To close out the weekend, we had a the anti-sandwich: a deconstructed Mediterranean sandwich platter. Making it, I exposed my reliance upon…
… the machines.
They lurk around us, ushered into our homes in bursts of consumerist glee. They tend to our needs and cater to our whims. They surround us, for better or worse.
We rely upon their silent obedience. We rely upon the machines.
Take, for example, our deconstructed sandwich platter. It includes:
– hummus, made in the immersion blender attachment
– baba ghanoush, blended in the food processor
– not pictured: homemade focaccia, kneaded in the food processor.
Scattered in with these abominations of the machine age are olives, roasted red pepper, caramelized onions, crusty rolls, and a heap of oven fries. All these accoutrements, of course, were inventoried and priced and rung up on machines too numerous to count, fetched to our home in a car, roasted or caramelized or chilled or warmed. It boggles the mind.
The machines outnumber us by… I dunno, like, a lot.