Captain of the Home Ship Enterprise.
Growing up, when we saw something on the curb that was nicer than what we had at home, we would pick it up, bring it home, and put whatever it was replacing, on our own curb back at the house.
Apparently we did this a lot because at just this side of 28 years old the habit continues. Only now I call it going to "I-SEE-A" (a parody on IKEA that helps my self esteem and makes me think I am actually shopping).
This is a new ritual for my lovely wife, and since we live in a condo community and we don't have curbs to put our rubbish out on, but rather cement pads with dumpsters situated atop, the notion takes on a less-than-savory appeal to Amy. Okay, so she is pretty much against it all together.
So when I happily announced that not only had I taken out the kitchen garbage that evening, but had found something wonderful sitting beside the dumpster and brought it back with me, the look she gave me was...let's just call it a little less than my own level of excitement for the object.
So what was it? It had appeared to be an old insulated water jug, but after closer inspection and a wipe down, I found it to be something much, much cooler (no pun intended). The stainless steel badge on the front said it was an "ACME SUPREME JUICERATOR".
White baked enamel finish on a cast iron base with red accents, and more chrome than a Harley Davidson convention. I have a desk fan that makes more noise than this thing due to about a dozen soft rubber feet that dampen all excess noise and vibration. Marvelous!
Well that was my version anyway. If you asked Amy she would say. "It's from a trash heap, Russell Wayne. Don't you dare put that thing in my kitchen" or "Its so big, we have a small kitchen. There is no room for it dear. We can get a juicer for our next house." (Little does she know, I have been keeping an exhaustive list of all the things she has promised me for the next house!)
So I get up the courage, build my resolve, write out "happy wife, happy life" a hundred or so times on my chalk board, and accept the fact that it was going on eBay. We really could use the money more than another tool right now anyway.
Goodbye sweet Juicerator, how supreme you will always be to me.
The next weekend we had two quarts of juicy red currants to boil down and strain the juice out of so we could remove the stone-like seeds and make some delicious jam. We were not looking forward to the added heat the stove would add to our 1100 square foot condo but went ahead in our preparations.
But wait! Luckily I had remembered to procrastinate putting the juicer up for sale.
Amy tentatively agreed to help me clean it all up, and we decided to try it out. In four minutes it was shiny clean and sanitary. In another four minutes we had our bowls, berries, and utensils prepared, our aprons and game faces on, and we flipped the switch. A whirr from the motor rose to full speed and I dropped in a generous scoop of currants.
"kehkekehkekhhkehk... splish"
The dozens of seeds hit the blades, then the strainer sides, and juice came out pouring into the bowl. "Whoa, that was fast." Another scoop, same thing. In another 7 minutes (including a pause to break down the machine and clean out the seed filter) we were done and had not only a nice big bowl of fresh currant juice, but a nice cool house as well thanks to not having to turn the stove on.
It was official. After all that resolve agreeing to let such a treasure go to the vultures and wolves on eBay, Amy says I am not allowed to sell it anymore. It now has a happy home on a shelf in our baking pantry.
Photo of the same juicer and its parts
And the jam we made from strawberries and currant juice is DELICIOUS!
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