a tale of two food processors

I got the brand name of my shitty Korean food processor wrong the last time I wrote about it. I think I called it "HiBrand," but in fact, it's "HiMade." The thing is a piece of garbage; that's what you get when you shell out $130 for an unknown brand of food processor that comes with no special features and is, in fact, a pain in the ass to use. One problem: removal of the blade isn't simple; there's actually a screw involved. You unscrew the screw, then pull the blade out, and the screw represents yet another thing you need to wash. Second annoyance: the processor's bowl is made of metal, with only a sliver of transparent plastic providing the home cook with a grudging view of what's happening while the blade spins. Final annoyance, which I wrote about before: the motor heats up after only three minutes of use. The unpleasant, acrid smell of burning circuitry was almost nauseating, so there's no way I'm regifting this machine for some other, unsuspecting victim. No: to the trash it goes, and let that be a lesson to me—never buy food processors from brand names I don't recognize.

So what I did was search around for a Cuisinart since that's what I used to have in the States. Found a nice one on GMarket and tried to order it... but I received a cancellation notification because someone forgot to update the website to note the machine wasn't in stock. So I went to Amazon and ordered one from the States. With shipping costing about $110, I knew this would be an expensive investment, but also a worthwhile one. The Cuisinart arrived three days ago, and it came with an array of accessories, unlike my Korean abortion. There was the standard blade, plus the slicer blade, and the grater blade, not to mention the dough blade... and with this particular model, there was also a heavy, mean-looking dicer blade, which I'm now itching to try out.

Here's a look at both of my machines, with the ironically named HiMade on the left:

Guess which one is going downstairs to the garbage area. With appliances, furniture, and other unwieldy items, we residents have to pay the B1-level security guard a small trash-disposal fee because special items get taken out by a special truck. For my device, this fee will probably be around $5, but once the low-born HiMade is gone, that'll free up storage space for the Cuisinart. A closer look at the turd:

Next, a look inside. Note the star-shaped screw on top of the blade. Unscrewing it requires turning it clockwise (it's "righty-loosey" instead of "lefty-loosey" for whatever reason), which is also annoying. The screw is long, and it looks as if it might rust easily. Screwing and unscrewing the blade feels like a waste of time, not to mention a bit primitive. Give me a plain ol' snap-tight blade, and I'm good to go. Here's the inside:

A look at the entire Cuisinart set:

The cost, on Amazon, for the above set—not including shipping—was $170. Just a few dollars more than what I'd paid for the HiMade machine, and I got a complete set of accessories along with the machine itself. Had it not been for shipping costs, the Cuisinart would easily have been a much more economical purchase. Given the Cuisinart's quality, though, I still think I've done well by getting this machine. I keep wondering what moved me to buy an unknown Korean brand; God knows I've had bad luck with doing that in the past. This isn't to say that all Korean products are shite: on the contrary, well-known Korean brands are usually associated with great products, like my Samsung cell phone, which I've owned since 2013, and which still works almost perfectly. But going out on a limb and buying something from a no-name company is probably a bad idea. I should've listened to the angel on my shoulder.

Below: my Cuisinart's user manual and a scraper spatula for dealing with flung food. Inside the plastic container is the dicer blade I referred to earlier (it's pictured on the manual):

A closeup of the main Cuisinart, with a mixing bowl that contains a mini-bowl within it, plus an adjustable-width feeder that includes modules you can fill with oil. Pour the oil in, and the tiny hole at the bottom allows the oil to trickle out at a slow rate, which gives you slow, steady mixing. Here's that closeup:

Finally, a shot of the accessories that come with the machine, plus the container into which they can be organized. I used to have almost exactly this machine back home, and I can't wait to try this one out. Bye bye, HiMade and your smoking innards! Fie! Begone!

ADDENDUM: the only hitch, with the Cuisinart, is that it's American, so it's got a 110-volt plug—the wrong shape for my European-style 220-volt plugs here in Seoul. Not to worry: I have a "down" transformer that converts 220 to 110 and also has US-style sockets on its face. So we're good... as long as I'm okay with dragging the processor over to my computer desk. Yeah, I might end up buying a second transformer to put in the kitchenette.