The Times2 Vinturi Review
Transcription
The Times2 Vinturi Review
THE TIMES Thursday December 3 2009 10 times2 6 timesonline.co.uk/foodanddrink food All I want for Christmas is a potato ricer . . . And if you insist, a wine aerator, a chestnut roaster and a £1,000 Chef Cooker, says Alex Renton, reviewing ten new kitchen gift ideas G adgets, cynics say, are what make men cook. As the owner of half a dozen different types of patented corkscrew, I am in a position to comment. Certainly there are inventions on the market that can increase the fun and reduce the labour of cooking. They are acceptable as Christmas presents. However, they should not intrude on cooking’s real delights: the joy of ancient skills exercised for the pleasure of friends and family. Fatuous gizmos have no role in the chef’s sacred art. But if anyone is wondering what to get me for Christmas, I would not say no to a Deni 4100 musical cake tray with LED slicing guide. Simply programme this little beauty with the number of slices you want, and it will turn on guidance lights to show you where to cut it. It rotates. And it plays Happy Birthday (available from amazon.com in the United States, $39.66). British manufacturers have been shamefully slow at catching on to the boys’ kitchen toys market. You have to look to the States for cutting-edge (geddit?) gadgets. I’m talking serious kit here, like a pair of digital barbecue tongs with built-in heat sensors and three types of alarm; or the talking remote oven thermometer that clips to your belt and tells you how the roast is doing up to 300ft away from the kitchen (both available in America, via the website coolest-gadgets.com). While there is no longer a notable maker of chefs’ cutlery in Britain — and a good working knife or two is the perfect present for any boy who’s getting serious with his cooking — our kitchen designers are good at the elegantly practical. I’m particularly fond of Joseph Joseph, two brothers who produce simple and cool kitchen tools with a twist that makes them a little bit cleverer. There’s a range of green and grey cooking spoons and spatulas that are balanced so that when you put them down, the business end stays off the kitchen surface. Their canny potato masher is reviewed far right. And Britain still does some interesting hi-tech stuff. My shellfish-loving wife has asked for a CrustaStun, a new device developed at Bristol University that “painlessly” electrocutes crabs and lobsters, one at a time. I have always painlessly used a pan of boiling water for this job, and the CrustaStun costs over £2,000. But I suppose you might rent it out on Boxing Day to people who have been given unsuitable puppies. Titan Multifunctional Kitchen Magician It’s just a peeler, but nothing in our kitchen this year has induced such awe or reverence as this gadget. Not even the cotecchini sausages made from our own pig, garnished with deep-fried slivers of his ear. My wife goes all Jeremy Clarkson on the subject: “Look how it will go round this carrot. It corners like a dream!” A guest tried to steal it. I don’t know why the Titan works so well, but the two serrated blades must be made from the same sort of ultra-thin steel as those microplane graters, which tend to blunt very quickly. Yet this has not blunted at all in four months of use — it works without effort on cheese, vegetables, fruit rinds, potatoes and of course the pig’s ear. Looking at the packet, I realise you might use it to shred cabbage, or grate chocolate and so on. There’s a plastic attachment to help you do that. If it had a temperature sensor and remote control, the Titan would be a contender for best kitchen gadget yet. Give it to the Army to take to Afghanistan. £10.99 from Lakeland (lakeland.co.uk) Kenwood Chef Cooker Almost 60 years ago a British designer called Kenneth Wood launched the first Kenwood Chef, introducing the British housewife (because, boys, girls did most of the cooking then — can you imagine?) to the delights of motorised blending, beating, liquidising and mincing. This classic of the labour-saving age sold ten million in its first five years: it was so influential that American car manufacturers took styling ideas from it. Kenwood has now launched a 60th anniversary tribute — the Cooking Chef, the first food processor that cooks. It is an aircraft carrier among kitchen machines — it does most of their jobs and weighs more than my five-year-old. The counter groaned under the heft of all that gorgeous stainless steel. It cooks by induction heating of the mixing bowl: the beauty of this is that you can set, and get, an exact temperature (up to 140C) within a few seconds. This allows you to make choux pastry and meringue mix, steam vegetables or cook risottos. Rather more humbly, we did perfect scrambled eggs on it, enjoying the efficient hum and clunk of the machine that made it, according to my son, sound like a nuclear reactor. That’s only the beginning: if you utilise all its accessories you will be making pasta, stuffing sausages and milling grain as well. It is, in short, the perfect gift for the cook (male cook, says my wife) who has everything, enabling him to get rid of nearly everything else. Is it worth nearly £1,000? Well, as Kenwood points out, in terms of proportion of average salary, it costs less than did the first Chef, at 19 shillings in 1950. And it does things that your grandmother would not have dreamt of. It will be interesting to see if it takes off — there’s probably an accessory for that, too. £995 from John Lewis (johnlewis.com) Poach Pods These are clever little silicone rubber pouches that take the swirl and sweat out of poaching eggs. They sit in the boiling water, and each one contains the egg while it