Consider the Cuisinart.
I found a really nice Cuisinart at an estate sale a year or so ago. Small. Just right for two people. I brought it home and stored it down with my 1939 toaster. Then I considered it a long, long time before I thought about using it. I brought all the parts out, and laid them out on the counter. Slowly I put it together and attempted to grate a carrot. There was a great silence. Nothing happened.
Even more slowly, I took it apart and put it together again perhaps thinking that in my enthusiasm I had done something wrong. Eventually, I figured out that I had the bowl in the wrong place. At least there wasn’t silence the next time, but it wouldn’t grate my carrot.
I called upstairs to my dear Geezer who came down to consider the Cuisinart. Deciding what we needed was an instruction manual, he ordered one online. Eventually, after a very long wait, it came. Even with these faded instructions in hand, we couldn’t make it grate carrots. I put it away in disgust, but the Geezer went up to research the Cuisinart as a grater. It appeared that we didn’t purchase all the parts when we bought it. G went on line this time to order parts.
After another not so many month wait, a nice fat package arrived. Inside there were little things, flat things, round things with spouts, plates with holes in the middle, and holders. We thought we were in business. I put the whole mess away, this time with the 1939 Sunbeam Mixmaster whose dulled grater had inspired me to buy this used Cuisinart in the first place.
For a while last winter, I researched summer salads. Carrot raisin salad is one of my favorites as is cucumber onion salad. There are also roasted beets with gorgonzola, slaws, chopped salads, or endless minced, sliced, or diced veggie salads. I knew I was on a roll if I could ever get the machine running.
Summer finally came, and I faced the elephant in my kitchen. I brought out all those many gathered together parts and lined them up on my kitchen counter with the instruction book. I brought out the carrots and cucumbers, washed and peeled, they waited on the sidelines. I put the machine together and pushed the button. Nothing happened. And a second time. After enthusiastic jiggling, finally the third time it worked at last but it turned the cucumber to water not slices. I was laughing at this point.
Once again, I took it all apart, rinsed its parts in hot soapy water, read the printing on the pieces, and turned one of them over. Back together, it sliced the cucumber. Like magic. The salad was done in moments. I washed the parts one more time and stuck a carrot in. Out the spout spit little carrot bits. It was very dramatic. Exciting. All over the counter rained golden carrot gratings giving everything a uniform orange glow.
I’d forgotten the bowl.