baratin debordant

The other day I posted an account of the unhappiest day of this week: my espresso machine fell out of the cabinet and hit me in the face, landed on the floor and no longer frothed milk. In the comments to that post, my cousin offered her sympathy at the loss of the Salton and quipped that she would have my aunt ask the Pink Sisters to pray. Today, the Salton frothed the milk. Just like that! Must have been the Sisters in Pink.

It is possible, of course, that it was the threat my husband made to take the machine apart and check the gasket. But I prefer to think some heavenly agent is at work on my kitchen appliances. Lord knows, they need it. My toaster is a 1948 original Sunbeam, rescued from the bowels of my parents' basement. The Oaster blender is of the same era, saved from a rusty grave and resurrected to a modern counter. It sounds a bit like a 747 taking off in the kitchen, but it blends up ice and Tequila really well. And last but not least is the 1930's Sunbeam mix-master, with two of the three original, classic white bowls. I don't mix much of anything, actually, but if I wanted to blend a cake mix or whip up icing, it would do the job.

I don't particularly like appliances. My husband wants a new toaster; a toaster oven to be precise. He's been asking for one fifteen years. Why? The old Sunbeam works almost every time. Why not? Because my mother has every appliance ever invented by George Forman, and I stand to inherit enough gadgets to fill the Smithsonian. I think George should give it a rest.

Maybe the Pink Sisters were not praying for my Salton yesterday. But it's gotten a second wind nonetheless. June 24 could be the happiest day of the year for me. I don't have to spend it on eBay bidding for espresso machines. Time to go, my well frothed espresso is getting cold.