Sunday, 10 January 2010

Amish and Tuppleware Treats

So I have spent a few days in the birthplace of the Baroness, a mixture of crazy, warmth and a lick 'o' hick, and I have to say I kinda like it.
There is no pretension and that is a very comfortable thing to live without.
I find that the people here make me reminisce to my informative years, living in North Yorkshire and the great people one finds in the small towns populating the marvelous countryside.

"Ar, got 'tgo down t' valley, get tha sheep and then ah can come up't bar for a wee pint."
There is a general welcome here with about a five minute suspicious undertone, until they decided whether they like you or not. Then when the teasing starts you have been welcomed and are now accepted.

I find being here is a bit like putting on a comfortable sweater, definitely familiar song, but with a different melody playing and the occasional offbeat.

A large population of Amish live in around the Dry Run area, which I find fascinating, never having encountered people who live the way they do. I have been here for a few days but I hve yet to find the sight of one of them in a buggy, just a common occurrence and I may still scream out 'Amish', when I see one riding by, in a very excited school girl manner.

I went into the suburbs of Philadelphia last night.

"I need to buy things I need, I need these things...I bought my husband BBQ tongs,"

This sentence echoed around my head and summed up the entire night for me.
I thought it was a joke and she was being amusing, trying to jokingly excuse the amount of money she was spending on these products.

She wasn't.

She was deadly serious, as my American tour guide, the Baroness, informed me when she saw my amusement at this statement.

I was at a 'Pampered Chef' party, which is a new look on the old 1950s Tupperware parties that America made famous. This old American tradition has never really caught on in the 'Old Blighty' and if you don't even know what a Tupperware party is, it is an Anne Summer's party but instead of a dildo, you can purchase a rolling pin.

At these parties, women perfectly capable of cutting up a pineapple in the traditional way (avec le knife), suddenly lament that they have always had an issue when cutting up their pineapples. In fact, cutting up this pineapple, has become an impossible task. So this pineapple wonder cutter is
"exactly what I have been searching the kitchen appliance world for."
They say to each other as they put down their order for two.
"I might break one"

Ode to the Pineapple Cutter
Oh Pineapple cutter How I love thee let me count the ways. I can't there are too many. I want thee I need thee.

So these women hand over $100+, they will wait in their previously inadequately stocked kitchens, awaiting the arrival of the necessary pineapple cutter and Chilli separator (for when your Chilli is so clogged a spoon or fork just won't do).

I do have a beautiful reminder of this evening spent in American suburbia, a delicious treat of a trivet bought by my American mommy.

Love you mommy!

The Countess

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