Show and Tell is an occasional recurring feature of Inconspicuous Consumption, with most of the entries contributed by IC readers. Today’s installment is from reader Ilana Hardesty. Enjoy! — Paul
By Ilana Hardesty
This potato masher was my mother’s. I don't think she was particularly fond of mashed potatoes, but she made them for my Midwestern father. I always liked using it when I cooked with her as a kid. It felt solid and heavy then, and it still does now, more than 50 years later.
I had mostly forgotten about the masher until my sister and I were recently trying to winnow down my mother’s possessions after moving her to a nursing home. My sister took the good china; I took the potato masher. It was one of the few items I wanted — no, needed. I use it regularly (it makes very short work of a full pot of potatoes), and I think of my mom each time.
A potato masher may be a quotidian thing, but this particular model is in the permanent collection of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, so I’m not the only one who appreciates it.
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Paul here. I love this story — a great example of how a simple object can connect us to important memories and family connections. Big thanks to Ilana for sharing it with us.
Incidentally, it’s no fluke that this product is in a museum. It was made by the Chicago-based kitchen utensil company Ekco, as part of their “Flint” product line, which is generally considered a high point in midcentury American design. The Museum of Modern Art in New York has a bunch of Ekco Flint utensils (but not the potato masher, alas), and Ekco Flint items are very popular among thrifters and collectors.
Here’s a short video that provides a glimpse into Ekco’s Chicago factory in the 1950s:
How do I know all of this about Ekco? Because I grew up in an Ekco Flint household myself. My mom had that same potato masher, along with a bunch of other Ekco items. Unfortunately, I never claimed any of them like Ilana did — something I now regret.
If you want to learn more about Ekco (the name comes from the company’s founder, Edward Katzinger), there’s a good backgrounder here.
Want to be considered as a potential Show and Tell participant? Send an email here with at least one good photo of your significant object and text telling the object’s story (anywhere from 150 to 400 words). Thanks!
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Paul Lukas has been obsessing over the inconspicuous for most of his life, and has been writing about those obsessions for more than 30 years. You can contact him here.
I had this same masher, too, handed down from my folks, but ultimately got rid of it because of its aggravating quality of jamming my kitchen drawer 😩
We've got the same model, with a seafoam green handle. Also great for bruising cabbage when you're making sauerkraut