Life, Zojirushi, and the Paradox

If we all have a virtue we are supposed to acquire before we go, mine must be Patience. I am not sure why I turned out the way I did. Maybe it was that the doctor was in a hurry when I was born, and yanked me out a little too soon. Dazzled by seeing the world before my due time, I turned out needing for things happen before they are meant to happen. Maybe I was spoiled as a child, and not taught to delay gratification. Or maybe it is my temperament; maybe nature just gave me an internal clock that says “it’s time; it’s time; it’s time, it’s time, it’s time!”

Whatever the reason, once an idea lodges itself in the corners of my mind, it is virtually impossible to pry it out. This can be a helpful thing; but when life throws wrenches at my expectations, as it recently did, it can be frustrating and challenging. I have recently been dealt a big card, become excited about it, only to be faced with unexpected change and disappointment. As usual, I tried to mold the reality around back into shape with my plans and hurry, but this time, it did not work.

At the mercy of a destiny and a higher reasoning that I trust (deep in my heart), and yet do not understand, and doubt all too often, my internal clock was bellowing at me and crowding all other thoughts: “it’s time; it’s time; it’s time, it’s time, it’s time!”

As a friend recently pointed out, "The greatest challenge of my life has been to see and accept the actual truth without great pain and struggle against it." — M.C. Halliday (I Came Up Stairs: A Victorian Courtesan's Memoirs, 1867 to 1871). This saying applies to most of my life’s growth experiences, but is particularly salient at the moment.

And yet so it was, much to my relief, that on the day of the Wrench, the postman arrived, 5 days early, with two state of the art “presents” I had ordered for myself: the Zojirushi Mini Bread Maker, and the Zojirushi 10-cup Fuzzy Logic Rice Cooker. Yes, I know. Talk about divine providence! Or, easy pay. Or, could it be, that when you watch and lem such items daily for a month, and then find out on the day you decide to give up on the lemming... that both went on easy pay! Could it be that on that day, and that day alone, divine providence and easy pay are one and the same? At least that is what I told myself, in my lack of Patience, in order to allow myself to order both of these major (and bombastic!) kitchen appliances at the same time... a previously unthinkable act. Of course, the fact that our household is about to grow in size by one young adult probably has something to do with that too, on a practical level.

Zoji 1

But I digress. In order to take advantage of this unexpected lovely surprise, hubby and I went to the store and procured ingredients to test Zoji 1 and Zoji 2. Both are wonderful and awesome. The Rice Cooker, despite being a 10 cup size (I know, we are a family of… 2? 3?... who knows), made perfect parboiled white rice for 2 right off the bat (1/2 a cup of dry rice). Yes, it makes wonderful rice even in small quantities, and this comes from someone who grew up eating deliciously stove top cooked rice every day. It is now loaded with McCann’s Irish steel cut oats ready for the morning (and apple slices! Yikes! I think they will ferment overnight and kill us, but hubby insisted, and I am currently working on accepting whatever Wrench life throws at me, so there you go).

I know I will love the Rice Cooker even more when I begin to make things like “mixed rice” in it, with meat and veggies, or chili, or tortilla soup, or stew, or pudding, or… you get the idea. In a small kitchen where the slow cooker boarded a one-way flight to the Goodwill, the Rice Cooker shall very likely become king. 

And while I must admit that I was torn between the 5.5 cup and the 10 cup, I am glad I chose the 10 cup. It is only 2 inches (or less) bigger in each dimension, and it will be perfect for making dishes such as Chinese Spareribs with enough for healthy lunch leftovers for… 2? or 3?... what have you. To top it off, it looks completely adorable. Staring at it, with its rice paddle sticking up the side like a single ear looking thing, and thinking it looked like a Hayao Myiazaki character, I began to wonder whether I was hallucinating… when hubby walked in the kitchen, and said that it did look cute – it looked like... a gerbil! I was amazed that he saw it, too (although it looks more like a hamster, in my opinion; probably a roborovski, even).

However! The Mini Bread Maker… Oh Mini Bread Maker, however did I doubt your purchase and consider you a luxury? You, who walked into the home of an utterly ungifted bakeless woman, and after a 2 minute-piling-of-ingredients and a 5 hour completely-automated-cycle-of-breadmaking-miracles produced a soft, holey, perfectly crunchy-crusted, adorable loaf of French Bread? French bread, the lost love of my childhood, having grown up eating it every day… Fresh! Made daily! Cheap! On demand! Tiny-enough-to-be-eaten-in-one-day-before-it’s-stale! Oh, Mini Bread Maker, and what sweet promises you whisper in my ear… Pumpernickel! Brioche! Chocolate Panettone! Pizza Dough! Homemade Pasta! Apple Butter! Char Siu Bao Sticky Buns!

And so it is that life, paradoxically as only it can manage, threw at me a major lesson in patience and acceptance… And on the same day, gave me the power of timed, no effort, zero knowledge required, instant gratification that only the smell of homemade bread and risotto waiting for you when you get home can provide (yes, both machines have timer features). This is how I was reminded that my heart can, at the same time, be heavier with confusion and impatience, but lighter with homemade happiness. My belly, on the other hand, is heavier. Yep. Definitely just plain heavier.