Category Archives: Cooking

Cooking hardware that makes a difference.

The Presto Belgian waffle maker

No mess, great waffles.

For an index of cooking articles on this blog click here.

Apart from the fact that it has some of the worst weather in Western Europe and that its ‘impenetrable’ Ardennes Forest is invaded now and then by Germans en route to the delights of Paris and champagne, Belgium really is not famous for anything. Unless it’s Belgian waffles that is, the thick and crunchy type that better greasy spoons serve with lashings of whatever pleases you. Well, all those unelected Brussels bureaucrats have to have some joy in their miserable lives, I suppose, while dictating silly rules about milk and cheese to the masses of sheep they rule.

My old waffle maker, now having seen some two decades of service, is on its last legs and few machines in the home have given rise to so much bad language. No matter how carefully I measure the volume of waffle mix it will randomly overflow leaving the most awful mess to clean up. And now the heated surfaces have started sticking to the waffle, making removal an exercise in frustration. So replacement was called for.

There are more waffle makers on Amazon than crooks in Congress and prices range from under $30 to $300 or so for home models, much more for commercial duty ones. After sifting through the reviews (I only read the one star ones as no one is likely to be paid to leave those) I settled on the Presto flip type. First, it makes really thick Belgian-style waffles which hold your maple syrup well. Second, there’s only one thing, maybe two, to go wrong. A heating element can fail or the hinge might break. I can’t comment on the likelihood of the first, though the hinge seems robust enough. Yes, there’s a small digital beeping clock but it is unconnected to anything and is battery powered. No microchips or electromagnets in sight. There is not even an on-off switch. Plug it in, pull the plug out.


The Presto Belgian waffle maker. Click the image to go to Amazon.
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The Presto Corporation was founded in 1905 in Eau Claire, Wisconsin where doubtless many of the workers were sired by Germans with invasion minded intentions. This was back in the day when America actually made the world’s best home appliances, ones to be used and repaired, not used and disposed of. Now, of course, their products are ‘Designed in America’, just like your iPhone, and also made by slave labor in some hell hole in China. Oh well!

How does it work? Very well indeed. If you use exactly one cup of waffle mix, ‘blobby’ not runny, it will not overflow and yes, the waffle looks almost as good as the one on the box cover. Mine came out very evenly toasted on both sides. You flip the maker after the mix has been poured and the lid closed, which Presto claims is the secret to the waffle’s evenness. Reviews suggest never to use any oil or spray on the ceramic surfaces (no Teflon here, no poisons) and to simply wipe the surface with a damp cloth when you first open the machine. After a 3 minute warm-up, when the red light goes out, I found that 3 minutes with Aunt Jemima pancake mix is perfect, the beeper going off the first time when one minute remains and a second time (5 times!) when the waffle is done. Measured with an infrared thermometer the heated platens return 395F. The timer does nothing but beep. It does not turn the power off. That’s fine with me. One thing less to fail.

Update June 13, 2025: For a far healthier waffle using amaranth flour and avocado oil, click here.

Some suggest flipping the irons over part way through the bake, but that makes no sense as the mix will have stiffened by then. I tried it with and without part way flipping and there was no difference. The waffles are perfect. Release is easy, no tools needed. Crisp outside, tender and fluffy inside. One makes for a very filling breakfast. The irons can be locked in the upright position for compact storage. The plastic upright lock is a tad fragile, so take it easy. But the design is ingenious as you can store the maker vertically, which takes up little space in the pantry.

Some comments on Amazon state that Presto does not stand behind its product and that warranty claims are a waste of time, so you have been warned. This is a disposable appliance.

Presto has handy recipes here.

I made the maple pecan waffles in that recipe of theirs and they were excellent. By the way, the thickness at center is 1 1/8″. This is a serious waffle.


Click the image for the recipe.

Recommended.

The side-cutting can opener

A better mousetrap.

For an index of cooking articles on this blog click here.

‘Nerd’ is a derogatory term used by the incurious to describe anyone with an inquiring mind. My friends tend to be nerds. Call me one and I want nothing to do with you for yours is a second rate mind. I have the same contempt for users of this noun as I do for people who tell me they cannot set the clock on their electric gadget. Can’t they read the manual?

Note that membership in my exclusive club does not dictate advanced math skills or a postgraduate degree. What it does mandate, however, is curiosity. Show me a successful person and I will show you one who is curious.

As someone who graduated engineering school at the top of his class with ease in the study of ergonomics (we called it ‘occupational psychology’ back then) I have long been interested in understanding how machines work and also greatly frustrated how often they work poorly. So when a better mousetrap comes along, in this case a can opener, I am interested. “With ease” you ask? When something fascinates you, the design of the man-machine interface in this instance, it’s easy.

