Ode to a Spatula

For years (or at least the two we've been writing this blog) I've lorded my lack of bona fide cooking equipment over Rachel. Yes, she of the gigantic, semi-professional KitchenAid stand mixer can make good pie crust, etc. but is she really sure it's not at least somewhat related to the equipment? I mean, could she really make tasty pie crust using a fork the way I do (badly I admit)? HA!

But since writing this blog and reading a ton of other cooking blogs and interviewing cookbook authors and reading more cookbooks than is probably normal (not to mention foodie magazines), I've got to admit I've been wondering if maybe, just maybe, having some equipment might be okay. I mean, do I really have to recreate the 19th century when I cook?

So last Christmas I asked Santa for — and received! — my little Cuisinart and I have been an electrical chopping wizard ever since. It is simply one of the best devices ever.

Which leads to my spatula ode. For decades, I stirred, sauteed, and scraped bowls with this spoon or one of its 5 siblings.


I didn't realize what I was missing until the day I decided to buy this little Sur La Table spatula last year. (Yes, last year. I bought my first spatula when I was 56.)

It was a life changer. Suddenly I could actually scrape a bowl clean. It was a minor miracle.

Until my birthday this year when I received THE spatula.


It is aptly called Spatulart because it really is a thing of beauty. Not having a handle means it's easier to manipulate, making scraping a bowl even easier. I could probably use this baby and make it look like the bowl hadn't even been used yet, it scrapes it so well. Added benefit? One side helpfully lists liquid measure equivalents while the other side lists dry. Can't remember (or more likely never knew) how many tablespoons are in an 1/8 cup? Not to worry. Spatulart has the answer. (two).

I am in love.