How to Slice a Mango

From Sunday’s post, you know that I’ve resisted buying a mango slicing gadget. It’s not that I eat countless mangoes, but any kitchen gadget is a temptation. I can finally be at ease with my non-purchase, for I now know how to properly slice a mango with an ordinary knife.

For more great tips, check out Lifehacker’s Top 10 Food and Drink Hacks. I can attest to the endless magic of vinegar. And I’ll definitely have to try the tip for chilling a can of Coke in two minutes.

The Aesthetics of Doing Dishes

I have to avoid kitchen supply stores, or I will compulsively browse for hours as I compare small appliance models against each other and handle every tool. My mom feels I have far too many gadgets than are necessary. Why use a salad spinner when shaking the lettuce leaves in your hands works just fine, she asks. I tout the usefulness of each item I own and boast that I don’t even have a mango pitter. After all, even though my kitchen is the largest room in my 950-square foot house, I don’t have unlimited space.

However, I sometimes dream about owning a sleek, stainless steel dish rack. More like artwork than a practical sink accessory, this dish rack can be displayed proudly on a kitchen counter at all times. I imagine the random crystal water glass, hand-thrown pottery coffee cup, or crème brulee bowl drying peacefully against its modern grates.

I’ve resisted the seductive power of this shiny bauble and have remained loyal to my rubber-coated, powder-blue dish drainer. I probably bought it about 15 years ago for my first apartment after college. After all of these years, it doesn’t even have a nick in its coating. With its diminutive size, it nestles perfectly within one bowl of a double sink and stores neatly underneath most any size cabinet when not in use. It is the perfect companion to my old automatic dishwasher that can’t handle all of the tableware and cookware I go through each day.

My many feet of open counter space already attracts too much clutter, so I prefer hiding the dish rack away when it is not in use. I don’t want to be constantly reminded of dishes in progress — dishes washed and waiting to dry, or dry but not yet put away. At any rate, my dishes are less grandiose than in my fantasy. My mismatched cutlery, ceramic coffee mugs, and huge plastic popcorn bowl would embarrass a gleaming dish drainer from some place like Williams-Sonoma.

I’ll stick with my trusty inexpensive model that encourages prompt dish washing without fanfare. Duty done, I can tuck my little helper under the sink where it belongs, next to my uncoordinated beige rubber sink liner and yellow rubber gloves (both of which aren’t nearly as hardy and have been replaced several times over the years). I see no need to upgrade to all that flash … at least for now.

Weight Watcher Recipe Cards from 1974

I was only a kid in the 1970s, but I imagine them as dark days when it comes to grocery store selections, recipes and restaurants. We didn’t have  sophisticated and adventurous palates like we do today. (Although in Minnesota, eating Lutefisk is certainly daring — and something I yet to try, despite my Scandinavian heritage.)

As proof for that decade’s ineptitude, check out these Weight Watcher recipe cards from 1974. I can see why you’d lose weight on this diet plan. Who could possibly eat this food?? The photos are wild, and Wendy McClure adds hysterical captions. One of my favorites is the Bean and Mushroom Salad. I think I should make it for Thanksgiving. A jellied salad is always a hit, and this one looks oh so nummy!