I would suggest that no commonly encountered field suffers from poorer ergonomic design than the kitchen. Few ‘standard’ tools found therein seem to even be aware of this field of engineering.

You can learn all about the history of cans and openers in this excellent Technology Connection video well presented by someone with an inquiring mind. A fine, inquiring mind.

The presenter relates, in wonderment, the fact that the side-opening can opener has never really caught on. You get that technology in some electric can openers (about as poor a dedication of engineering effort as the electric carving knife) but the humble $10 hand held device is largely unknown. Yet it is superior to the traditional design which cuts into the top of the can leaving deadly edges for your fingers and coating the cutting wheel in the can’s contents.

The design I am referring to can be had for just $10.

And if the traditional cutter exposes nasty sharp edges to your fingers, the pull-off top on cans with a key is even worse. No matter how hard I try I still occasionally cut myself on these and they invariably need great effort to remove, not to mention the need for a tool to pry the key up or risk damaging your manicure. Bad, bad, bad.

You want to get the linked model of the can opener, not the one with the L-shaped extension arm with a magnet attached. First, there is no need for a magnet to remove the severed lid. Second, that magnet interferes with the pull-open key on cans thus equipped, rendering it useless. How do I know this? Please spare me the embarrassment of answering.


No interference with the key.

The cutting wheel makes no contact with the can’s contents:


The cutting wheel.

Note that the contents of the can are nowhere near the cutting wheel.


The arrow indicates marginal contact of the
cutting wheel with the inside of the lid’s seam.

How about those rectangular sardine tins with those deadly pull-off tops?


No problem with rectangular tins.

And be assured, it is impossible – impossible! – to cut yourself on any newly exposed edge on either the lid or can after using this opener.

Few things in a kitchen are more disgusting than traditional can openers with their cutting wheels encrusted with the contents of who knows how many cans past. And that legacy, replete with bacteria, is waiting to infect the contents of the next can you open. Yes, I always washed mine, but really, that should not be necessary in a properly designed tool.

Drawbacks? Because you are cutting through one layer of a seam which is considerably thicker than the surface of the lid (check the video), the torque required to turn the cutting wheel is, I estimate, three times as great as with traditional models. Meaning it’s non-trivial. No problem for me but this may be an issue for those with arthritic joints.

Secondly, because the can opener cuts from the side of the lid not through the top, you cannot see the cut as you operate the tool. Further, it’s very smooth, so you don’t get that ‘click’ at completion that you do with the traditional style of opener. So as to minimize effort, meaning you want to stop turning the handle the minute you have completed a circle, I make a note of where I have started the cut and wait for that start point to come around again.

Overall, this tool is so superior in every conceivable way I do not see going back to the traditional can opener, ever.

Rambo meets Mitsumoto Sakari

A better mousetrap.

For an index of cooking articles on this blog click here.

Five years ago I pretty much gave up on my chef’s knife and transitioned to a cleaver. You can read about that here.

The upgrade demon reared his ugly head the other day and I resolved to try a Japanese edge cleaver for even better cutting. Japanese knives are sharpened to a 12-15 degree angle, much finer than the 20 degrees used in European hardware. Better cutting, the trade-off being faster wear of the finer edge.


A new sharpening tool and a Japanese cleaver – the Rambo. Click the image.

My electric knife sharpener – check the link above – is getting long in the tooth, the grinding wheels are now well worn and you cannot replace them. You have to buy the whole thing again. Boo!

So I thought I would try the Japanese Mitsumoto Sakari sharpener which comes with coarse and fine stones, as well as a scissor sharpener. But the real secret to this tool is that the sharpening angle is adjustable from 14 to 24 degrees. As for the cleaver, it’s a non-stainless forged steel one (I borrowed it from Sylvester Stallone when he was not making Rambo XLI) for a better edge and I immediately sharpened it to a 14 degree angle. First, however, I checked the angles on the Mitsumoto and can confirm they are dead accurate, the 14 degree setting yields a subtended angle of 28 degrees, the 20 degree yields 40 degrees and so on. Nice.

I gave the Rambo ten unidirectional swipes through the 14 degree coarse sharpener, then five more through the fine and can confirm that it’s scary sharp. The hole in the blade is for your forefinger and has nasty burrs when shipped. A few seconds with a Nicholson rat tail file saw those off. The forefinger is inserted there as a further precaution against your finger dipping into your workpiece. The Rambo comes with a sturdy leather belt pouch for those occasions when you feel it’s necessary to wreak havoc outdoors.

The sharpening rods in the Mitsumoto are fairly fine so only time will tell how well they wear. At $25 you can buy five for the price of one Kitchen Chef electrical tool, so it’s not a big concern. Recommended.

