Editors Note: Oh, Ashe. Although she only knows how to make Meat Pie and cheese fondue, we love her anyway. And, when you see our fab new logo soon, send praise (and freelance work!) her way.
Ok, my first blog entry…
A review of the waste-of-space, pepper-dancing fajita maker that sits collecting dust in our shoebox of a kitchen, only there to make reaching for a useful cutting board or mixing bowl a difficult endeavor.
Retrieving this horribly cumbersome “grill” in our cavernous black hole of a kitchen is a death sentence. There is a delicate balance in which items can sit; one false move means a treacherous collapse of potentially dangerous cookware.
I’m sure the fajita maker is a wonderful apparatus, but I have yet to experience its splendor. (When I do so, I’ll be sure to post a recipe.) So it sits, waiting to one day bring about the downfall of our one precarious cupboard shelf, along with my newly inherited, antique mixing bowls.
I’m no chef, or baker, for that matter, but I have somehow managed to use my rolling pin (trying to forget those unbelievably tasteless sugar cookies) more than I have used the “fajita maker” — and I’m never one to turn down a Tex-Mex meal.
We inherited this monstrosity from our friend Brian, because, shockingly, he couldn’t even fit it in his giant truck when he moved to NYC. Apparently it was a nice present from his mother, so he “wants it back” eventually… hint, hint – Brian, your fajita maker is calling.
Title: Gansie — Led Zeppelin anyone?







