I need to procure a new frying pan. The non stick has finally given up the ghost on our most current one and now begin weeks of sniffing around the kitchenware sections of various shops in an attempt to find a new one which promises to neither stick nor warp with use.
So many years, so many broken promises. I always start the relationship with a new Frying pan in the giddy excitement of a new romance. After many days or weeks of searching I have finally discovered a pan which promises to last for ages & which will not warp or prove unworthy of my commitment.
I marvel at how awesome the non stick is as I return to cooking all the meals that I hitherto was forced to avoid in the old pan.
But then, over the weeks and months that follow, my affection slowly cools and the excitement of a new relationship is replaced by the mundane grind of normal life. The pan; rather than being the focus of exciting new recipes, becomes taken for granted and has to churn out endless omelettes, fry-ups and scotch pancakes.
After the twelve to eighteen month mark I start to notice visible signs of aging and deterioration which I immediately go into denial about. 'no no, it's a great pan. I took ages choosing it. It will surely go on and on'. But in my heart of hearts I know that this is the beginning of the end and I am already starting to cast furtive glances at other frying pans when we are out in town. Embarrassingly having to slam my laptop shut when my wife comes into the room for fear that she will see my internet history and realise that I have once again been looking at pictures of younger frying pans.
Eventually the pan is incapable of managing even the most rudimentary meals shredding & destroying rashers of bacon entrusted to it's care. After the second or third meal is transformed into a shoddy, shapeless mess; I come to my senses and declare that the relationship isn't working and that I need to start looking around for another frying pan that can meet my needs. And the adventure begins again.
This would all be well and good were it not for the fact that I appear to have great difficulty in actually throwing the old frying pans away. Perhaps it is due to all of the emotional investment that I have put into finding it. Or to the memory of all those great meals that it faithfully produced over the years. But when push comes to shove, and I am left holding it over the dark open depths of the wheelie bin; I find that (like Frodo Baggins) I just cannot bring myself to let go.
So it goes into the shed with my other dead frying pans and I tell myself that I will be able to find some use for it in the future (perhaps on a camping trip where I will be cooking over an open fire or as part of a hastily constructed suit of armour in the event of zombie apocalypse).
This cycle has been repeating every 12 to 20 months so that I now have a not inconsiderable, stack of frying pans. All of which I feel some level of emotional attachment to. This must be how hoarders feel about all of their crap. Perhaps this is how it starts? Too much of an emotional relationship with cold unfeeling objects. Just not feeling able to let go. I have previously written of my tendency to hang onto dreadlocks, teeth and even beard clippings. This is a personality bent that I need to stamp out hard before I become a full time hoarder of bent screws or something!
On the other hand, I do quite like my pile of frying pans. My wife discovered it the other day (on an unauthorised trip into my shed. How dare she!). She demanded that I throw some away which I duely did. She does not have any difficulty in parting with old crap. There is clearly no emotional component there for her, whether it is getting rid of an old and faithful car or a previously loved sweater, she turns her back and moves on without ever giving it a second thought.
What I would really like to do if I am honest, is to continue to collect frying pans (I have given up on ever finding one that lives up to it's claims of a lifetime of stick free cooking). I would like to collect a big pile of them which could then be disseminated to the mourners at my funeral.
'Hello sir. Attending the Gasson ceremony today are we? Please take this Sainsbury's finest range 20 inch deep pan non warp model. Hello madam. You too? Please take this Tefal 18 inch red spot non stick deluxe'.
Then people could throw them onto my coffin whilst they bid me farewell at the graveside. It would be a bit like the ancient pharaohs who got buried with all of their old crap. Maybe pyramids were just the afterlife equivalent of 'the big yellow storage box company' when all is said and done. Imagine the clatter and clang at the grave side as the accumulated lifetimes worth of frying pans are reverentially chucked on top of the coffin together before being covered in earth. Or maybe I could get them all melted together 'game of thrones' style into a custom made, non stick coffin. A Teflon coated Bier in which to travel to the afterlife.
In any case, the hunt is on for an exciting new frying pan and there is a place in my kitchenware mausoleum for the current incumbent. Hopefully my wife will stay out of the shed in from now on following my dire warnings about using the 'wrong sort of paint'.
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