I tried to spray this post with perfume, but I don't think it worked.

Bubba made an astute observation last weekend as I served him something like his fourth meal from the new food processor:

"I thought we weren't supposed to eat processed foods."

Not that either of us really believe that this rule extends to food just briefly touched by My New Kitchen Hunnie, but still, it made me laugh a little.

Mostly because he didn't even take a breath between his observation and diving headlong into a bowl of gazpacho, freshly processed by Cuisinart, dontchaknow.

Not that this preparation sets it apart from any other meal, snack or otherwise from the weekend, because it doesn't.

Everything homemade that went into our mouths (because, hello, we still had to have pupusas from our favorite place) from Friday to, uh, Monday I think, came from the new food processor. Because I'm like a kid on Christmas with a new toy. I'm going to play with it and integrate it into every cranny of my life until it's wearing a cape and sleeping in bed with me at night.

Except without the cape and sleeping in my bed thing. And also, I doubt I'll get tired of it in a week and leave it out in the rain to rot with last year's kitchen obsession - the hot water canner. Since you KNOW the canner is getting lots of use already. With more planned. Just you stay tuned for Tomato Glut 2009.

Anyway. This post actually IS about the Cuisinart, and all of the many fabulous things I made with it in just a few day's time because I simply can't do things in moderation it would seem. Not that I got any complaints, but how could one complain when one's mouth is filled with fresh bread, dill pickles, strawberry rhubarb crisp, gazpacho or fresh salsa?

One couldn't. Which is just another reason why my New Kitchen Hunnie is so incredible.

Let's see photographic evidence, shall we?

Fastest loaf in the west.

Firstly, the bread. I put bread first here because I'm pretty sure it's what broke the camel's back. And by camel, I mean me, of course - sans humps though.

See, the germ of desire for a larger food processor had begun to grow in me long ago, perhaps when I first tried to jam more than 3 cups of ingredients into my 3 cup food processor, suddenly realizing the limitations of said food processor.

What? You can't put 2 1/2 cups of flour, 1/2 cup of butter and a cup of sugar into this thing without it jamming up and shooting shit all over my kitchen? WHAT A RIP! OH! And now I have to get the mixer dirty, TOO, because I have to move it all over there?? UGH! LAME!

Yeah. It was a hard lesson to learn. And I'm sure it won't surprise you that it took me more than one go with an overstuffed food processor to realize that the 3 cup annotation is on there not just for looks and not just so that you can know how much salsa you've just made. No, it's also there to tell you how much shit you can process with it.

You might be going, "Duh, woman." right now, but I assure you, sometimes it takes me a long time to get to "Duh." But when I do, I totally get it. And then I go buy the biggest fucking food processor I can find.

So, if we are to retrace our steps back through this meandering maze of a story, the Straw here was this recipe for Food Processor White Bread.

Basically, I came across the recipe a few weeks ago and when it said, "Make it today!", I took it to heart and then became wildly disappointed with my life because, sadness, my food processor wasn't up to the task.

At this moment, Amazon and I reignited our latent love affair. Our love child is the Cuisinart you see in all these photos.

But then, with the new love child on the way, I began to nest. In the cooking sense of the word. I began to assemble all the recipes of things that require processing and, usually, were made up of more than 3 cups of ingredients.

Which is how we ended up with all the pickles (hello, 7 lbs of pickles were processed in ONE BATCH - that is rad), the bread, salsa from all the tomatoes, cilantro, peppers and onions from the garden, gazpacho from the new crop of cucumbers (they never stop I tell you) with some more tomatoes and, finally, strawberry rhubarb crisp.

If you were to look into my soul, this is what you'd see. Sort of.

There's another story that goes with the strawberry rhubarb crisp, but it's another meandering tale during which you will become bored of me and leave the blog forever, so I will spare you, however, the shorter story goes like this:

My neighbors are awesome and brought home rhubarb from one of their mom's gardens in Wisconsin and then gave me some because when they asked if I liked rhubarb, I fainted on their floor.

True story. Ish.

You should sit down for this.

I *wanted* to faint on their floor. Because my love for rhubarb knows no bounds. And when you combine it with strawberries and bury it under a proper crisp topping? Fainting becomes so likely I have had to lie down to write this part of the post.

Seriously, this is my favorite FAVORITE favorite pie/crisp/cobbler/whatever flavor combo in all of Dessertdom. Even more than *gasp* blackberries.

I KNOW.

So, anyway, when she offered me a big honking bundle of fresh rhubarb PLUS a basket of strawberries *they couldn't possibly eat*, I just tacked the crisp onto the many other food process-y things I had on the docket for the weekend and began to draft a sultry love poem for my beloved, the crisp.

Don't worry, Bubba understands. As I will share with you shortly.

Thanks to my 14 cup all-star, though, it took hardly any time to make. And, thanks to my unquenched desire for strawberry rhubarb anything, it also took hardly any time to eat.

Thankfully the awesome neighbors agreed to come over for dinner and help us deal with the situation so that I wouldn't shame myself. Sadly, they weren't around two nights ago when Bubba came home from work and found me in a lover's embrace with the remains of the crisp still in its Pyrex.

It's not how it looks. Honest. I was thinking of you the whole time.

When, actually it was exactly how it looked and I was thinking of nothing but getting to the bottom of that dish come hell or high water, but Bubba understands because that's what he does with the blackberry pies and so, I can not judge him later when I make him a blackberry pie and he proposes marriage to said pie in my presence.

See? We're very accepting of each other's quirks around here. Strangely though, they mostly involve berries. Odd, that.

Anyway, to sum up this flagrant saucy love letter to my Cuisinart, I will say that this thing is awesome, quiet, efficient, easy to clean and such an utter necessity in my kitchen that I know I will love it long time. And, plus, the little Cuisinart looks so happy to have a friend in the cupboard.

That's what it's all about, Cuisinart happiness. And pie. Lots of pie.