21. Twirl a little
For mixing, use wooden spoons. For whipping a liquid or a mixture, use a whisk... "a utensil formed by wires of tinned iron that end in a solid handle."
But there are other ‘whips’ on the market, Ada writes, with gears and with more rapid results. An ink drawing shows an old fashioned egg beater--the handheld kind with two interlocking whisks, a handle on top and a crank on the side. We had one in my home growing up. It required two hands to operate, leaving neither hand free to hold the bowl. More cumbersome than effective, I'd argue.
The simple, single whisk: always available, easy to clean, and with acquired skill nearly as fast as other methods of whipping. Invented sometime in the mid 19th century in Europe, the whisk is believed to have been brought into American homes in the early 1960's by Julia Child on one of her first captivating appearances on TV. I've read that some of the best contemporary chefs continue to prefer it to an electric mixer. I wonder if it's the intimate engagement with the egg white, one on one, allowing for careful attention to its aeration. Or if it might not simply be the motion, the rhythmic twirling of liquid to create the fluff: a transformation calling on both speed and grace.
IT WAS JUST BEFORE DINNER (and about twenty years ago). My daughter, born in Germany and having lived in Italy, Michigan, and now California, climbed from the pool and picked up a towel. I watched from the kitchen window as she flung it over one shoulder and pulled the ends around to tie it on. In one poised swoop, she’d made a toga. In she came, twirling on her toes.
“Mama! Look. I’m a Roman Goddess!” And she was, complete with aloof countenance and regal stand.
She whipped the towel off and tied it around her neck. “And now...Now I’m Bat Woman!” she growled, stealthily hunting an imaginary villain.
Another flip, this time creating a long robe with a tight hood. There was a slow measured pace, eyes downcast. “And a nun.”
A quick rewrap under the arms created a strapless gown. With a toss of the blond and an unbelievable strut, her voice was all flirt: “A movie stah....”
And then, wrapping it around just her middle to bulk up her slender frame, she ruffled her hair, turned her feet slightly pigeon toed, and with a heavy peasant-like gait, shoulders back, stomach forward, belted: “And now...a German!”
And with one final twirl, she danced to the back patio and splash-jumped her giggles into the pool.
(From a journal entry, all those years ago.)
