You’re not alone if you’ve ever been left wondering what the purpose of a weird kitchen appliance is when you’re staring at it. We’re going to solve the puzzle of one such tool—the onion and vegetable slicer—today.
Have you ever found it difficult to cut vegetables, such as onions, evenly? Do you wish you could get those perfectly thin slices faster and more effectively? You don’t need to search any farther! Maybe an onion and vegetable slicer is the answer you’ve been looking for.
What what is an onion and vegetable slicer, then? It’s essentially a kitchen utensil that makes slicing onions and other veggies very easy. Usually, these useful devices have a base with slots or blades.
An onion and vegetable slicer’s main goal is to produce accurate, consistent slices. This tool helps you create uniform thickness in your slices, which is very useful when you’re cooking or plating items that need to be cooked evenly.
An onion and vegetable slicer is very simple to use. As you cut, it gives the vegetables support and stability. It is especially useful for little or asymmetrically shaped veggies that are difficult to hold stable in your hands alone. You’ll save time and work in the kitchen because the blades or slots are made to cut food into thin, even slices.
Vegetables were traditionally sliced by hand using knives. But as technology developed, people started creating tools to speed up and improve the efficiency of the process. Adjustable blade manual vegetable slicers first appeared in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. With the help of these slicers, users could quickly achieve a level of precision that was difficult to achieve by hand by adjusting the thickness of the slices.
Significant developments in kitchen equipment also occurred with the onset of industrialization. The mid-1900s saw the rise in popularity of electric food slicers. Onions and other vegetables could be sliced with these devices, which are frequently used to slice meats and cheeses.
Manufacturers realized over time that they needed specialized slicers made just for onions and other vegetables. Usually, these slicers included slots or blades designed to cut thin, even slices. They gained popularity among home cooks who wished to expedite the process of preparing meals.
You may be asking where to get an onion and vegetable slicer now that you know what one is. These culinary implements can be found in many different shops and online marketplaces. Here are some alternatives to think about:
Kitchenware Stores: Look into specialty cooking supply stores or kitchenware stores in your area. They frequently have a large assortment of cooking tools, such as slicers for vegetables and onions. Ask the employees at the store for help or look for them in the kitchen tool department.
Online retailers: There are a ton of amazing kitchen gadgets available on the internet. Onion and vegetable slicers are widely available from major online retailers such as Amazon, Walmart, and Target. To make an informed decision, you may quickly browse through several models, evaluate costs, and read user reviews.
Thrift Stores and Yard Sales: These locations, like the one where you discovered your mystery slicer, are excellent for finding reasonably priced kitchenware. You may find an excellent-condition onion and vegetable slicer for a fraction of the original cost.
Don’t forget to select a slicer based on your requirements and tastes. Think on things like the kind of veggies you’ll be slicing, the slicer’s size, and how simple it is to use and clean.
An onion and vegetable slicer can be a useful addition to your kitchen toolkit, regardless of your level of culinary expertise or need to streamline meal preparation. So go ahead and choose the one that works best for you, and bid adieu to irregularly sliced vegetables and onions!
A woman told her daughter that her father had passed away – years later, the girl uncovered a heartbreaking truth
When Cassie returns from a getaway with her husband and son, she walks into her home to see a cryptic message from her mother — telling her to watch a video. As Cassie presses play, her entire life changes. In the end, she’s left wondering which of her parents are worthy of forgiveness.
In my eyes, my father could do no wrong. He was everything I needed him to be and more. He was a businessman who was always traveling, but he ensured that he made enough time for me.
“You’re my little girl, Cassie,” he would say, bopping my nose with his index finger. “You’re the most special.”
My parents always went out of their way for me — ensuring that despite their busy schedules, we would have family dinner almost every night.
It was the one thing that kept me grounded while both of my friends from school were in the middle of their parents’ messy divorces.
“I think it’s trendy now,” I told my mother as she cut slices of banana bread for me after school one day.
“Cas, you cannot think that divorce is trendy,” she laughed. “It’s devastating and traumatic, and very few families actually keep things civil.”
“I’m just saying that it’s trendy because a lot of kids live between two homes,” I explained to her. “It’s one of those things we were talking about in class today.”
I was fourteen, and the world seemed more dramatic than it should have been.
But what I didn’t know was that my words seemed to be an incantation that settled over our home.
A few weeks after that conversation, my father went away on a business trip. A few hours after he had been gone, there was news of his passing.
“How?” I asked. “How did he die?”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Cassie,” she replied. “I’m just saying what the paramedics told me.”
“So what will we do next?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” she asked, puzzled by the question.
“For the funeral?” I asked. “Aren’t we going to have one?”
“I don’t think so,” my mother replied. “Dad wanted to be cremated and have his ashes spread at the beach. Let’s do that instead.”
