Gastroplod

Cooks are always wonking on about this or that great piece of equipment and now I’m joining the fray on account of this sexy beast.  Sorry folks, but just look and learn.

What makes this not-tiny-at-all tool terrific is the depth, fit and grip of its bowl, allowing me to pound and grind to my heart’s content without everything jumping out, flying around and splashing me in the face before I’m finished.  It’s pestle as pile driver, its own weight and impressive girth providing enough crushing power to take care of most comers; I just grip it tight, lift a couple of inches and drop – it hits the spot every time, saving my wrists for erm, other activities.

This is no sausage-in-a-bucket hog-the-kitchen-countertop and splatter-it-all-around Jamie Oliver-style mortar (and who grinds uncooked black-eyed beans anyway?).  It’s hunky-chunky, good-looking and it gets the job done: more of a Rowley Leigh – or newcomer Valentine Warner for that matter.  Solid, unpretentious, down to earth.

The granite interior provides a bit of rough grip too, fluffing creamy aïoli and red rouïlle to peaks of perfection.

With this monochrome monster I’m never looking back, but even so I’m holding on to my mini marble mortar for small quantities of spices or rough salt – that’s about it tho’.