As for the Rambo, I have to do a lot more butchering before passing judgment. Suffice it to say that I feel empowered – and dangerous.

Meat cleaver

A superior tool for any cook.

For an index of cooking articles on this blog click here.

Over a decade ago I extolled the benefits of a good chef’s knife, writing like many before me that it’s the key kitchen tool.

Well, for the last three years my chef’s knife has seen very little use and I prepare three meals daily. It has been replaced – nay, obsoleted – by this:




A superior tool.

This tool is superior to the chef’s knife in just about every way imaginable. The cutting edge is much further from the fingers. The leverage that can be applied on the broad-topped blade is an order of magnitude greater. Rocking the cleaver over vegetables, like onions, to dice and chop them up is trivial and safe. But as the dents in mine confirm, the last thing you really want to do with this tool is use it for hacking up bones. Yes, the steel is soft, meaning it both blunts and distorts relatively easily. I will gradually wear through my dents, but they remind me not to be silly. You never hammer this down on anything. Make noise with it and you are using it incorrectly. Want to hack up bones? Use a saw.

The blade is very thick which just helps with the impression of control and yes, it just fits the sharpening machine I have now been using happily for over a decade:




In the Chef’s Choice sharpener.

What about the Mezzaluna, you ask? After all, celebrity TV chefs are all over this tool:




An awful, single-use tool. Dangerous, too.

I have to tell you that this is one of the worst conceived single-use tools ever. First, all you can do with it is rock it back and forth on vegetables. Second, the unprotected blade will slice you up when you retrieve it from the drawer where you placed it, because it was just too large to hang on the wall.

And unlike the cleaver, it cannot scoop up chopped material for placement in the skillet (the chef’s knife’s narrow blade is also sub-optimal in this task), nor can you use it to gently crush garlic cloves to permit easy peeling – and subsequent dicing. Fughedaboutit. It’s a solution looking for a problem, strictly for poseurs. And if you think this is the right way to slice up a pizza pie, think again and get a pizza wheel. It’s nice having ten fingers ….

Brand choice for the cleaver? I don’t think it matters. Just do not waste your $100 on a costly, hard steel German one which will be hell to sharpen. Instead, get something like my $25 choice and make sure you have good sharpening hardware available. And make sure your cleaver of choice has a hanging hole in the blade, as you will want to hang it in an accessible spot. After all, you will find you are using it daily.

The cleaver rules. All I use the vaunted chef’s knife for today is to split open large melons or cantaloupes. Point in first, for safety, then rotate.

The Full English

For the Man in you.

For an index of cooking articles on this blog click here.

The ‘Full English’ denotes the traditional English breakfast, one described in great historical detail, with regional variations, by Wikipedia.

Now that I have found a reliable source for smoked mackerel kippers (thank you, Whole Foods) I serve my son a Full English monthly, though I do drop the baked beans – there’s only so much a Man can take – and Winston is no coffee drinker.

I have so many pleasant memories of the Full English.

When a young lad – I would have been 14 or so at the time – in London, I got a summer job at the Habit Diamond Tooling Company. Their byline was “Make it a Habit” and they cranked out machine tools with diamond abrasives for industrial use. I was paid some $20 weekly – this was in 1965 – and was further provided with 5 Luncheon Vouchers. The face value was some 40 cents and yes, that got you a Full English at the local ‘caff’ with money left for a tip. And yes, it was absolutely delicious. The job was incredible fun and I learned to operate a pantograph, a lathe, a mill and an industrial grinder. The lessons garnered in working class attitudes were invaluable, and the many posters of buxom, undressed women on the walls of the factory harken back to a time when men were Men and women were in the kitchen. Or naked on posters.

British Railways used to serve a Full English on their sleeper trains from London to Scotland and it was absolutely delicious also, the kippers floating in a sea of butter. This was always preceded by a gentle knock on the door from the cabin attendant who woke you with an offering of tea, inviting you to the dining car. Another great tradition recently discontinued in a cost saving measure by a nation in terminal decline. Sad. A Full English on a train hauled by the Flying Scotsman was really something, as I can personally attest. (My eldest sister was an undergraduate at St. Andrew’s in Dundee, hence the Scottish trips. Plus, I love Scotland).

When I vacationed in Scotland before immigrating to the US in 1977, the Full Scottish would add black pudding or haggis. Once when overnighting at a B&B in the western Highlands I expressed dismay to the landlady on noticing how much larger my breakfast was than that of the young woman tourist staying in the same home. “Och no, lad” quoth she “Ye have tae go oot and work”. OK.

Anyway, here’s Winston contemplating his Full English the other day:




Bringing the boy up right.
Bacon, eggs, smoked kipper, fried tomatoes, whole wheat toast and milk. No baked beans in sight.

iPhone 11 Pro image processed in Focos.