be of any use to anyone? I did. And I've suffered one humiliation after another as a result.
I bought a spiralizer, a gadget that perhaps most people have never heard of. I hadn't, not until a friend offered to conduct a one-on-one spiralizerfamiliarization workshop with me.
She produced this eccentric appliance - plastic, made in China - with a set of three slicing discs and a manually operated feeder. She then proceeded to turn an ordinary, gardenvariety zucchini into long, twirly pasta-like strings before my very eyes. I was, needless to say, enchanted. And I don't even like zucchini.
Nonetheless, I came home with several plastic baggies stuffed with zucchini "pasta." It was an amusing diversion, a jolly and unexpected one at that, and I was delighted to see this decidedly humdrum vegetable transformed into a dish I could relate to. I had my pseudo pasta for dinner that evening, topped with a fresh tomato and basil sauce. It was really rather good! And if I concentrated mightily I could actually overlook the fact that I was sucking back a bowlful of cleverly disguised zucchini.
Naturally, I had to have a spiralizer of my own. It was fun and kitchen appliances aren't usually all that much fun. Besides, I figured I could win friends and influence people with this clever new addition to my bloated collection of eccentric gadgets.
I invited a neighbour to join me in the kitchen.
"We'll play with zucchinis!" I enthused. "Maybe a pattypan squash as well. And a big russet potato!"
My neighbour, a most accommodating soul for the most part, suddenly remembered an urgent appointment she had in Calgary that would take her away for a week. So I moved smartly to Plan B and another unsuspecting playmate.
Friend B had invited us to dinner, a spiralizer showoff opportunity I couldn't pass up. We arrived with wine, which was warmly welcomed, and a baggie stuffed with my own handcrafted zucchini pasta, which was greeted with considerably less enthusiasm.
She had been introduced to spiralized zucchini before and, apparently, could take it or leave it. She was exceedingly polite. She took it, rolled her eyes, and declared her appreciation for the fact that the bundle I'd presented was a modest one. She popped it into her fridge and shut the door quickly. Out of sight, out of mind.
I haven't lost any friends as a result of my new plaything. Not yet, not that I've noticed. But I'll have to be careful whom I choose to include in my homespun fun. Not everyone is enchanted by curly, twirly zucchini strings.
Besides, I've found it quite challenging to hunt down zucchini of userfriendly proportions. They have to be sturdy and straight to feed smoothly through the machine. Unfortunately, most zucchini that come my way are hooked and crooked, quite unsuited for the fancy footwork this über-modern appliance demands.
I have subsequently put the spiralizer magic to work on a potato, a chubby Russet that, transformed into long spirals and tossed in olive oil, turned into a starchy, half-baked tangle in the oven.
Maybe I'm doing something wrong. Maybe I should simply give up on zucchini entirely - it doesn't appear to have a very large following. And maybe potatoes are best mashed after all.
On the other hand, it could be that my newly acquired kitchen gadget is the product of some deranged mind and was never meant to be taken seriously in the first place. I may have to give it away.
Any takers?
