Sweethearts, it’s Christmas. Christmas and nuts go hand in hand like Paul Newman and his poker. Or so you think.
Think again. On my way back from the fishmongers (one of the few with just a slab, ice, and lots of fish) and happy with my bounty thrown in for free (fishheads to make stock/broth from scratch) I went to my favourite Asian shop. I do realize that Asia covers a large area – so can’t be sure of what provenance they are. All I know is that it appears only men (Asian) shop there and the shop keeper – who is very sweet and smiley in a sort of Asian distant way – seems to think me an oddity. I only bought 250 g of Walnuts. Buy a few – test – come back later. Since Asian men don’t talk much, other than “Are you sure that’s enough?”, I didn’t explain that I am a stickler for quality control. Not least with nuts. Hard shell. Excellent. But what’s inside.
Yes, nuts. So I went home, cracked one or two – and they were brilliant. Brilliant. Unfortunately – three nuts in – my nutcracker (simple design) decided to die on me. It’s all in the hinge. You know the weakest link? The one deciding factor to make your world fall apart?
I don’t like weak links. They are pathetic. I don’t know much about ‘passive-aggressive’ but I’d say weak links (not least in nut crackers) are spiteful little (BIG) ‘look at me’ shits who render you at their mercy and therefore helpless.
Yes, so whilst Atlantis still sunk and Jason and holy grails no further than when they started their quest other than a few scars on the way, today’s mission of finding a replacement for my nutcracker fell short. I won’t bore you with the detail. Hilarious as it was. The upshot being that I have an awful lot of nuts and for money, charm, love and thin air (in no particular order) a nutcracker is not to be found. Though the guy in Marks and Spencer and I came to conclusion that a garlic press might (not) be up to the job. I don’t have a garlic press, neither am I in the market for one. As any half bred Italian, Spanish and French (not to mention the Swiss) will know: You don’t press garlic. You smash it with the side of a knife.
What is this? A lesson on implements? It is, come to think of it. You know what? If you want to smash something – use a hammer. Gently. Otherways you have mash. Which reminds me: Once upon a time I had a pestle and mortar. I was attached to it – emotionally. Someone – I know who – stole it from me. Out of spite. No monetary value in it. Emotional value you can’t put a price on.
So here I am. Christmas looming. And no nut cracker. Still, there are the pacifiers: Tangerines, clementines, mandarins: Easy to peel – providing you do have a thumb.