I’m sorry to drag you into my personal drama here, but please help me justify my spiralizer purchase to myself. I am painfully aware that the spiralizer wave already crested and crashed many months ago, but I’m also a person who only binged-watched Friday Night Lights and Battlestar Galactica once they were already off the air, so sometimes it takes me a while to catch on to widely-loved things, OK? So spiralizers. Yeah. While they are available at varying levels of fanciness and cost, the bog standard is a crank-driven device in which a fruit or vegetable is impaled and rotated against blades to shave it into ribbons or “noodles” that, per the marketing materials enclosed with mine, stand in for pasta.
That last part is never gonna happen in my home (I tried and just felt mildly dysthymic while trying to pretend that butternut squash was linguini), but I’ve had visions of elegant produce frills dancing in my head for a while now, and I was ordering from Amazon Prime anyhow, and $39.95 later, here we are. There’s a spiralizer in my home now, and I intend to get my money’s worth outta the darned thing.
I have indeed used it once thus far, and it went smashingly—a Japanese sweet potato shaved into if not curls, then at least petals in a much less bloody fashion than I often face with my mandoline. (Yes, I have a mandoline, all manner of Microplanes, and a bounty of other kitchen gadgets that I do actually deploy on the regular.) I baked the sweet potato shavings on a tray in the oven with some salt and a spray of sesame oil for about 30 minutes at 300°F, and felt incredibly well-fed and smug as I enjoyed them alongside my scrambled eggs.
But I gather from plenty of online comments that this is just a honeymoon phase for most folks. That my current obsession is fated to wane, and my glossy new OXO Good Grips 3-Blade Spiralizer with StrongHold Suction will soon be coated in dust, kitchen spatter, and financial mournfulness. I want that not to happen. Tell me how.
As a professional breakfast journalist, I focus most of my emotional, physical, and mental energy on that particular meal. (Netflix and my dogs, too, but the rest of it there.) Thus far, I have visions of frilled hard-boiled eggs, cheese spirals for days, potatoes ribboned and fried into all manner of sides, even more breakfast salads than I already consume (which is a lot), and fancy-ass apple garnishes atop every fruit salad and baked good. Zucchini seems to be the wagon to which so much of the spiralizer’s appeal is hitched, but zucchini vaguely depresses me, so I may sidestep it. Hard winter squashes and radishes, however? Snuggle up to my omelet and step into my frittata.
I yell about the importance of breakfast vegetables to anyone who will listen, and even those who won’t, but now I am mildly paralyzed with terror that this spiralizer will be my comeuppance. Please talk me down. Find me online (@extracrispy and @kittenwithawhip work well and yeah, you can @ me) and tell me of your spiralizer triumphs. It’s too early in the year for me to muck up a demi-resolution (the other one is “become really elegant” and I think it’s going well). I can use all the help I can get so I don’t, you know, spiral further into madness.