Robert Griffin III is a quarterback for the Washington Redskins. He is very famous, and is also getting married, and like most couples, he has a registry. We have no opinions on towels or housewares other than to say that if you ask for a paraffin bath, you have officially run out of things to ask for on a registry.
Kitchen gear, on the other hand, is passion, and a window into the soul of the buyer. The following items are all from Robert Griffin III's wedding registry. All tell a story: a parable of love, of youth embarking on the hard work of adulthood, and of a young professional football player so bent on greatness he even desires to be master of things like snacks, cookies, and flan.
Few things are more useless than champagne flutes. They're basically designed to explode when the glass in them rises to the temperature of the human hand, and tip over in the stiff breeze of a home HVAC system.
Why, I've had a pair of champagne flutes we got for our wedding for over a decade! That's great, Banal Overachiever of the Internet. Please brag about paying bills on time and never getting ingrown nails somewhere else. The rest of us get drunk around glassware, and that's how glassware ends up shattered and champagne ends up in a coffee cup when the guests come over. Stemmed glassware is insanity for imaginary people who never break things, floss daily, and can wear white pants without staining the living hell out of them. Ask your offensive linemen for better options. They know what's durable, and what gets destroyed by the faintest flick of the wrist or a large dog's tail.
FLATWARE IS AN INVESTMENT, ROBERT. If a Baylor education doesn't teach you this, then Baptists are truly worse at home economics than even their criminal church picnic casseroles would suggest. The tiny spoon in the middle is for stretching out a carton of Ben and Jerry's over three nights instead of two, and not for tea or some other crap. You'll never have tea, because you live in America and drink coffee.
This probably isn't a subtle "kiss my ass" to Rob Parker and his comments about RG3 entering into an interracial marriage. I'll assume it is anyway, because I've always wanted to own the serving bowl that is both functional and a biting protest of racial intolerance.
It is at this point that I get concerned for you, RG3. You did not make this choice. Your wife made this choice, and it's clear at this point that she has plans. She is dreaming of a night when you will stay in on Friday night and make Paninis, and watch House Hunters International! Won't that be fun? No?
No. You may be a Heisman Trophy winner and budding NFL star, but you are still a 23-year-old man. You'd rather order in Chinese, eat too much of it, and watch pornography. A panini pan as a relevant lifestyle piece shouldn't even appear on your radar until the age of 30, much less at your age. Also, your housekeeper is going to scrub the nonstick coating right off it no matter how many times you warn them. Either they're going to do it, or you will. Choose one, young millionaire.
Skimping on knives is the culinary equivalent of getting a left tackle off the practice squad: it will cut you, and cut you badly one day. I'm not saying you splash out for some occult German superblades hewn from a reconstituted katana, but for pete's sake at least get up to a Williams-Sonoma level of Wüsthof competence here.
NOW WE'RE TALKING FLAVOR. A toaster oven is firmly within the range of a 23-year-old's kitchen competence, and is a loyal friend held over from college. It even has convection! Whatever that is, it's probably something that will make your bagel bites taste even better than you possibly imagined they could be. I'm feeling better about your marriage already, because no woman has ever put a toaster oven on a wedding registry ever. You're clearly involved and interested here, and that's what matters.
P.S. There is a half-inch of crumbs at the bottom of this oven already. There will ALWAYS be a half-inch of crumbs at the bottom of this oven.
Quoth Jon Bois: "It's a sewing machine for cake!" Someone's thinking about baking, and that someone is not concerned about the practicalities in the least. A KitchenAid takes up exactly 392 square feet of counter-space. You will use it three, perhaps four times a year, and then realize you have not purchased any of the thirty-five different and expensive attachments necessary to perform your desired task. ("Please attach Turkey Demolisher.") It is the Albert Haynesworth of your kitchen roster, in other words. It makes sense if this is a tender homage to RG3's boss, which we will assume it is.
Breadmakers are in the Skymall class of consumer goods of expensive and convoluted widgetry designed to take something simple and pleasant that normally costs less than two dollars of labor and capital and turn it into an expensive, soulless, and terrible exercise performed by robots. So yes, an NFL player should by all means use one of these without irony or thinking twice. Hell, buy ten of them while you're at it.
I don't know if he got past the word "Snackmaster." I almost didn't. By purchasing this you become the Snackmaster yourself, a titled noble in the family of various -masters of inestimable repute in Americana:
- The Sunbeam Mixmaster
- The Catmaster (just some homeless guy with eighty-five cats who lives under I-24 in Chattanooga)
Please note the "...and Jerky Maker." If a 23-year-old man was not already on board with the Snackmaster, he was thrown bodily into the boat by the addition of the words "and Jerky Maker." Anything is made more palatable to a young man from Texas with the addition of the words "and Jerky Maker." This appliance is secretly the air filter from a 1998 Saab 900 SL.
Just official confirmation that Robert Griffin III will buy anything described as a master or tyrant of its culinary art: The Snackmaster, the Cookie Master, the Curdmaster, the Sardinemaster, the Cupcake Duchess, the Steakführer, or the Genghis Flan. RG3 will buy ANYTHING implying a feudal overlord's power over food. In comparison, does Geno Smith have this desire to dominate every angle of his life? Probably not, and I'm relying on anonymous sources who tell me that the former West Virginia QB once tried to cook a whole turkey one patch at a time with a George Foreman Grill.