The mortar and pestle- a seeming anachronism in the age of faster, easier, better. But add this to the growing list of paradoxes; faster and easier aren’t necessarily better. A electric spice grinder doesn’t hold a candle to my well- used mortar and pestle. Grinding spices by hand is a reminder that things being too easy might be worse than things being too hard. We get lazy. We demand “on demand”. And we miss the opportunity to appreciate that we are a capable machine and to remember that old-fashioned things are still in fashion.
I suppose if you’re running a restaurant and grinding pounds of coriander or cardamom, you might be forgiven for using an electric mill. But a tablespoon? The crack and crunch of the pestle in the bowl is music; the high-pitched whir of the electric mill is noise. The scent from the open bowl perfumes the kitchen without a trace of motorized harshness. Even the shiniest, most expensive electric grinder looks sad next to a stone mortar and pestle. I once had an electric grinder. It lived in a cabinet, seldom used- out of sight, out of mind. This marble one lives on the counter and is used almost every day. It’s a solid reminder of Victor Hugo’s belief that “The beautiful is as useful as the useful, perhaps more so.”
In praise of mortar and pestle was prompted by a recent NY Times story on culinary rituals. The writer’s great-grandmother was his family’s ritual-keep. She had “an aversion to gadgets”. She believed that “while a modern device can mimic an outcome, it can also erase age- old processes. Kneading dough, shaping dumplings and grinding grains and spices are all physical, even soothing.”
For a surprisingly comfortable grind, the mortar and pestle is optional, but strongly encouraged.