Of Orange Monkeys and Parsnips

I get gifts. Does that sound braggish? I hope not; it's not meant to. It's not that I'm particularly deserving or anything, but I do get gifts.

For example, for my birthday my sister sent me this orange monkey to do my vegetable peeling work. It is not only an excellent peeler, it also makes me smile every time I grab the monkey around his absurd waist and go to work on carrots or parsnips.

Speaking of parsnips, these were a gift, too. At the Civic Center farmer's market, there is a stall in which the best salesman I've ever encountered (sorry, My Beloved, but it's true) holds court. He is a joyous young man, dreadlocked and smiling, with a flash of white teeth in his dark face. He presides over the freshest organic veggies in the market. His soft accent speaks of somewhere in the Caribbean and his sales technique is both assertive and comic. If I come in with fruit I've purchased in another stall (he doesn't sell fruit), he offers to weigh it for me and charge me again for it. His outrageous style always makes me laugh.

I bought some Brussels sprouts from his stand last week and asked what the "white carrots" were. "You've never had parsnips?" he asked? When I shook my head, he snatched up three plump ones and popped them into the bag with the sprouts, filling my head with descriptions of what they taste like and ideas for cooking them. "No charge!" he declared and when I demurred, he insisted. "Don't worry," he assured me, "you'll be back and then I'll charge you double!" Gotta love this guy!

As I was leaving, I spied another rooty-looking, pale green thing, which he also insisted on giving me, a watermelon radish, also new to me. See what I mean? In a single day, I was given two kinds of veggies and the means to peel them.

I get gifts - vegetal, practical and comical. Ain't life grand?

Dueling Peelers

My Beloved's daughters, knowing how much I enjoy cooking, gave me this new square peeler for Christmas this year. When I bought a nice, round, bumpy, dirty celeriac bulb this week, I decided to try out the new peeler to see if it was in any way superior to my tried-and-true style with the metal handle and if it could hold its own against a simple kitchen knife.

As I discovered, celeriac is just short of impossible to peel, no matter what kind of implement one uses. It is bumpy, ridgy, heavy, awkwardly sized and thoroughly uncooperative. However, I had made a resolution to try new foods this year and I had a delicious-sounding recipe to make with it (more about that later), so I got out my arsenal of peelers and got to work.

The new peeler shone. The knife was next to useless on this very round, grapefruit-sized, unwieldy vegetable and my old peeler kept slipping dangerously with each swipe, so the new peeler, which fits in the palm of my hand with a slip ring on top to keep it securely around one finger, worked the best. Now, I'm not saying that it was easy - that would be disrespectful to the stubbornly recalcitrant nature of the celeriac - but the new peeler was the smoothest and safest, and in no time I had a flurry of grimy celeriac flakes and a clean, white globe to show for my work.

If someone is looking for a great little stocking stuffer for you next year, I can recommend the victor in the peeler shootout.