Unlocking the SpiceGate William Bounds Key Pepper Mill Contributed by D. Birnbaum

The theory which I believe is at the heart of my cooking practice is that cleaning up is something one should NOT worry about when engaged in preparing food-- it cramps the creative process. Cleaning should be something worried about later, or, if I may be candid, by more sud-loving souls. I like to cook quickly and kind of frantically-- too much planning is a barrier to self expression in the kitchen. The Messy Gourmet,whether a he,she or it, lives on the edge.

Following this strategy, however, does require effective cooking equipment. When the cook feels moved to add a particular ingredient, say pepper, any delay in execution could lead to serious and damaging consequences. My personal experience has shown that as it cooks, pepper gets sharper and hotter. For that reason I like to add the pepper at the very last stage of cooking as close as possible to serving. How many times have I reached for the pepper mill at just the moment when the vegetables are screaming to be peppered only to find that the tempermental mill is jammed and feeling stubborn! As I am trying to discharge the pepper from the unrepentant mill, the vegetables are getting over-cooked, or worse, soggy. What did I do to deserve such punishment?

For too long now, we have been grappling with frustrating pepper mills that despite their elegant design just don't work. The time has come for a change.The William Bounds Key Pepper Mill-- which has actually been around for thirty years-- is a beautiful and functional piece of kitchen machinery, a comforting addition to the hectic and demanding life of the Messy Gourmet. It looks good, it feels good in one's hand, and most importantly-- it works! I just love the way the mill spins smoothly and easily and produces well-ground pepper. I am most pleased with this little gadget which, like too few things in our world, does what it is supposed to.The damn thing is so good that if I hadn't gotten all my other pepper mills as gifts, I would throw them out-- or give them to some patient, sud-loving and self-punishing soul.