I couldn’t fathom why my mother would want to do that — but at the end of the day, she knew my father best. And the longer I thought about it, the more beautiful and sentimental a private ceremony at the beach felt.
“Don’t be difficult, Cassie,” my mother said when she saw me thinking about my next move.
“I’m not,” I said. “Really. I was just thinking about it. It’s a great idea, Mom.”
I could have fought her for a send-off that I thought would have been more appropriate. But what use would it have been? At the end of the day, we had both lost him.
The months following the beach ceremony felt weighted, and I knew that I was becoming deeply depressed — my father had been our world. And his absence was felt more than anything.
But, with time, I learned to live with it.
Last week, I decided to book a cabin in the woods for a little family vacation. My son was adamant that camping was the new best thing, and I knew that despite the wonders of nature, I wasn’t going to camp in a tent without a bathroom in sight.
Instead, I thought that a cabin would be the best option — my husband, Derek, could camp outside with Drew, our son, if he insisted on it.
We had a dog, therefore, I asked my mother to house-sit for the week so that we could be at peace, knowing that Romeo was taken care of.
A week away was more than enough to restore my mind — and eventually, when we went back home, I was surprised to see that my mother wasn’t there. In fact, it looked like she had never been there.
But there, on the coffee table, was a note beneath the TV remote.
Watch this, Cassie. I’m sorry. — Mom
I didn’t know what was in store for me, but while Derek got Drew into the bath, I put the TV on and began to watch whatever my mother had planned.
The TV flickered to life, and there he was, my father, his voice a long-lost melody, his image aged but still, unmistakably him.
Tears streamed down my face as the realization that he was still alive enveloped me in a mix of joy and disbelief.
The video message was nothing short of unpredictable.
My dear Cassie, I’m still here, alive. I’m so sorry for the pain that you must have felt from my loss. But it was needed. I needed to be removed from your life because of the sordid truth of my past. Your mother knows everything, please ask her for the truth.
My health is on a steady decline, and I would love to see you and explain it all.
Love you, Dad.
Without telling Derek or Drew anything, I grabbed the car keys and ran out. I needed my mother to explain.
“So, I bet you’ve got questions for me,” she said, opening the door.
“Explain it all,” I said.
“Cassie, it’s heavy. You look tired from your trip; are you sure you want to do this now?” she asked.
I nodded. It was now or never. I needed to know why my father faked his own death to get out of our lives.
My mother made us some tea and took out some shortbread.
“Darling,” she said. “I’ll understand if you don’t forgive me, but there’s so much about that time that I need to tell you.”
I sipped my tea, trying to figure out what my mother was about to tell me.
“I remember that you were telling me about your friend’s parents getting divorced. Do you remember that?” she asked.
I nodded. Of course, I did. It was the strangest thing, but it was so common when I was in school.
“Well, your father and I were not legally married. So when I told him about our conversation regarding divorce, he was actually relieved. Without being married, there would be no divorce.”
“What’s the big deal?” I asked.
“Then I found out that the real reason that we didn’t get married was because your father was already married to another woman.”
“What?” I exclaimed, almost dropping my cup. “To who?”
“To a woman in the town where he always had his business trips.”
“You didn’t know?” I asked, unable to believe her words.
“Of course not!” she exclaimed. “But when I pressed him about it, he decided to choose that family over us. So, I told him that the story was going to be his death.”
We were both silent for a moment.
Turns out that my mother told him that she would never tell me the truth, not when he was my favorite person. She couldn’t burst my bubble in that way. And she refused to let him see me one more time.
“It was better for you to think that it was an accident,” my mother said. “It just made more sense.”
Now, I understood why we didn’t have a funeral for him.
“What did we throw into the sea, then?” I asked.
“Dust,” she replied with a straight face.
My mother had spoken to him twice over the years. The second time being a day ago.
During their meeting, my father confessed his imminent death due to illness and requested that she give me the recording. My mother, torn by guilt and love, chose to write me the note and have the recording all set for me to watch.
“I would have taken the secret to my grave,” she said. “But knowing that he was ill and wanted to see you just struck something in me.”
Compelled by a need to confront the reality of my father’s existence, I traveled to the state where he lived with his other family.
I spent a few weeks with my father — going in and out of hospitals, watching him take an array of different medication, and growing weaker by the day.
Sitting at his bedside, I listened to his stories, the regrets, the moments of joy, and the love he had for all his children — myself included.
When things started to go downhill, I asked Derek to fly over with Drew. It was going to be a fleeting moment, but at least I’d know that my son had met my father.
A few days later, my father died.
Even now, I don’t know if I’ve forgiven him for the lie of having a double life. I just know that when it came to it in the end — I wanted to spend time with him. I had shoved my feelings aside, hoping for memories that I could figure out later.
But now that the dust has settled, I’m trying to figure out if I should forgive my mother for lying.
What would you do?
Leave a Reply