Pinterest fans may have noticed that I’ve recently struck out in a new direction there. I’ve started a few boards, one of which contains gear I like and/or that people have given me to evaluate (so far no high-performance automobiles, but I’m trying to stay optimistic). One of the few pins that’s up there now is a set of plastic (really melamine) bowls that the good folks at Trudeau sent over a few months ago. It’s inspired a few questions, like: what’s wrong with crockery or stainless steel?
Nothing at all. Thin stainless steel is probably my preference overall, and there’s nothing wrong with crockery except that it’s heavy. Now I don’t want to sound like a lightweight or anything, but many years ago, before I ever started blogging, before there ever was something called a blogosphere (yes, kiddies, I am that old), I noticed something about my baking. Specifically, that I didn’t do much of it. I frequently wondered why, then I had a realization: my bowls. My lovely handcrafted, hand-painted, hand-crackled, authentic, artisan, Tuscan crockery bowls.
They weighed a ton, and I kept them on the bottom shelf of my cupboard in my apartment. The mere thought of wrestling those things, I realized, put a psychic damper on my baking ambitions. So I weighed them. Together the set added up to a stunning twelve pounds, which was a lot for a lazy guy to have to lift when the only reward at the end of the heft was kitchen work. So I went to a restaurant supply store and bought a set of used stainless bowls. Suffice to say it worked. I both baked and cooked a whole lot more using the light-as-a-feather bowls, and I’ve never looked back. These days I judge a mixing bowl primarily by its weight.
Whatever happened to the beautiful crockery? It’s now an objet d’art, which is what it always was, really.