Kindling the Fryer of Desire

I'm proud to announce that I’ve joined the ranks of e-readers.

Thanks to your encouraging comments on my last post and recommendations on books and e-readers, {along with a timely email from Amazon with a special price}, I took the leap and bought a Kindle Paperwhite.

When it arrived -- with the pretty blue watercolor cover I spent far too much time deliberating over -- I was eager to set it up.

But just a few seconds after turning it on, I accidentally chose Chile as my home country and Chilean Spanish as the language for my new Kindle.





Since I don't speak any other languages, I was soon wishing the Kindle could also conjure up a handsome Chilean Spanish man to read me the instructions I couldn’t comprehend.

After 45 minutes of Google searches, I never imagined I'd find it so difficult to change the language settings. Then I discovered I'd apparently also downloaded the Chilean Spanish version of the Kindle user guide.

That’s why I like books.

They're pretty self-explanatory. Instructions aren't needed to open the cover, turn the page and focus your eyes on words.

In just a few seconds, you’re off and reading.

When I need instructions or don't know what I'm doing, I’d often rather just steer clear of the whole experience.

This introduction to the Kindle was hot on the heels of being assigned to the fryer in my cooking class a few weeks ago.

I'd registered for a class on preserving and pickling. From the straightforward title, I figured I'd learn how to make jam or turn cucumbers into pickles.

But while the rest of the class stirred berries on the stove for our fruity clafoutis {did you know that rhymes?} dessert and seared peppers on the grill for our bruschetta appetizer, the chef waved his whisk at me and told me to start battering up the okra that had been previously pickled before our class even started.

I was reluctant to admit I'd never deep-fried anything in my life, let alone okra, a peculiar vegetable I rarely eat.

Besides, I have a bit of an aversion to frying.

Growing up, whenever my mother fried anything in our house, I'd swear I could smell the grease in my hair, on my clothes and once I even got a whiff of it on my purse, so I decided never to fry if I could help it.

And now here I was standing in front of the fryer with a chef telling me to shake the basket of okra and lower it into the oil.

I had no idea how long it takes to fry okra or how to tell if they were done.

The man standing next to me at the stove {blissfully grilling his pretty peppers} took pity on my plight and helped me load and unload the fryer basket.

Four baskets later, my hands were spattered with grease and I'd long given up on my hair and clothes emerging unscathed.

Then the chef told me to go ahead and do the chicken too since I was already standing at the fryer.

I was pretty sure my jam-making dream was completely fried by now.

I wouldn't have thought that Kindles and fryers have that much in common, but they both invited me to step into tricky territories where I'm uneasy, uncomfortable and unskillful.

And I'm convinced that is exactly how it should be.

Maybe it's what we all need sometimes.

To accept the invitation to not know what we're doing and see where that uncertain journey leads us.

A Kindle and a fryer may be trivial tools but I'm seeing how almost every situation, every circumstance in our lives offers a unique invitation.

Will we open the door to possibilities of turning an awkward situation into a novel encounter that could bloom into a colorful change?

This is my ongoing desire.

I’m not sure if I can truly call myself an e-reader yet since the only reading I’ve done so far on my Kindle is to skim through the user’s guide.

{I finally located the English version.}

But I'll fire up the Kindle soon so the next time I pack my travel bag, I’ll be ready to book a much lighter trip.

And in case you're wondering if I'd want to encounter the fryer again, let's just say that was definitely a flash in the pan for me.

Books are more my jam.

I'm joining my friends at Holley Gerth's place at Coffee for your Heart, and I'm also over at Culture with Travel, sharing more about cooking.