The Whisk

I have said it before, and I say it again, I am incredibly fortunate with my friends- not only are they generous, funny, kind souls, they are renowned for their cooking/crafting/and various other skills… 

They are also renowned for their exceptional gift-giving (my mother is also a gift-giver-supreme, our visit to my parents home after Christmas is like a second Christmas morning!)

 One of my dearest friends has elevated gift-giving to a veritable art. And no matter how much I try to out-do her, she sweeps in nonchalantly bearing “a” gift like this:

(like, how am I supposed to compete with this??!)

 Her gifts are like a thoughtful group of memories from the previous year. Each part has a funny story, and in this gift selection, it was the large whisk (in use obviously when the photo was taken!!) that we laughed most about:

 A week or two previously, we had been making dinner, and my friend was making a cheese sauce. As she was preparing it, she began to rant orate beautifully about the merits of a large whisk while making sauces, and how a home simply wasn’t a home without it, why! it was a veritable disgrace that any cook worth her salt wouldn’t have a proper one, and might try make do with a teeny piddly useless one…

 Oh, and, would I hand her the whisk as she needed one quickly…

So I did.

I handed her my only whisk: