Don’t Let Me Loose in a Kitchen Store: Useless Items I’m Not Sure Anyone Actually Needs but That I Desperately Want

by sassandbite

One of my hobbies is browsing fancy stores like Sur la Table and Williams-Sonoma for interesting and brightly-colored gadgets that I have little to no use for. And whose usefulness to anyone is questionable at best. There’s a lot of really cool stuff in there that I covet because it would improve my life, or at least my cooking snobbery — like this giant cupcake-shaped cake pan:


It’s dramatic, slightly impractical, has endless pretty potential, and it’s just a little too much — therefore I must have it. It’s basically my thought process for everything I encounter: I don’t technically “need” it, but really, I kind of do. Who’s to define “need”, after all? It will elevate my life.

“Yes I need this Italian-made, spring-loaded ravioli press with a beechwood handle. I’ve never actually made ravioli, but I totally should. And I wouldn’t dream of doing it with some non-spring-loaded press like some sort of peasant, that would truly be ridiculous”.


Of course I need a $300 heirloom quality champagne saber handcrafted by French master cutlers. Given my history of nearly blinding innocent bystanders and denting walls just by opening bottles by hand, this could do wonders. It’s practically a safety issue. The only thing less dangerous than letting me open a bottle of champagne with my hand and a towel is giving me a sword to do it with.”


It would be irresponsible not to.

“Absolutely I need a jalapeño corer. What am I supposed to do, keep using some bougie knife to cut them open? Nay. I’ve suffered through that for far too long”.


“Obviously I need a gourmet whip injector for filling my pastries and also apparently poultry if I feel like it. In fact, I’m not even entirely sure how I’ve managed to live this long without one.”

img4oLet’s be honest, a large part of the appeal of that last one is the fact that it sounds like sketchy drug paraphernalia.

Regardless, this is why I need to have adult supervision when I’m within a 100-foot radius of a kitchen store.