As I mentioned last week, I’m back in class and thinking a lot more about literature, rhetoric, and the sorts. I read this poem in an introductory course during my undergraduate degree Pablo Neruda’s “Ode to an Onion” and thought it might be a fun exercise to write an ode about food/cooking. Despite me being an English major, this is just for fun, it is in no way serious poetry!
My first food processor was handed down to my by my grandmother. It was one of the old, almond coloured ones that could be both a food processor or a blender. I think she told me she had received it as a wedding gift. I was unhappy when, a few months later, the motor seized and I reluctantly got rid of it. It looked something like this one:
I splurged, and bought myself a brand new one.The blade was sharper and it worked a lot quicker. But I missed the convenience of my food processor and blender being part of the same kitchen gadget. I recently began preparing raw foods. Since then, I’ve been using my food processor more often. I find it is essential for preparing raw foods quickly.
So when my food processor fell while I was taking it out of the cupboard the other week I was devastated. I searched local stores and online, but couldn’t find a way to buy replacement pieces. I had just attended the raw desserts workshop and had so many new recipes I wanted to try at home. Until then, I hadn’t realized how much it had become part of my day-to-day cooking. It was a great kitchen gadget, and I’m happy to say that food processors were on sale over the holiday, so I now have a new one (which lives on the counter) and can continue to prepare delicious foods.
Ode to a food processor
My food processor took a great tumble
I watched in horror, helpless to stop it
On the kitchen floor the plastic crumbled
Broken plans for dessert lickety split
Shattered plastic pieces are all around
Preparing raw foods, a chore without you
Puréeing soups, not so easy to do
Conveniently chop nuts into a ground
Good bye food processor, farewell, adieu
Kitchen tool I can’t live without, boo hoo