L'Equip R.P.M. Blender with Tachometer

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L'Equip R.P.M. Blender with Tachometer: "While it doesn't justify the purchase of a new model just to get it, this 'R.P.M. Blender' from L'Equip has a tachometer on the side. It does seem sort of obvious now that someone's made one, doesn't it? I'd like to see this added to all blenders as standard issue.

The R.P.M. is powered by a 900 watt motor that can spin up to 20,000 revolutions per minute. It's available for $134 plus shipping.

Catalog Page [Tabletools.com via CribCandy via OhGizmo]"

There is no possible reason someone would need this, but man, does it look cool. I wonder how well it blends. What would be even better is a way to retrofit an existing blender with a tachometer (or, as the parent article suggests, that all blenders include this). Something that would look swank and would still work well as a blender. Still, I'm sure some enterprising molecular biologist will know something that has to be blended at exactly 17,312 RPM. Okay, I suppose that is a possible reason someone would need it. Likely? No. Possible? Sure.

(Via Boing Boing Gadgets.)

Immersion Blending

I had my first immersion blender years before I needed it. In the right hands, an immersion blender can bring a new dimension to a soup, smooth out a sauce, and generally keep you from having to go through the painstaking and sometimes dangerous task of transferring a hot, sticky liquid to a regular blender and back. In the wrong hands, an immersion blender is a way to make milkshakes without having to dirty the blender. Well, that's not true. In the wrong hands, an immersion blender is a terribly inefficient and messy way to get yourself to the top of the FBI's most wanted list. Using it for milkshakes and smoothies is kind of handy, if only the briefest touch of its full abilities. Once I started getting into cooking, I broke out the 20-year-old immersion blender that I got from my dad after a house cleaning/purge. It works, sure, but what I didn't realize at the time was that it works poorly. It tears through vegetables like a chain-saw through human flesh: sure, popular culture tells you this should work well, but when you actually try it, you start to think that maybe it was really designed to do something else. Hmmm, this entry is pretty gruesome. I blame chapter two of Near a Thousand Tables: A history of food. Those who have read it probably know what I'm talking about. Those who haven't, well, you can pick it up for yourself. I wouldn't want to get in trouble with the Vegans. Anyways. While visiting Melanie's parents over the Christmas vacation, I was convinced to make some Roasted Vegetable Soup, as Melanie loves it so. I asked her parents if they had an immersion blender, fearful of the limb-burning prospect of the stand blender, and I was relieved that they had one. I immersed the blender, prepared for five minutes of dedicated grinding, pushing the blender against the fully-cooked broccoli and hearing it struggle like the drill of a dentist who is working on what will eventually become his next yacht and summer home once the bill is paid. After all, that's what I did with my old blender. Instead, a quick fifteen seconds later I had virtually eliminated all recognizable vegetable matter. After remarking aloud that I intended to discard the old blender and buy this model immediately upon my return home, Melanie and her mom disappeared in a cloud of mystery and returned with what I eventually discovered was my new Christmas present of a Braun 200-watt Immersion Blender. Hooray! [amtap amazon:asin=B00004S9GX] It has removable attachments, so the bits that get dirty can be washed in the dishwasher. It even has a handy food prep attachment, for when you need to seriously chew through a small amount of vegetables and you don't feel like dirtying a knife or the food processor. Apparently, there's a 400 watt version, but I can't see why a home cook would need such a thing. Maybe one day I'll find out, but I think the 200-watt is the way to go.