essentials

i've been thinking about essentials lately.

like, what makes an essential?

and, if something is an essential to me, is it the same for you?

i have a few that i can name right off my chest: wine. face wash. sparkling water. a mandolin. floss.

and i just learned of a new one: a can opener.

who would have thunk that a can opener would be an essential? just use a knife, poke some slits, and pry it open, for goodness' sakes! yeah, and risk slicing those sweet, tender hands while you're at it. 

our trusty ol' can opener, pictured above, paid its last farewell a few weeks ago. it was a fine instrument, the kind of kitchen utensil you could trust. it clamped ever so perfectly onto the can, and without the slightest effort, glided around the lid until you felt the faintest give. you'd remove the opener, and just like that, the lid was freed, sans sharp, spiky edges. those were good, simple times.

as time passed, our can opener rusted and grew weak at the clamp. it lost its razor edge and easy glide. so we paid its last respects and retired it. during those few weeks between our old opener and the (pain-in-the-ass) new one, i realized how vital this instrument is in the kitchen. the tomato paste for sauces. the tuna for sandwiches. and what about the garbanzo beans for a quick addition to a salad?! i would be  lying to you if i didn't say those weeks were tough. and they actually continue to be tough, now that we have a subpar replacement (which by the way, leaves the most jagged edges known to man). 

so as i contemplate the (shamefully long) list of what i consider essentials, i encourage you to do the same. because once its gone, you have to be prepared for its absence. and i don't wish sliced hands or a wine-starved stomach on anyone.