The Manic Mechanic

We had a busy weekend, Jeff and I. I had planned on doing more yard work but I needed to fix the car, plus I ended up doing a lot of work on a friend's car as well. Jeff did work outside and around the house, plus made a nice dinner of baby back ribs on the grill which we ate outside in beautiful weather. Sunday rolled around and I was able to to some more stuff outside, having to take time and pull the carburetor off one of the lawnmowers because it was acting flaky from dirt inside. Jeff made a pot roast, searing it first and making the house smell wonderful before braising it in the oven. I was still outside doing all manner of things and came in later. I walked into the kitchen to get a drink and stopped dead in my tracks. The kitchen was enveloped in the aroma of the pot roast as it was nearly finished cooking, and I was immediately hit with a flood of memories of Mom and all of her wonderful meals. I quietly bawled my eyes out for a few moments, collected myself and went along with my business. Later, as Jeff was getting dinner onto the table, I told him what had transpired earlier. He said the same happened with him, he couldn't help but think of all those meals with his family. The schmoopy feelings were good ones, of course, and I wouldn't change it for the world. Funny how my rather copious schnozz tends to trigger so many memories at the most unlikely moments. Of course, my thoughts have been drifting in that direction a lot lately, I lost Mom in June nearly 7 years ago. Last night I laid in bed staring at the ceiling and I could barely wrap my head around it being that long already. Time has indeed softened the hard edge of loss, but, just like the Sunday dinner, or the blooming of the lilacs and mock orange, or seeing pictures or hearing a certain piece of music or something else entirely, I get knocked into silence with memories pouring in.

On that subject, many of you know my fondness for Pixar movies, and everyone knows most of those movies have at least one major reach-for-the-kleenex moment. A year to the day after losing Mom, Ratatouille was released and in the theaters. Named after the dish that my mom was fond of and made a lot, I worried I might get choked up while in the theater and made sure I had a pocket full of tissues just in case. But, as the movie progressed, delightful as it was, I didn't get the usual "hit" I had gotten from most of the other Pixar flicks that preceded it. Well, that was a short-lived assumption, because the scene came up where the "evil" food critic Anton Ego is served the plate of ratatouille (as confit byaldi) and has the flashback to his youth, with his mom and all the happiness and warmth it encompassed. I absolutely lost it, and I lose it every time I see that scene. The few seconds of that flashback so mirrors how I feel in such a situation.

Sunday dinner was a feast for more than the palate.

A couple weeks ago while running errands, Jeff and I stopped at the Goodwill store in Columbia. Since the place seems to have a rather fast turnaround of items, there's always something new. I've picked up everything from a "police scanner" radio to my medical cane, all for nearly a song. This last outing I found a Champion juicer, seemingly intact and in good shape. Since I had wanted to get a juicer for quite a while now but kept putting it off because of the cost of the better ones, I picked the beast up and gave it a closer inspection. While not in it's box, it appears the unit has never been used, with the original shipping wax on the motor shaft and not a scratch on the thing. And for the princely sum of $20, I snagged it. I figure if it was not usable for some reason, I can re-purpose it as a shop buffer or something, since it's built around a 1/3HP capacitor start induction motor. When I got home that evening, I checked out the Champion website and discovered that it was missing only one piece (a blank screen for grinding/juicing without separating pulp from the juice) and the owner's manual. With the user manual downloaded and printed from the site, I thought about future uses for the thing and how my bumper crop of apples and tomatoes could be made into sauces a lot faster than with my old, hand-crank Squeezo juicer. I looked around the 'net for user reviews and other information and found that the machine has been produced in some form or another since 1955, the reviews were mostly quite positive, and that I got a hell of a deal on the thing.



Tonight I ordered up the large-hole screen as well as the missing blank. The total for these pieces, with the shipping, came to $22 dollars. More than what I paid for the juicer! Once these pieces show up, I'm going to do some experimenting. That's where my dear readers come in. How many of you use a juicer, now or in the past? What brand/type? Any suggestions, hints, tricks or recipes? Beuller?