Friends, you are looking at a woman who has had a little bit of an epiphany. For years, I've rarely been able to muster more than marginal interest for the seasonal event commonly referred to as spring cleaning. It was a chore...it had to be done...but it wasn't something that I looked forward to.

This year however, an exploration into the deepest, darkest recesses of a particularly hard to reach kitchen cabinet yielded a couple of (drum roll, please)...

Vintage Italian lemon squeezers...perfectly designed little utensils that I fondly remember my mother adding to the general assemblage of knives, forks, and picks whenever we cracked a crab or did unseemly things to a lobster. I haven't seen any single slice juicers since...and imagined, as is usually the case, that these had been mislaid at some point...never to be heard from again.

And so, I'm a convert to the religion of the seasonal clean. One small step for Hebden-kind...one worrying development for all seafood...