- 25/4/2011 <--Prev : Next-->
How many times have you seen comedies on American sitcoms that involve ministrations to a garbage disposal under a sink ?
Now for the edification of my fellow Third Worlders, a garbage disposal is an amazing contraption, it is waste disposal unit usually electrically powered, installed under a kitchen sink between the sink's drain and the trap which shreds food waste into pieces small enough to pass through plumbing.
Over the years my Texan brother in law has given me copious instruction on the vagaries of his garbage disposal - but not copious enough it would appear.
There are screeds written in the annals of time about garbage disposal units and each, it would appear has its own trials and tribulations, quirks and quiddities.
Now Uncle Dave is a jack of all trades, apart from being the worlds most able expert on Apple Macs, he can turn his hand to tiling, plumbing, carpentry and all things DIY..
Thank goodness ...
Because to date I have single handedly demolished not one but two of his garbage disposal units !
No one told me not to put the pineapple top down the drain after all !! That resulted in the procurement of an entire brand new unit .. and then this visit, there were the lowly potato skins ..
Now I have always been an ardent admirer of the magnificent Texas store called Lowes, a DIY chain which makes one's mouth literally drool. But then I am also an ardent admirer of the Aussi chain of DIY stores called Bunnings. OMG give me a Lowes or a Bunnings instead of a dress shop any day.
I can go into ecstasy over an aussi sheep skin paint roller, those clever clips and gadgets that make life so worth living, and I can never believe just how easy DIY is in First World countries.
But the Mending of the Garbage Disposal Unit was not an easy task trust me. Just picture my unhappy plight, Uncle Dave comes home from work after a long hard day, twenty young people drinking his beer all over his house - rainy day - white carpet.
He is required to cook twenty ribeyes to perfection standing at his barbecue in the rain, the rest of us are comfortable in the nice dry house, catching up, reminiscing, drinking his beer and margaritas.
I was casually tossing up a potato bake (the only culinary thing Charlie ever allowed me to learn) and wham, the potato skins refused to be gobbled up by the garbage disposal.
Many moments of sheer terror ensued as I gathered all the able bodied men I could to assist me in an unblockage exercise, all the while sending someone out to detain uncle Dave at the barbecue. But alas, he is like a Jack Russell, his nose for trouble brought him straight to my kitchen midden and I had to fess up to my misdemeanor.
He was remarkably tranquil, I will give him his due, he became "Mein Host with the Most", cooked up the most divine ribeyes for a party of twenty ex college kids, and them turned his capable hand from things all Jamie Oliver, to things of offal, dross and swill.
Twas the spud skins, tucked like tuber vichyssoise, refusing to budge one inch down the drain, completely comfortable in their soggy solanum tuberous u-bend bed.
Monkey wrench in one hand, Bud Light in the other, Uncle Dave got under the sink like any normal swash buckling garburator at a Texan dinner party.
Emerging triumphant with mounds of yam in each paw, we rinsed him off with dishwasher and continued with our merry making.
Was my face red ?