Goodbye, hand mixer

Brian wrote on 03/17/2009 at 23:42 from (47.683479, -122.266725)

As kitchen appliances go, your presence in my life was fleeting. Our fling was special, though, even if it was brief. We made magic together, you and I.

I'd love to say that it was love at first sight, but I'd be lying. I'd like to say that you grew on me, but that would be a lie, too. We were a one-time hook-up, and there's no denying it.

But oh, the sweet mess we made that fateful night...

It was just you, me, six pounds of cream cheese, some butter, some eggs, some flour, a little vanilla, and a whoooooole lotta sugar. I'll never forget how easy it was to turn you on. Everything you touched got beaten until it was creamy and smooth. You whipped and whirled and spun with an energy I could barely control.

You were fast, baby -- too fast for me.

To be honest, I was intimidated by your dominance and vigor. Perhaps I was inexperienced or maybe I just expected something a little more subtle and a little less raw. Whatever it was, I didn't feel right afterwards. I decided to lay you to the side that night and go back to beating by hand. Sure, it takes longer and my wrists are sore afterwards, but there's so much less cleanup, less worry, less hassle.

It's what I know, and I'm not too macho to admit that I dig the control.

Perhaps when I've gotten a little older and more confident -- when I've learned to appreciate your passion and noise -- maybe then we'll pair off and make something sweet and hot all over again. For now, though, you remain a force I could never fully subdue, and I could do without the sound and fury.

Adieu, hand mixer, and thanks for all the cheesecake.