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Humor May 2013

Future Shock in the Kitchen

By John C. Liburdi

Their next round of exchanges centered on how Martha uses gobs of lard to ensure nothing sticks to her heavy cast iron frying pans. Then Mona touted her collection of signature pans that have special coatings to ensure nothing sticks — the same material the military uses on stealth aircraft.

Our family gatherings are always wonderful events – that is, until the inevitable bickering starts between my dear, sweet Aunt Martha and my sex-bomb niece Mona. We’re all visiting at Mona’s house today, and they’re going at it again. This time it’s about kitchens — old school versus ultra-modern.

Aunt Martha explained that she’s able to cook anything on her light-green enameled gas stove, the one with handles instead of knobs to control the blue flame burners. The four-slice rack sitting atop one of the burners always produces perfect toast. Plus, the loudly gurgling percolator coffee pot, crowned with its clear glass knob, brews really great coffee right on top of the stove. She also spoke fondly of her old Kelvinator refrigerator, graced with beautifully rounded corners and colorful magnetic mementos.

The insensitive Mona scoffed at the vision of Aunt Martha’s old kitchen, saying that it ought to be annexed to the Smithsonian Institute. Mona reminded everyone about the old Formica counter tops and the kitchen table that has wobbly chrome legs. Then she loudly bragged about how her massive granite counter tops have an integrated breakfast bar, how her kitchen is loaded with stainless steel appliances that feature flat-screen video displays, and how her space-age dishwasher runs like an expensive Rolex — odd that she always insists on using Styrofoam cups, paper plates and plastic flatware.

Their next round of exchanges centered on how Martha uses gobs of lard to ensure nothing sticks to her heavy cast iron frying pans. Then Mona touted her collection of signature pans that have special coatings to ensure nothing sticks — the same material the military uses on stealth aircraft. Aunt Martha countered with the fact that she was first on her block to get a crockpot and how it allowed her to continue working in the fountain pen factory while still providing her family with delicious meals.

Aunt Martha went on, explaining how she still uses a meat grinder to make hamburger, and how she always makes cake batter using nothing more than a hand-crank eggbeater. Of course, Mona spotlighted her top-of-the-line food processor and multi-function mixer, which she’s never seen because they’re both still packed in their unopened boxes! And she couldn’t resist bragging up her double-decker microwave oven that simultaneously cooks hotdogs and heats cups of instant soup.

Aunt Martha chimed in next, endeavoring to explain what manual orange juicers and rolling pins are used for. She even mentioned home delivery of dairy products back in the day. Then Mona stupidly joked that those milkman deliveries must have been very exciting times for Aunt Martha, not to mention occasional visits from the handsome vacuum cleaner salesman.

At that point, a highly exasperated Aunt Martha declared that, using her tattered old Betty Crocker kitchen bible, she could cook circles around that bleached-blonde bimbo. Mona smirked as she held up her smartphone and said that all her kitchen appliances are wirelessly linked to her smartphone and that it has every recipe needed to create a gourmet dinner, should there ever be a need to do so.

Then, perhaps out of guilt, Mona actually began to soften a bit; that is, hearing about the old ways prompted her to ask her husband Rocky about possibly renovating their high-tech kitchen to give it a retro look. He said that 40 thousand dollars is a lot of money to spend on a spontaneous impulse. Mona fired back with the obvious question: “Rocky, how would you like our next spontaneous bedroom encounter to be, hot or cold?” Rocky turned to me and said, “Well, maybe I’ll delay purchase of that new Corvette for a year or two.”

In the middle of all this banter, we suddenly heard frantic beeping in Mona’s kitchen; then came extremely loud popping noises and a rapid series of bright blue flashes. My mind was struggling to get this eerie scene into focus. Did angry kitchen gods somehow make Mona’s appliances go totally berserk and blow up?

Then I noticed my young son sitting out on the patio; he was wearing a sinister smile as he typed feverishly on his notebook computer. It was instantly clear that he had hacked into Mona’s computer-controlled kitchen and sabotaged all the appliances.

I usually chastise my geek son when he steps out of line, but the sight of Mona bitterly weeping on Aunt Martha’s shoulder gave me pause for thought. Although I don’t normally condone spiteful vengeance, perhaps I’ll just chalk this one up as a bone fide case of poetic justice. Way to go, son!

 

Liburdi's recent book "Italian American Fusion: Italy's Influence on the Evolution of America" is available at on-line bookstores and the Kindle Reader.

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