The answer to whether one should love or hate the Dualit toaster is a debate about toast. Are you the kind of person that wants light brown and, in my view, limp toast? Or do you want dark browned, crisp toast – the kind of toast your maiden aunt told you put curls on your head? Are you a food pornographer from the 1990s? Or a locavore and a minimalist? I guess I’m all of the above. To me there’s nothing like the crunch of well done toast to keep the teeth and gums healthy and to keep the smoke alarm alert. Pretty soon after the Dualit arriving at my place, courtesy of some online shopping arbitrage to avoid the local retailer rort, the batteries were ripped out the smoke alarm. Toast was dark brown to black. The ceiling was stained. But who cared? I had a design classic in my kitchen. It was a bit like having a Phillippe Stark Juicy Salif orange juice squeezer, you know – the one that drizzles juice everywhere around and including the vessel in which you have positioning underneath it. The Dualit isn’t quite as useless at the Phillippe, though a moment of lost concentration and the contents are up in smoke. Everything about the Dualit symbolised a new life in Collingwood. It wasn’t quite style over substance, but certainly looked in place in my monochrome apartment, a whole floor of a small ‘d’ grade office on disfunctional and temperamental Smith Street. And now, having moved back south to the bright side, I’m parting with a design classic on ebay. I’m being forced to swap to something with a microchip, which still can burn toast, rather than something operating with a simple electromechanical timer and lever mechanism. The Dualit is a beautiful object, a design classic dating back to the 1950s. It is easy to repair and will last beyond most lifetimes. So go on, throw caution and perfect light brown toast to the wind and bid for this used and loved machine. And bring a bit of food porn into your life. PS: If you check out my other ebay listings I have replica Arne Jacobson table and Eames dining chairs for sale too plus a Whirlpool fridge and more.
Posts Categorized: Paraphernalia
When I arrived in my flat nearly a year ago, I brought only half a kitchen with me and had many essentials missing. I’ve been limping along with a cheffy frying pan that needs replacing and no griddle. But the early arrival of zucchinis at my plot in the Mater St Community Garden meant that I had an urgent need for a griddle before I was overwhelmed by monster vegetables. The thing is I’m in early negotiations with a sponsor to equip my new kitchen (let me know if you’d like to be one) and am pretty sure I’m going to move to induction cooking, which is ideal for a small space and gives out a lot less heat than gas. I wasn’t sure if a cast iron griddle would be appropriate and thanks to Jared Ingersoll on Twitter, I was pointed towards the amazing Oigen pans, available from Chef’s Armoury (with Key Ingredients being the only supplier in Melbourne as I write). So $120 bucks or so later I’m home seasoning my Oigen griddle. That’s right, they aren’t easy products to own. You need to seal them by frying vegetable peelings in vegetable oil three times, but for that you gain better heat gain than an enamel covered pan made by artisans from recycled materials in Japan. And it turns out they are perfect for my upcoming affair with induction cooking. I really am quite enamoured by this pan and the look of the rest of the range and I reckon (hint the chef’s pan or nabe pot, please) they make a perfect gift for the home cook, or even chef. Anyway back to zucchini, I’m an old hand at dealing with then simply griddling them and dressing them as a salad. But if you find yourself overwhelmed here are some more ideas from a few years back. Or you could make a chocolate and zucchini cake.