As many sharp readers may have guessed, I’m not only a cook, amateur writer and degenerate wastrel, but a huge… And I mean HUGE geek. Capital G!
I love 80s ‘wrasslin, comic books, Godzilla flicks and nostalgic video games almost as much as love shaping dumplings or searing duck breasts. So when I was researching my 2014 Holiday Guides (plural, I also have a gift guide for foragers in the works that probably won’t make it out before X-Mas) I was floored by the massive amount of geek-centric kitchen gifts available to the internet-savvy public.
Sites like Nerd Approved, Archie MacPhee’s, and Pintrest led me down a long ‘n dark rabbit hole of nerdy kitchen accessories. This stuff is serious kitsch… It’s like the internet knows me!
There is one piece of culinary wisdom that I feel it is my sacred duty to pass on to anyone I know. Something that every professional, amateur and aspiring-to-someday-be home cook needs to know and pass on to their children, and their children’s children. This little piece of knowledge can transform the mind, body and soul of cook and diner alike. It can save the world! 
Looking back at my formative years in Southeastern Ontario, I’ve realized how many of my memories of Christmas smell like cloves and taste like pig. My mom’s Christmas ham was a beautiful beast. An un-apologetic 1950’s-syle mountain of honey-glazed pork covered in glowing orange slices shot through with cloves. The table would groan under the weight of the unwieldy thing, and our stomachs would groan with anticipation as it was carved.