My mum had one – everyone’s mum had one – and I recall it being used with an air of reverence, of trepidation, as if the damn thing might give in and finally explode as per urban legend, despite years of faithful use apparently demonstrating its safety. This caution of my mothers made me, well, cautious. Consequently I’ve had my own kitchen(s) for nigh on 30 years and I hadn’t bought one.
What an idiot. I’ve only used it twice so far and I love it. LOVE IT. What the hell have I been doing all these years without one??
I confess I’m still stuck in the ‘it makes a great stew’ stage but I’m sure that will run it’s obsessive course and I’ll branch out into more adventurous pressure cookery as time goes on. On it’s first use I was hiding behind the laundry door when Mr C let the inaugural stream run free. If I could have laid hands on one of those protective riot shields the police in the British North seem to have cause to use every 5 minutes, I would have. (Or that glassy bomb proof cage they have on Mythbusters. If it protects them from exploding water heaters and the like, I should be safe from a pressure cooker). So I guess I have a way to go. Anyway, hell – I have insurance.
Overcaution to one side, by golly but it does make a fantastic stew. I rendered cheapo lamb necks to a soft, unctuous, meaty broth in 17 minutes. 17 minutes, ladies and gentlemen! Verily, it is an amazement! This ticks many a desirous box:
1) fast cooking = eco goodness. Tick.
2) fast cooking = cooler house in the summer months. Big tick.
3) Mr C loves a stew. Mrs C therefore in good books. Mahoosive tick.
In the next post…the lamb shanks miraculously transformed – in under 30 minutes!