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I’m becoming emotionally attached to my frying pans – am I going stir crazy?

I have three frying pans but two are really only there for use on violent intruders. I might be losing the plot …The non-meat chopping board I have used for more than a decade is awful. It is a mini butcher’s block, at least 10cm thick, half a metre long and so heavy I cannot pick it up with one hand. It will not fit in the sink to be washed efficiently. And, of course, it’s made of wood, which is never ideal. There’s probably now more culture on its surface than on a whole night of BBC Four. It is dreadful in so many ways. I also can’t imagine cooking without it.Like everyone else, I’ve spent far too much time in the kitchen recently doing a culinary version of rinse and repeat. During this marathon cookathon, I’ve come to realise that there are objects in there which aren’t just useful. They are vital to my sense of self as a cook. I depend upon them. That stupid, cumbersome, ill-thought out, much-loved chopping board is only the start of it. For example, I have three sets of tongs in my utensil drawer. I say “drawer”; I really mean “yawning maw of wretched chaos that is a visualisation of my confused inner self”. There’s a long black plastic number with tips that are incapable of gripping. There’s a springy metal set that are so short you’ll also chargrill your hand on a flame if you try to use them over the cooker.Oh, the stories that frying pan could tell. We’ve been through so much together Continue reading…