The Tank of Sharks

I go into Bed Bath & Beyond the other night, mom in tow, determined to pick out what pots and pans we'll be registering for and get the things I don't need JT for like muffin pans and crock pots and whatnot. To me, all I see is a frenzy: shelves and shelves that stretch higher and wider than I can see with three different versions of the same product taunting me with popular brands and differing prices. I didn't know the first place to begin.

Half an hour later, I have handled every pan in the store with no decision about cookware. My mom says I should register for heavy, cast-iron pots at Savory Chef because nonstick pans won't last two years and they make her want to vomit because of the screeching sound they make with fingernails during dishwashing. Do I really want to register for pans that are hundreds of dollars more expensive? I'm not convinced.

So I came out of Bed Bath & Beyond with increasing frustration for all that is nonstick, stainless steel and cast iron.

My only purchase? This trinket, the only thing I knew I absolutely had to have, no matter what JT had to say about it.


update - 01/26/09: my boss and his wife ended up buying this for us. I have taken to fondly calling him Skark because I accidentally wrote it on all of our thank you lists, thank you notes, etc. Nine months into our marriage, he appears in all of my finished recipe photos as the signature trademark, and rightfully so: he is my sous chef!