I'm not the kind of cook who needs expensive kitchen tools.
This one wouldn't be a Thing I Love, except for the story. I love it for a special reason. It came from Paris.
My friend Kay and I bought garlic presses on the trip we made after our first stay together in Paris during the weeks around September 11, 2001.
There's a long story attached to that experience, too long for a blog. Involving family and friends in airplanes, in Washington DC, in New York. All petrified when they couldn't get in touch with me or my husband. Finally finding me, finally sending emails, cheering us up with reminders to have Berthillon ice cream and long, beautiful walks.
That story had a happy ending. But Kay and I had sad memories. So as soon as we could, we went back to Paris. We revisited our apartment and our internet cafe, the museums, the patisseries. We found garlic presses. They are pretty amazing, for a kitchen tool.
Now, every time I use this, I think of Paris. The memories are very happy now.
This may seem like a frivolous post about a garlic press. Really, it's about more than gadgets, or even Paris.
Related Post: September 11
2 comments:
SOunds like there are many stories behind that garlic press...as there are stories behind many things in our lives. I guess that's why they call us writers. Carol Baldwin
Carol, I looked back over my many Sept. 11 posts just now and saw this comment.
So true.
Thanks for visiting- 3 years ago? We've been cyber-friends a while!
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