Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

My friend, Judi, visited me over the past weekend; and, as is usual with most of our guests here at River House, we hung out in the kitchen. Our kitchen is huge, inspires cooking efforts, and has a clear view of the family room if guests want to lounge there instead of stirring pots on the stove.

I don’t recall what triggered it, but at one time in the evening we opened drawers and examined all the kitchen gadgets Earl and I own. There lay the garlic mincer, the cheese grater, the lemon zester, the mini-Cuisinart, the bagel guillotine, the Alaskan ulu, the cocktail shaker, the pasta measurer, the two mandolins.

I wrote a blog almost two years ago about my mother’s frugality when it came to kitchen gadgets. She would never approve of all these single-purpose gadgets I’ve acquired when certain staples would do. It wasn’t beneath her to use a butter knife as a screwdriver or a water glass as a rolling pin. Go visit my essay titled “Quirky Kitchen” from July 15, 2004 if you want additional evidence.

So, after Judi and I finished our inventory and I realized I’d moved beyond the kitchen-knife-as-screwdriver philosophy, I wondered if my life was better. Or just more complicated. I don’t have the answer yet, except that I find I use the garlic mincer a lot, that fresh garlic is better than what you find in tiny bottles offering the dehydrated variety. I like the bagel guillotine and the Alaskan ulu too. The guillotine cuts fresh bagels in half before I toast them; and a fresh bagel is the only kind worth its salt. Frozen, pre-sliced imitations don’t compare.

As for the ulu, it’s an Alaskan Eskimo knife that cuts to the quick on fish or vegetables and meat. In some instances, it does what kitchen knives only dream of. But I still keep a complete set of kitchen knives at the ready.

I guess when all is said and done I’m leaving my Mother’s philosophy behind, even if I don’t cook that often. The thing is, when I do cook it’s a pleasure to use my zester, my grater, or my mincer. Collectively, they make the work of preparing a meal more of a pleasure than an obligation.