I think most of us can remember a Christmas morning like this. You wake up, sleepy but excited and head downstairs to the living room. And there it is. Red. Shiny. Everything you ever dreamed of. You can hardly believe your eyes. Santa has brought you a Kitchen Aid Artisan Mixer.
So, perhaps this doesn’t apply to everyone. But there are those of you out there who wait in breathless anticipation for the new Williams-Sonoma catalog and when it comes, leave it not so subtly highlighted and circled in case your significant other happens upon it. You know who you are. You, the one with
your plans drawn up for dream kitchen. Forget the living room, the dining room and even the bedroom. This is your space. I say, kitchen junkies unite.
Granted, actual culinary execution may provide mixed results but remember, we are talking about the dream. With my Kitchen Aid mixer, I will make that perfect cookie (or a whole nine dozen of them!) and 4.5 loaves of bread. I can picture myself (forgive me, Gloria) in that kitschy yet perfect apron as I fix a dinner of unimagined tastes and delights. Oh, how they delight. Oh, how I say it was nothing at all.
I argue again for the kitchen because it is one of true last hold-outs for Victorian sensibility. Not the “think of England” per se but the absolute frivolity of unnecessarily specific tools. An avocado peeler, a hot chocolate mini-whipper, a lemon zester, a pie pan scraper and an egg slicer. This is just the beginning. Just go to a Pampered Chef party to see what I mean. If there is a need, no matter how minuscule, someone will make a tool for it.
And I will buy it.