Want

I took a cooking class at a new Thai restaurant in Raleigh several weeks ago.  Spize, the restaurant, is the brainchild of a biochemist/software engineer who also happens to be a fabulous chef.  I’m in love with the food.  I went there for lunch (by myself, because it’s such a treat) a while back, and ordered the cellophane noodle salad with grilled shrimp.  It was delicious–I need to go back and get it again, because I sometimes find myself daydreaming about it.  I ordered mine medium hot; it came with a liberal sprinkling of whole, dried Thai chiles.  Having a more than passing familiarity with Thai chiles, I knew better than to eat them.  I picked them out and arranged them around the side of my plate, pleased to have control over the level of spiciness.  Unfortunately, I missed one, and accidentally ate it.

I thought my head was going to explode.  I broke out in a cold sweat–goosebumps all over my body, while sweat poured down my face and puddled in my bra.  My lips felt like someone had scrubbed them with sandpaper.  I was fanning myself and gulping down water and mopping my face.  I actually started to worry that I might be having an allergic reaction.

Man, that was fun.  What a great lunch.

So, needless to say, when I saw that Chef Kowae was offering a cooking class, I signed right up, cackling gleefully.  I was going to learn how to make that yummy food!

The funny thing is, I came away lusting after his cooking tools.  Yeah, yeah–the meal was good, the recipes are great, but the toys!

This is what I most want.  It’s a totally limited, single-purpose, ridiculous little gadget.  But it’s so cool. You stick a raw carrot on the prongs, turn the handle, and you get a beautiful tangle of long, thin shreds.  This gadget will revolutionize the production of summer rolls at my house.  We LOVE summer rolls.  Light, cool, fat-free, bursting with flavors and textures–what’s not to love?  Also, they’re an excellent way to use up some of my crazy supply of fresh mint.

I’ve made them before, but the carrots have always tripped me up–the peeling, slivering, blanching, shocking–too much.  With this brilliant little shredder, you just turn a carrot into threads, and that’s it–no more work.

When I get this doohickey, I’ll be the summer roll queen.  Mark my words.