When I got married twenty years ago and went through the ritual of registering at the local department store, I had no idea that you could put a list together for people to use to select your wedding gift. I guess I understood the practice in theory, but had never been on the receiving end of the tradition.
That stated, I found that I still had very little say on what went on the list. I distinctly remember lusting after a line of cookware that resembled something one might find in the tool department at Sears; strong, heavy, riveted handles, something that my grandchildren would likely cook with, if home cooking is still around in 40 years. If it had the name Craftsman pounded into the steel, I may have pushed my case a little harder. But I wanted to get married more than I wanted high quality cookware, so we put the prettier set on the list. What did make it on the list from my recommendation was a pizza pan, which I still have, and one white towel, which I think has become an oil rag or dust cloth or both. This is the subject of another blog entirely, so I won’t delve into the bit about the towel here.
I must add that someone did get us the pretty set, which we still have, but its not so pretty any longer, and while it still does not proffer me any sort of “I told you so…” status, it has given me a bit of credibility when I try and bring the professional element into our home kitchen.
Enter the Deli Cup
Tupperware falls into the “pretty” category, just like the tea towels that are appliquéd with the 12 days of Christmas that hang over the oven door handle. They look nice, but as soon as you put them in competition with something hot or greasy, their usefulness has come to an inevitable end sooner than you would like. This is to say nothing about the chastisement you will receive amidst the head and shoulders for ruining the holiday ornament you thought was a towel
The most ubiquitous item in our kitchen is the humble one quart deli cup. We buy these by the case and use them literally for soup to nuts and to store everything else imaginable.
I recommend getting your home cook a sleeve of these babies with corresponding lids and watch how much more organization will naturally occur, unless of course your home cook has slob etched into his or her DNA, for which there is no known cure.
They are cheap, reusable, disposable after a while and you never have to fumble around looking for the right lid, or ask yourself why you have 7 lids to containers that don’t exist. It’s a simple system; one container, one lid, less to think about.