I sat at the table in the kitchen, mixing a concoction of several different cheeses with this spoon-knife device I found in one of the drawers. Having been cooking all day, I couldn't find any extra wooden spoons or ladles and stumbled on it as a last resort. All of the silverware was in the dishwasher, which was busy churning at the moment, and Pam had an arsenal of measuring cups and spoons near her as she stood near the counter, mixing and baking.
I was feeling pretty chuffed at the discovery of this spoonknife, a name I created. It cut and mixed things, all in one, like those as seen on TV devices. It also had the allure of mystery about it. I've never seen this thing in my kitchen before. Clearly it stumped other people before and was left alone. Clearly I broke some code. This spoonknife was going to revolutionize how we cooked in my household!
“I’m using this spoon knife, you see,” I proudly informed Pamela, who looked up from the recipe on her MacBook to see what exactly I was bragging about.
I was feeling pretty chuffed at the discovery of this spoonknife, a name I created. It cut and mixed things, all in one, like those as seen on TV devices. It also had the allure of mystery about it. I've never seen this thing in my kitchen before. Clearly it stumped other people before and was left alone. Clearly I broke some code. This spoonknife was going to revolutionize how we cooked in my household!
“I’m using this spoon knife, you see,” I proudly informed Pamela, who looked up from the recipe on her MacBook to see what exactly I was bragging about.
She laughed, looking at me and then the device in my hands. “That’s a peeler George," she said, breaking the news as gently as an older sister could, with much teasing and laughing and threats to bring this to Facebook.
I pulled out the curved knife with teeth on the edges and the
raised center. It didn’t look
like any peeler that I'd ever seen.
“Oh. I thought it was some
sort of spoonknife,” I explained. I held it up for her to study, explaining its features, which led to my mistake, also thinking that she was mistaken. A peeler? Come on. Even Columbus was misled when he discovered America.
"No," she disagreed slowly, as if I were a child. I still held it up for her to see. "No," she repeated, deadpanned, patronizing, "that's just dumb." Then under her breath, "honestly!"
I shrugged it off, still holding the spoonknife in my hand, and I dipped the spoonknife back into the cheese mix with a little less zeal than before. It was working just fine at least.