The miracle T machine
My mother went and bought herself a Thermomix. For those of you not in the know, this big shiny machine is a cooking robot that's supposed to replace something like 10 kitchen tools. I lack the cooking vocabulary needed to tell you what this babe can do, but look at the picture and get an idea.

This thing doesn't retail. Your Thermomix will come to you via a fantastic looking lady with gracious manners and a huge smile who will make you a 23 course meal for 45 guests in a matter of minutes. Then she'll sell you the miracle T machine. You'll buy it feeling lucky. You'll pay the installments as long as the world turns. And you'll talk about your Thermomix in feminine, as if you had suddenly hired Patricia to help you out in the kitchen.

My mother went and bought the first Thermomix years ago, when i was a kid. I remember the green and metal machine, not as sophisticated as it looks in its 5.8 version now, but still able to take over the entire kitchen and leave all knives, blenders et all out of the job.

So after her experience and now that she's living alone, my mother decided to boost her kitchen confidence and fight cooking lazyness with this robot. Except she doesn't use it, claiming it's complicated, she doesn't have time, etc. And she has given it to me. *gasp*. I've accepted as long as it's a loan. I'll give it a spin for a few months, make Muffin's delicatessen with it and we'll take it from there.

The T machine is currently sitting on top of the dishwasher. Looking at me, surrounded by her accesories and books. I feel a little intimidated, but please keep the secret.