I just picked up a $15 rice cooker at the same store where I once bought a very fine $8 toaster. Do I know value or what. But here is the thing. A rice cooker is passive — you put in the rice and water and turn it on and it does the rest. Do you even have to turn it off? I don’t think so. It just sits there, stewing. Sort of female-like. The cooked rice stimulates one’s appetite. It also takes a long time to get ready in the evening. Tradeoffs.
By contrast, the pressure cooker is a powerful machine. Masculine. It functions well, if not quite coolly, under stress. It makes noise and exudes just a hint of danger. Some people are scared of it. But it gets the job done faster than anything else (brown rice, 20 minutes, QED). Like the Browning M2 heavy machine gun it is sturdily constructed from highest-quality steels and requires an operator’s calm maturity and careful management for successful operation. Precision is important. You can use your massive Breitling (instruments for professional cooks) chronograph to time the broccoli as you would time an instrument approach in your Lockheed Constellation, with the enormous Turbo Compound engines going pocketa pocketa pocketa. Truth be told, I have been a pressure-cooker man for many years, ever since my mom gave me one as a gift.
So, I am wondering if going the rice-cooker way is a beta move. Certainly some things will be easier. But where is the adventure? Also, all that testosterone is making me impatient — I don’t know if I can wait twice as long for my cooked rice.
It may be time to plunge deep into manly culinary risk-taking by buying an electric turkey fryer.