cooks. My wife, who loves her eggs Benedict, bought them and uses them. I’m not so sure: I rather miss the mozzarella texture of an egg that’s had to undergo emergency rescue from the furious waters. But they are cute. £4.88 for two, Lakeland (lakeland.co.uk) The Good Grips brand makes specialised kitchen tools with large, rubberised handles. They’re chunky and good-looking, but I’ve owned a couple that lost their handles after a while. The best kitchen gadgets — like the curved chopping knife that I bought on Portobello Road 20 years ago — last until they’ve eroded enough to fit your hand alone, and beyond. But Good Grips’ clamp-action potato ricer is a joy if you are obsessed with the quest to make perfect mashed potato. For me that is lumpless and uniform, but not a glutinous purée. What I like about this shiny gadget is the speed at which it works and the brilliantly smooth results. It’ll be great for the bashed neeps come Burns Night, and you can use it to mash fruit and other vegetables for baby food. £22, John Lewis, Lakeland Joseph Joseph Smasher Children love recipe books: they let them take charge of the chemistry experiment that is part of a good kitchen adventure. I still treasure The Usborne First Cookbook, whose stained and crusty pages tell the story of my son’s early attempts at pancakes, fudge and spaghetti bolognese. Fiona Bird’s box set of 40 wipeable illustrated recipe cards are jolly and sensible: she chooses foods children actually want to eat (fruit jellies, home-made baked beans, chocolate brownies) and provides some interesting exotics that we will try: a dal (lentil stew) flavoured with orange, ginger and cinnamon; a simple vanilla ice cream that doesn’t need an ice-cream machine. No meat, so for my attempt to get the children to make their own sausages we’ll have to go back to Jane Grigson. £15 (£9.20 on Amazon), published by Barefoot Books Potato mashing is a pain — it’s hard work with a fork, and if you use an electric wand or a blender you’re likely to overmash the spuds, producing glue. Hand mashers are OK, but they are usually metal, which will ruin your non-stick. This one, from the groovy British kitchenware designers Joseph Joseph, is plastic and clever: springloaded so all you have to do is pump it. In fact it is so much fun you can get small children to mash your potatoes for you. But to get a perfect, restaurant-grade mash, there’s nothing to beat the Potato Ricer (see opposite). £12 from John Lewis, Lakeland and others The Paul Smith for Evian Limited Edition bottle Antony Worrall Thompson’s Breadmaker Good Grips potato ricer Kids’ Kitchen recipe cards You may sneer — who needs a breadmaker with Chef Wozza’s name scrawled on it? But this one is a step up from the Panasonics most commonly seen in the kitchens of converts to these wonderful and pleasurable devices. This one, from the British company Breville, has a longer timer facility — you can set it 13 hours ahead of breakfast — and programmes for making pizza dough, cakes, and even jam, as well as the usual range of loaves. It will stay warm, in case you forget to take the bread out. And it has a seed dispenser and a window, so you can see what is going on inside. I found the loaves to be lighter than the bricks that usually emerge from my old Panasonic. With a wattage/time meter I tested the breadmaker machine against my oven on a baking setting: I reckon the breadmaker uses a fifth of the electricity. The only letdown is an inadequate recipe and instruction book. £99.99 from Argos or amazon.co.uk The Vinturi Essential Wine Aerator Gadgets that tell you they are “essential” never are, but the Vinturi is a neat thing. It’s an update of the curved wine funnel through which people used to decant reds — a practice you rarely see now. This is foolish, because an airing will improve most red wines. The American makers claim that this funnel, by drawing air into the stream of wine, will improve bouquet, flavour and give a smoother finish as the wine goes into the glass. No need for a decanter. “It tastes like a richer, more expensive wine.” We blind-tested it on a couple of bottles of good-quality shiraz, both fairly recent vintages, and the wines certainly tasted different from the same wines poured straight from bottle to glass. I liked the Vinturi enough to get one for my dad this Christmas. Around £30 from Amazon and other websites This is the silliest thing in food and drink I’ve come across this year. It boasts that the Paul Smith stripes are printed with organic ink, but the bottle isn’t even reusable. The fast-track-me-to-Pseuds’ Corner press release says it all: “The style of a design icon and the youthful spirit of Evian have merged this season to create a vivacious bottle for the festive holidays. Known for his sense of fun and optimistic attitude, Paul Smith has partnered with Evian to launch a new Limited Edition bottle that signifies energetic youth and style — a welcome alternative to the dark tone of winter.” Just as silly, you suppose, as anyone who still insists on importing their drinking water. £3.99 from “leading luxury lifestyle retailers” (eg, Selfridges) River Cottage chestnut roaster Nothing innovative about this at all. In fact, I’ve never seen one for sale except in an antique shop. But a crucial tool, if you want to roast chestnuts over an open fire this winter. Cast iron, with a handle long enough to avoid getting scorched, or sprayed by chestnut shrapnel.Woodfire-roasted chestnuts are a world better than pre-cooked or even oven-baked ones — but if you want to speed up the process you can boil them for five minutes first. (For more chestnut ideas, see Shortcuts on p13.) £21 from the River Cottage online shop, rivercottage.net