Friends, I have two confessions. The first will come as a great surprise to you. I beg you to sit, unless you are crossing a busy street.
It is this: I have an eccentricity. Yes.
Truth be told, and I really feel it should be, and at times like this if not at other times–mine is not really an eccentricity. It is a principle: I never buy kitchen supplies or toiletries made in China. Never. My reason is simple. I call it the “Every Other Day We Find Out Something Manufactured There is Toxic” reason.
This causes certain problems. Namely, almost everything manufactured in the world seems to come from China. They’ll disguise it by having the packaging done in Europe or the US, but the product unmasked is still made in the People’s Republic.
So when I found a chopping board NOT made in China, I rejoiced and immediately shelled out the big bucks.
Was it beautiful? Think “hideous.” But I found that if I closed my eyes, I noticed no great difference. (To test this, right now, close your eyes. Is it ugly? No! Of course, it’s not even there, but if it were, it would look a lot like this: UGLY.)
I hugged my safe monstrosity all the way home.
There, I read its informational booklet, which informed me that the board was”environmentally friendly, extremely durable and non-porous,” and also “heat resistant to 350 degrees.” Very positive. The instructions then guided me, however, not to place the board over a direct flame.
I stopped at this warning. Is the consumer expected to be THAT dumb? If I kept reading, would it warn me not to use it as a suppository, too?
The next day, I’m making spaghetti sauce, waiting for the meat to brown while I chop up veggies beside it. Only, the meat isn’t browning and the kitchen is exuding an awful stink.
The plumes of smoke rising from my chopping board–ah, did I neglect to mention I’d balanced the board on the stove?–gave me my first hint that: a) I am a moron, and b) I am precisely the moron the cutting board company was thinking of in its kind, helpful warning.
It has been several months since the debacle. I return to cutting veggies on my plates, mostly not on the stove.
And now it’s time for my second confession–too long have I kept it hidden. Friends, I really don’t see the point of cutting boards anyway. I never have.
I only really feel I need one because my mom thinks so, and to my great sadness, she is often right. However, the jury is still out on this case. Sorry, mom! 🙂