What would Christmas morning be if Santa didn’t bring at least one new toy to play with? Afterall, unless you are quite warped, the play value in a new housecoat or pair of socks can be limited.  And so, I would like to report that this was a good Christmas for the Sorrenti family, because despite the fact that we already have enough spatulas, tongs, and kitchen paraphernalia to fill 10 households, we still found some new gadgets to play with Christmas morning.

            I long ago learned that if there was something I really wanted, Christmas provides the perfect opportunity to buy it, wrap it, and pretend it is a gift for Jordan. I’m sure he hasn’t caught on yet! The first order of business was to find that perfect set of stainless steel mixing bowls. I love my pottery bowls, don’t get me wrong, but trying to wrestle a 50-pound crockery bowl in one arm while whipping with the other requires Herculean strength. There is nothing easier to handle nor easier to clean and store than a stainless steel bowl. Rinse and stack. My back and porcelain sink already love me for it.

            The next order of business was to find Jordan a crock-pot to ensure his win at next year’s chowder cook-off. Now it may be that nothing short of pulling the plug on Jacqui Braid will accomplish this, but Christmas is hardly the time of year to contemplate such a show of bad sportsmanship.

            This new slow cooker is bigger, prettier, has dual inserts and a warming setting that our older one doesn’t. Opting to ignore the overabundance of used slow cooker cookbooks available in any used book store; I purchased a more up-to-date one. Today’s cookbooks promise glorious roasts, desserts, and even breads. In the “olden” days, slow cookers were apparently only useful for making unappetizingly coloured stews. My own brother swears that using his crock-pot he can produce a roasted chicken dinner, complete with vegetables, that doesn’t look like one of those rubber chickens comedians used to fling around. (Have you ever wondered why anyone ever found that funny?)

            Perhaps the best new toy, one even Jordan never dreamt of getting, was the 40-cup coffee percolator. Perfect for weddings, funerals, political rallies, and our neighbourhood New Year’s Eve walkabout. When I told my sister about this gift, she thought we were nuts; why would anyone ever need a 40-cupper? I asked her what she did if she had a lot of people to her place, and she nonchalantly told me that, “I just borrow my mother-in-law’s.” (Pause) “Oh!” Someone has to be keeper of the family urn!

            The January issue of Bon Appétit declared that this year, we would eschew the unique, one-function gadgets for more versatile tools; back to the paring knife and our own two hands. Thankfully, Santa’s helpers hadn’t read this issue yet, because even the stockings were filled with kitchen treats. Liam found a pickle fork that looked like something from Total Recall; you know the scene where Arnold used this frightening probe to pull the tracking device from his brains through his nostril. There were other goodies such as a rubber pad for draining and straining canned foods, an adorable lemon squeezer in the shape of a tiny bird, and a French green bean slicer. It’s hard to imagine living without any one of these items.

            Santa must have felt that I needed a break from the kitchen this year, and I don’t think I got one cooking item, or let’s say one with my name on it. I don’t recall him sending any elves to cook the dinner either, so instead of pouting about this oversight, I went shopping…in Victoria…in a store that I should be barred from. Who knew that something called “Muffet and Louisa” would turn out to be a kitchen store extraordinaire?  

            Just two days before, my son and I had been watching one of those annoying TV commercials for “revolutionary, new” kitchen gadgets. There was a “Grip and Flip” and a “Scoop and Strain.”  While Paddy thought the strainer thingy was a truly novel idea, I remarked, “Slotted spoon?” And the glorified flipper/tong was just too ridiculous to even consider.

            But, now here I was in this store, walking around clutching one of these tong thingies to my bosom, along with an adorable 3-in-one slicer/scrapper/ scooper. Whether it was the $37.00 price tag on the tongs, or Jordan’s vice-like grip on my arm, I was able to put them back. But I couldn’t give up the scooper; it was red.

            I laughed at myself a few days later when I saw the editorial cartoon in the Times Colonist. It pictured a frazzled woman arriving home with what looked like a combination pickle-probe/flipper-tong, telling her husband she had no idea what it was but it was on sale. I say to the editors of Bon Appétit and all other “sensible” folk: Bah Humbug! Happy 2005 to all.