When it comes to buying stuff, most of us have a weakness.
I have some friends who have a real weakness for books, others can’t help buying handbags, and some of my friends have to purposefully avoid the Lego store because temptation proves too much.
For the longest time, DVDs were my shopping Achilles heel, until the likes of Netflix rendered my habit redundant.
These days, I cannot resist buying bits and bobs for the kitchen, which probably doesn’t come as much of a surprise. It’s a dangerous game, not only because I’m trying desperately to get on the minimalism bandwagon, but because there’s a never-ending list of really useful kitchen gadgets and gizmos.
The problem is, that there’s an equally long list of extremely un-useful kitchen gadgetry that, realistically, few people would ever need.
With a level head, the lines between the practical and the just plain unnecessary aren’t that unclear, but in the throes of a buying frenzy, every gadget, utensil, and serving platter is fair game.
In the heat of the moment, it’s easy to lose sight of what will truly be useful and what will ultimately end up on a shelf only to become smothered in grease and dust for years to come.
Most of my favourite home-cook mentors have noted that there’s an infinite amount of equipment for the kitchen and have managed to drill down to one list of basics compiled of only of the absolute necessities.
The trouble is, there are discrepancies between any cook’s list of must-haves, because every home cook, accomplished and aspiring alike, works differently; what’s useful to some is worthless junk to another.
And of course, this only spells trouble for me, seeing as I’m compelled to purchase every essential item I’m currently missing.
Thankfully, my dwindling bank balance keeps me in check for the most part, but I’ve also managed to navigate a path through this culinary minefield whenever temptation strikes:
I make a mental note of the items that would come in really useful as and when I need them.
I must emphasise the importance of this being a mental note because I am absolutely terrible at remembering things. (I realise that’s in direct contradiction to what we’re trying to achieve here, but stay with me).
If I make the mental note on a recurring basis, i.e. there are several instances when I notice that this same item would come in handy, I eventually get so frustrated with myself by not having whatever item it is, that it etches itself into my mind and I eventually acquire it.
Here’s an example; I use Maldon Sea Salt flakes when I’m cooking (I know, dahling). Until recently, I used to stick my grubby little mitt directly into the packet to salt food as I cooked. This was terrible for more reasons than I’m going to detail here, but foremost because the cardboard box became withered and greasy and my hand kept getting caught in the inner plastic bag.
So, I transferred the salt to a small Kilner jar with a lid. Why? Because my doggos are the hairiest little monsters on the planet and it doesn’t matter how many times I clean and vacuum the kitchen, their crinkle-cut hairs float about my house and find their way into absolutely everything.*
*Don’t let that put you off coming to my house for dinner.
While the lid kept the dog hairs out, lifting and replacing the lid every time I wanted a pinch of salt developed into in irrationally huge frustration, so much so that I was driven to get a salt cellar.
Because the salt cellar is cleverly designed to keep the salt dry and prevent contamination from dog hair or any other nasties that might be floating about, there’s no need to faff about with a lid – for me, it’s the ideal solution.
If you don’t cook with salt flakes and/or don’t have the world’s hairiest dogs living with you, you might have less of a pressing need for a salt cellar.
To conclude, this proves my very non-scientific equation: in order to justify acquiring a new item for the kitchen, one has to first become so frustrated by not having it in the first place, that it becomes a necessity.
Coffee and Mediocrity 