My khala has a thing for fresh juices. For as long as I can remember, she's been squeezing the life out of all citrus fruits, and any others she can get her hands on. Where most people would remember their childhood and young adult years filled with comfort foods and the aroma of freshly baked goods, I associate mine with juices. I think my khala has juiced everything under the sun - including cabbages! One kind of juice she has stocked in her deep freezer all year round is lemonade. Oh. My. God. Her lemonade is to die for! She's figured out the ratio of acid to sugar that makes you want to set your glass down after the first sip, throw both your fists into the air and scream! It's heaven in a glass.
Lately, I'd been worried about the effort she put into her lemonade. I cannot count the number of times I've seen her sitting (or sometimes standing) with a huge bowl full of half lemons, squeezing away with a handheld citrus juicer. She said her regular citrus juicer was too big for the tiny lemons we get here in Pakistan. It looks tedious, and I'm sure it is. That's why I suggested she buy a steel citrus juicer, the kind professionals use. I was passing by the Abdullah Shah Gazi Mazar the other day and saw a juicer on a cart that caught my fancy. I rushed home and explained the contraption to my khala, who was immediately interested. We talked about logistics - where would one buy something like that? Would it last if it wasn't made with stainless steel? Where would you put something that big? These and many more questions no doubt made both of us lay awake at night. Finally, my khala went out yesterday and got herself one. Unfortunately, it was far from what we had fantasized about.
Khala explained that there had been two types of juicers in the market (I think she said she got it from Saddar) - one with a lever, and the other with a wheel. She had gotten the one with the lever because it looked like less work. She quickly sliced every citrus fruit under the roof in two and set up a juicing station. After the first squeeze, the excitement in her face turned into disappointment. It juiced the orange, sure, but not to my khala's preferred extent. I gave it a go, but same luck. We set it on the floor and applied even more force, but yet again, it left some pulp unjuiced. We're not ones to waste in our house, so this posed as a big problem. If indeed that was the extent of squeezing this juicer would do, it was a failed investment.
Khala then took out her trusty Kenwood citrus juicer and did a comparative squeeze. I couldn't take a picture to compare the two empty covers of the orange but the difference was significant. Kenwood had juiced the orange, pith and all. That's what we were hoping the big juicer would do too, but alas, such big dreams for something locally made. Tomorrow is another day, though. Khala has a new theory about how to juice lemons in the steel citrus squeezer - something about filling up the bottom steel cup up to the rim with halves of lemons and then pressing the lever down. I hope she's right, but we're keeping realistic expectations this time around.
So, I think this was an unsuccessful experiment. We're now faced with the problem of storing this useless piece of equipment - hiding our failure somewhere it wouldn't constantly salt our wounds. The thing is bigger than normal cabinets are, though, so I have no idea where we'll put it. I suggested selling it to a juice shop, but what juice shop doesn't already have a juicer, right?
Oh well. I'm just glad this experience hasn't weighed down my khala's juicing spirits. She made an awesome (and by awesome, I refer not only to the taste, but the quantity too!) batch of fresh orange juice last night, albeit having to use her Kenwood. What was the moral of the story, you wonder? Well, it could be to adhere to tradition. Or it could be to try new things, but be pragmatic about outcomes. Or it could be my favorite - don't trust anything with the label "Made in Pakistan" on it!
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