The cabinet above the fridge is my kitchen’s Island of Lost Toys. A mandoline I used exactly once and then saw a TikTok of someone nearly losing a finger, so never touched again. A spiralizer that made zucchini noodles before I finally admitted to myself that zucchini is…not a noodle. The list goes on. We all have a version of this Impulse Purchase Purgatory. The place where all the well-intentioned gifts and things we *added to cart* at midnight go to fester until the yearly Purge.

What I’ve learned is that the tools that actually change how you cook are the ones that remove friction from things you do every day. The can opener you wrestle with or the scale you don't own and therefore estimate everything (incorrectly). The tiny annoyances that add up to a dinner that felt harder than it needed to be.

Today I’m swallowing my pride and breaking down the things I'd actually buy again (in an effort to remind myself that I can, in fact, clear out that cupboard).

I want to spend a minute on the can opener because I think we've all collectively agreed to suffer in silence about this one.

The average American household opens somewhere around 1,000 cans every year. That sounds absurd, but between canned tomatoes, chickpeas, coconut milk, beans, corn, broth, etc. canned goods are the backbone of actual weeknight cooking. Most of us are opening them with a tool that feels like it’s from the middle ages and requires the grip strength of a professional arm wrestler. In the end, you’re left with a razor with a vendetta against your palm, spillage, and a (hopefully) opened can.

I started using the Kitchen Mama Orbit One Electric Can Opener a few months ago and I am genuinely a little annoyed it took me this long to make the swap. You press one button. It starts. It stops on its own when it's done. The blade cuts along the side of the lid, rather than the top, so there's no sharp metal edge, and the blade never actually touches the food inside (which, when I found out that was even a concern, gave me the ick in hindsight). Aaand, it's cordless and rechargeable, so the friction of fighting the tangle (like I do every time I wrestle my hand mixer) is gone.

The new Royal Colors edition just launched with Royal Burgundy and Royal Emerald and they’re pretty on my counter (which I realize sounds like the most sponsored sentence I've ever written, but I'm saying it anyway because my kitchen is full of beige appliances and the bar for "looks nice" is low and these clear it easily, let me have this one please). The part that my grandma loved was the fact that it’s one touch, so there’s no twisting, cranking, or dramatic re-gripping halfway through. Snag one here!

I am about half a decade too late, but I did recently fall victim to the sourdough making craze…

*a moment of silence for my first loaf, and my sourdough discard bagels, please*

This latest obsession has meant that I have finally needed to acquire a kitchen scale because my “educated guesstimates” (read: blind faith) just doesn’t cut it when there’s actual science involved.

The Kitchen Mama Q-Series Digital Food Scale (new release, May 2026) is what I'd recommend here for a few reasons.

I thought I was only going to use it for bread and other baking bits and bobs, but I’ve found myself reaching for it (because mine is teal and lives on my counter) more and more for day to day cooking. It takes the estimation out of cooking and since being in the kitchen is my flow state playground, anything that means I don’t have to think is a win for me. Here’s the link to the one I got!