“We have to register this weekend,” my fiancée told me back in January. Register…what? What does “registering” mean? Apparently, we had to make a list of all the stuff we wanted people to buy us as gifts for our wedding later this summer.
Awesome! I couldn’t wait to “register” for a massive TV (ooh, maybe one of those curved ones) and the newest MacBooks and tons and tons of fancy Scotch.
“Uhn uh,” my fiancée said. We would be registering for forks and spoons and plates and bowls. You know, to kickstart OUR FUTURE together.
Well that sure sounded lame. Actually, those things sounded like the worst gifts ever. (Some freaking plates?!) But, like the doting gentleman I am, I dutifully accompanied her to all those home furnishings stores I’d previously spent a lifetime avoiding. You know, your Crate & Barrels and Williams Sonomas and Restoration Hardwares and Sur la Tables.
Once there, however, I somehow began to relish this registering process. No, not just relish it — love it.
How did this happen? I have no idea, but register me…ashamed. Ashamed that I actually now care deeply about the following items:
A chef’s knife
When I chopped stuff in the kitchen as a bachelor, I simply reached for the sharpest thing I could find that was somewhat clean. Registering has taught me that I must have a “chef’s knife,” a large and sharp general utility blade for all your basic cutting needs. I’ve also learned these suckers run upwards of many hundreds to many thousands of dollars. Per knife.
A Dutch oven
No, not a hilarious fart under the sheets. A Dutch oven is an honest-to-god way to cook food slowly. I may have even once lamely uttered, “La Creuset makes a gorgeous one!” Man, I want it so badly.
A slow cooker
But then I discovered slow cookers — which is what old people used to call “Crock-Pots” — and realized, these are even better than Dutch ovens. With three settings, you can just set it and forget it and eight hours later have tender, tender meat. They’re like a Dutch ovens for idiots.
A French press
I drink a ton of coffee because I’m a writer. I have absolutely no time to use a French press. But registering made me realize that I simply like the thought of making fancy coffee for myself every morning…before I go back to using my drip coffeemaker.
We usually eat dinner in front of the TV and certainly never “serve” anyone. Yet, man, do I need all sorts of massive serving platters in all sorts of shapes, sizes, and materials.
A punch bowl
Likewise, we never have parties. Mainly because we live in a tiny one-bedroom apartment. In fact, I can’t imagine ever possibly having a party that necessitates a handcrafted glass bowl with room for two gallons worth of punch. Still, I want one bad. Party punch for two, coming right up!
A garlic press
I had an epiphany while registering: Only suckers actually spend a full minute peeling and mincing their own garlic. I’ve been a sucker for 35 years. No longer.
A mortar (and pestle!)
Which is which? Is the mortar the porcelain bowl or the tiny club thing? What I am sure of: Once married I will finally be able to grind my own spices. Booyah! Life accomplished!
An immersion blender
I don’t even really like soup. But obviously that’s because I’ve never blended it…yet.
I’m still not even quite sure what brandy is, but I will soon have the proper glassware to serve (and pompously swirl) it in.
A whiskey decanter
Because I’ve always wanted to act like Frank Underwood when guests come to visit me. Without all the immoral political maneuvering, of course. And I think my marriage will be a little healthier than his.