Romance lost

Years ago, I would chop all the ingredients for my homemade salsa by hand. I'd dip the farmer's market ripe tomatoes into boiling water and then into ice water so they'd peel easier. I would finely chop onions and jalapenos and cilantro. I'd mix it all together lovingly. It was time consuming, a real treat in our home, and not made very often.

Then, I scored a food processor off the clearance table at Williams-Sonoma.

Suddenly, salsa could be a weekly event. I even was willing to used canned tomatoes. It came with two work bowls, so we could have hot red and mild green salsas at the SAME TIME.

It was wonderful and convenient. But, I couldn't help but worry that possibly I was losing some of the craft and love of the hand chopped. I missed the romance of spending an afternoon making salsa The Phenom would gobble down. I missed it for just a few minutes. The Phenom gobbles down the machine made stuff too.

But, I was reminded of the touch of romance lost when I heard this story on NPR this morning. I understand the need for more and more accurate measurements of weight for the important work of science. But, I couldn't help but think that perhaps we were losing some of the romance of the story of the original kilogram. . . and the faith we put in its' weight.