Posted by Sharon Anderson

I hate high-tech kitchen gear. Granted, there are some items (knives, pots, and pans come to mind) where you get what you pay for, and it's worth shelling out for quality because the good stuff makes you a better cook, effortlessly. But all those little gadgets? Forget about it. I don't want a timer that tracks five different dishes, because (even if I could figure out how to use it) I have no desire to make five things at once. I don't want a silicone colander that comes in 18 colors and can be folded into a neat little package the size of a matchbox car for storage. And I definitely don't want a spatula that looks like it might blast off into outer space at any moment, but can't flip a pancake to save its slick, aerodynamic life. In fact, the two kitchen tools I find myself reaching for over and over again are the oldest, crappiest things I own (both inherited from my parents): a wood-handled metal spatula and a cheap aluminum colander.

I actually have four spatulas, or "flippers" as my dad calls them, but I only ever use one. This sad-looking tool (at right), which is celebrating its 30th birthday this year, is cracking slightly in the middle, charred at one end of its handle, and it might be starting to rust. But, it is the best thing that's ever happened to to flip-able food. The head of this spatula is perfection: the metal is sturdy enough to handle a hefty pancake or chicken breast, but thin enough to get under the most delicate piece of fish, and it's wide enough to hoist a sandwich, while slim enough to maneuver in my smallest skillet. And I know the cheap wooden handle doesn't look like anything special, but it has been worn so wonderfully that I'm pretty sure it defined ergonomical before that word was even in the dictionary.

Generally, I am less picky about colander perfection, but this one (at left) nails it for me. Sure, it only has two feet—so it looks a little gimpy sitting there in the sink, listing to one side. And I don't remember it ever having handles. But somehow, it still works like a charm. I bought a new colander once, a sexy little number with funky-shaped holes, but I took it home and tried to make orzo and ended up with a sink full of pasta...and an empty colander. Though a little aesthetically challenged, mine has perfectly sized holes arranged in a just-sexy-enough star pattern.

Unlike a good cast iron skillet, neither of these tools is getting better with age. But, of course, there's that sentimental part of me that loves to think, as I am flipping my grilled cheese, that this is the spatula my dad's been using to make French toast since the day my parents got married, and that this crippled old colander has drained pasta in every apartment, dorm, house, and hovel they have inhabited since 1978. But mostly, they work. And that's all I really ask.