I Know a Good Reamer When I See it and a little BJ Goes a Long Way. It's a Juicy Story.

First, let me start with a general warning rather than label this as NSFW, right out of the gate. I would advise that you not read this post while you are eating or drinking over top of your keyboard. I have been known to cause people to choke by wielding some sarcastic wit and this can cause an unsuspecting reader and their keyboards to be put directly in harms way.

The other thing that you should know about me is that I have a personality and a sense of humour which lands me squarely between Betty White's innocent observations about life and Joan Rivers' ability to punch you in the "Jesus-throat". Joan had an uncanny ability to verbalizing her "less than filtered for polite company" thought patterns and she always gave her opinion about what she thought was the obvious conclusion related to a topic. Be it positive or negative, she never apologized for what she thought.

So, fair warning to all because sometimes a little "Betty Joan" leaks right out of me... and just like with other things in life, a little BJ, used in the right application goes a long way. 

My story starts with our recent trip to Spain. My husband and I got use to drinking freshly squeeze orange juice because oranges literally grow on trees there and they cost next to nothing. Not quite as good as a dime a dozen, but in today's currency, as close as you're likely going to get.

(This picture of an orange trees was taken in Jerez, Spain at the Tio Pepe sherry bodegas.)

The apartment we were staying at, was equipped with an automatic citrus juicer. It was a plastic affair but with some coercion was able to produce fresh juice by the glass-full. We were routinely juicing about 12 oranges daily.

We learned that 3 oranges and some elbow grease against the plastic reamer would produce a glass of fresh orange juice, this size. That started my new love affair with a very faithful breakfast staple.

Not to be outdone, my husband started his own love affair, at the same time, with another beverage staple, the cappucino.

 

Almost as soon as we returned home, he was on the hunt for a gently "used" espresso machine so that he could take his coffee drinking experience to the next level. In less than a week, he was the highest bidder on an online auction for a machine. The winning bidders were required to pick their "won" items up in a small town called Tweed, (which is approximately a 40 minute drive from our house).

The pick-up day was a Saturday and as such, I was able to go with him for the drive. Once we picked up the machine, we decide to go into the town to see if they had any shops that sold used household items because we needed a tamper and a stainless steel container that we could use as a frother. We found just such a store and were pleased to learn that all the currency that they generated from the sale of  the donated household items was given back to this small community to fund local initiatives. (Nice, we thought.)

So, it is here that I find myself standing in an aisle that contained small dishes and glassware. My husband was a couple of aisles over, looking at their selection of small appliances. He was rummaging through the pile to see if they had any miscellaneous parts that would work for what his new machine would require.

This is when I spotted it...the Jucit. Straight from the early 1970's. It was love at first sight.

The issue is though, I have a well-established "thing" for kitchen appliances. I already own an Omega juicer, a Vitamix blender and a Breville Sous Chef food processor. (I may have a small problem.)

Even though this appliance was only tagged at $4, I knew I was going to have to "sell" its features and benefits to my husband. I knew his first question was likely going to be "Is this something we really need, because you know we are going to have to store it and just where are you planning to keep it when you aren't using it?"

Both were valid questions and I had exactly the time it would take me to cart this beauty the distance of two store aisles to formulate my pitch. I took my time and sauntered over to where he was. (This was partly because my new juicer was freaking heavy and I didn't want to drop it on my toes. I recognized that if I did, a fracture would be eminent.)

I stood close to him, so that he could hear me as I softly cooed "Do you remember how much fun we had juicing oranges in Spain?" He didn't looked up at me, from the box of parts he was sifting through and said "Yeah, you mean with that plastic automatic juicer that had no balls?" "We'd get to the second orange, of the dozen and it would stall-out." "Yes", I replied, trying not to let on that I was up to something. In my head, I was thinking about how much I agreed with Betty White. I think that using the word "balls" to describe something tough is an oxymoron. Balls are squishy, quite soft and vulnerable. They are dangling orbs of storage, that quite frankly aren't tough at all. (Unlike vaginas that can really take a pounding. Just think about that for a minute.)

If you want to talk about something being tough, we really should say "yeah it has vagina, it can take a licking and keep on ticking, just like a Timex watch."

Repeatedly, I might add. (Let's see if a set of balls can do that.)

So, I say "You'll never guess what I found". "It's vagina tough". He looked up at me because he subconsciously realized that BJ had infiltrated our conversation and it was about to become interesting in a decidedly manly way.

I knew I had his attention, so I kept up with my strategy. "It's substantial in its weight, plus it's compact. I think it's from the late 60's or early 70's. It's well engineered, has all its original parts and I think it will deliver the torque needed to get beyond second base. 

(To recap, I just used well engineered, torque and getting beyond second base all in the same sentence. How's that for guy-speak foreplay in the middle of a second hand store? Brilliant, I thought.)

I passed him my Jucit and he looked it up and down. He took all the parts off the shaft and examined them. Noting that the reamer was actually solid porcelain and it wasn't chipped. Then he turned the unit upside down, remarking about how heavy it was and that you wouldn't want to drop it on your toe. I smiled. He read the specs that were printed on the bottom. 1.75 watts, 120 volts, 125 watts and made in the United States. "It won't take very much power to run it and it really should be able to produce some torque, given how it has been designed."

"Great!", I said. "It takes me forever to squeeze lemons by hand and I use lemon juice all the time. It's worth $4 just to  be able to produce lemon juice quickly."

"I think you should buy it. I know it's another appliance but it's built exceptionally well."

"Done!", I said. The Jucit made it past home plate.

I am also happy to report that it does have torque and it is vagina tough.

Here's what it looks like:

The porcelain reamer.

 

The base which contains a heavy motor.

The juice tray and spout.

The pulp and seed strainer.

Juicing oranges in action. It takes 2 oranges to fill a glass.

It reams oranges really well and not much is left.

Equally as efficient with lemons. 3 lemons produced 3/4 of a glass full of lemon juice.

We were both intrigued by this appliance's construction so my husband took it apart to inspect it. (He is now in the process of cleaning and oiling it, so it will last another 40 years.)

I welcome your comments and I invite you to follow me on my journey.

~ Rebecca Ryan