Goggle free onion action thanks to Pampered Chef

Fancy a go with my chopper? (blush)

'Oh I'm definitely having one of  them,' she said, 'I can stop wearing goggles.'

Actually, I think from the description, it was more of a snorkel mask, but anyway. Whatever it was, it wasn't a standard kitchen utensil.

Now, you hear of this kind of thing but I never, honestly, thought it was true; resorting to goggles when chopping onions.  It's just at the far end of being plausible. I need to get the tea on, but before I do, where did the kids put the goggles after the Saturday swimming lesson?

Logically you need the Pampered Chef food chopper but anyway...back to the story.

Reeking of swimming baths you twang a pair of hideously tight goggles over your face, carefully adjusted just last week for an eight year old, which now push your eyeballs out alarmingly.  Disorientated, you now look at the world which seems smaller than it did two minutes ago with not absolutely everything in your vision and do the only sensible thing - grab a really sharp knife.  Undeterred by the fact that the only way you can see anything is to lean backwards at an angle, whilst standing as close to the kitchen bench as possible you now start onion chopping.

I mean, did  you really think this through? Half blind and machete-ing your way through root vegetables?

The goggles, perfect for a belly-flopping eight year old, have now significantly reduced blood supply to the side of your face and breathing is at best only available through your now wide open mouth.  Concentration levels are now at such a peak you've not realised that the tip of your index finger is almost certain to be part of the chilli con carne you're preparing because you failed to notice...

a) the pain in said finger
b) small river of blood
c) the fact that you can see less and less to be fair, because you hadn't accounted for the fact that the goggles would steam up in the warm kitchen.

And yet when the husband carries out his vigorous tree pruning outside you bellow at him, because 'he'll have somone's eye out, with that thing.'

Wrenching off the goggles which have left a perfect goggle-shaped outline around your face skin, you're now aware you've been dribbling ever so slightly from your gaping mouth, partly due to the heightened concentration levels. Looking down at your handiwork, you're surprised, not for the first time time, that you haven't got the finely chopped onion all the TV chefs seem to manage.  Instead you've got wierd big chunks because, of course, everything seemed so much smaller through  steamed up lenses.

Science bit:
1. When you cut the onion root it releases an enzyme.
2. That enzyme reacts in the rest of the onion to release a gas.
3. When that gas combines with water, it creates an acid.
4. If that water is in your eye, you have acid in your eye. That makes you cry.

Several ladies asked for further demonstations of my P Chef chopper at my last cooking show.  And of course, it's always incredibly amusing to ask a bloke if they can use his chopper.  It was over an hour into the demonstration, but they got there in the end. 'Oooh - shall we leave you two to it..?'  (Cue sniggering and discreet blush). Excitment over, they bought armfuls of the thing, I'm pleased to say.

It is extraordinarily efficient, even a slippery morsel of smoked salmon destined for a tartlet gave way to my chopper action (you see, you've got me started now - I'm half expecting Sid James to appear - Carry on Pampering.)

Nuts, mushrooms, cooked meats all succumb to the blades and the dishwasher does the rest.

And the woman featured at the start of this tale can now look forward to less hazzardous veg preparation and less facial disfigurement.



PS.  If your interested in finding out more, just contact me as ever at mikegetscooking@gmail.com and why not join this blog?  You can 'join' the page via a button on the right hand side or follow me at facebook.com/mikegetscooking