No, nothing to do with the current Prime Minister of Canada, who is sucking up to everyone but our cousins down south. At present if he went to see President Trump, that would be electoral suicide in the urban enclaves which gave the fop his mandate. Today’s little missive, by contrast, is about a pepper mill.
Now I use fresh ground black pepper when I’m cooking. A lot. I like the bite on my tongues midsection when cooking spicy food, not too much, just enough to give things an fine edge. To this end I purchased a pepper mill. One of those dildo-like wooden thingummies that waiting staff in restaurants threaten you with, before they sneak up on you and try to make you choke with a sudden “How is your food tasting?” Who tells waiting staff to do this? I’d like to shake them warmly by the throat. I’m actually amazed that more people don’t die in restaurants when challenged in this fashion mid mouthful.
I’d also like to know why Black pepper is treated with such faux-reverence and doled out so sparingly in some establishments? It’s a condiment for heavens sake. Bought in bulk it is no more expensive than any other kind of pepper. If I want extra pepper on my food, which if it’s cooked and seasoned properly I won’t, I will use some from the cruet selection, or ask my server / waiting staff. But not before I’ve actually taken my first bite.
Anyway, I digress. The tale of the pepper mill. Sixty plus dollars. Ten inches tall. Make, Trudeau. Inferior quality steel on the screw cap (The thread stripped when finger tightened) Uneven grain size on the grind. No better than an ornament. Looked nice but absolutely useless after two weeks serious kitchen use.
Have replaced with matching (English) Cole and Mason salt and pepper grinders last Christmas which work beautifully, produce an even grain size for seasoning, don’t lose their thread, and get this blog owners full culinary approval. They cost me fifty bucks for both and should provide years of reliable service. Not two weeks.
There’s a life lesson in there somewhere.