I’ve written about kitchen tools I think every home cook should own, and gadget game-changers, such as bog-standard supermarket whisks. Now, with some trepidation and a notional trigger warning, I present the villains of the cutlery drawer. These items seemed like a good idea at the time and have ended up being totally useless, at least in my opinion.
Silicone-tipped tongs

I have a particular hatred for silicone-tipped tongs. The thick silicone coating blunts their edges, making them less effective for picking things up. Give me cheap aluminium tongs every time, and a dozen of the smaller versions. Plain tongs may not be things of beauty but they are so much better for serving salads or charcuterie platters than anything else I’ve come across.
Silicone spatulas

Silicone spatulas don’t scrape the cake bowl as cleanly as those wafer-thin moulded plastic spatulas that tragically seem to have gone out of production. I can’t pass an op-shop without combing through the used cutlery section in the hope of adding to my already impressive collection.
Glass chopping boards

Another shining example of style over substance, the feel of blade on glass is bone-jarring and the sound reminds me of fingernails on a blackboard. There is no “give” in glass, so your knives are more likely to be blunted.
The only advantage of glass boards – and I’m reluctant to concede even one – is that they may be washed (and therefore sanitised) in a dishwasher. Give me a wooden chopping board with its imperfections and battle scars any day. No, they can’t be washed in a dishwasher or even immersed in water for a handwash, but with a minimal amount of effort they won’t pose a threat to your health. I know there are people with serious allergies out there who need the reassurance of a germ-free cutting surface. But the obsession of the rest of the population with minimising exposure to germs baffles me. I am one of those naysayers who thinks exposure to germs in childhood makes for a more resilient constitution in adulthood.
Ceramic knives

Ceramic blades are rust resistant and their density renders them more sanitary, but I have yet to be convinced of their superiority and it seems I am not alone in my scepticism. In a recent Guardian interview of 16 chefs, all of them nominated a stainless steel knife as their favourite. Ceramic blades have no flex and are less porous than stainless steel blades, making them – like glass chopping boards – less giving. You can’t cut anything with them that isn’t easily sliced, such as gourds and other thick-skinned fruit.
Pineapple peelers

For the uninitiated, this plastic yellow gadget dominated the pineapple-loving market until as recently as the 1990s. The Ashdown Pineapple Peeler was first demonstrated on the telly in 1972. It has since had copycat designs from other brands but the original earned a place in the social history department of the Queensland Museum and can be found on eBay in its original box for the bargain price of $12 plus postage.
My partner’s aunt, Wendy, still has one. After removing the spiky green top, the device is affixed to the flat exposed top of a pineapple and rotated around, circle by circle. Her advice is to save your money: “A good knife would do it just as well,” she said. And she didn’t mean a ceramic one.
Walnut cracker

Another much-hyped device taking up valuable real estate in my second drawer down is a heavy-duty walnut cracker – with studded steel “collar” to inflict maximum damage and sleek handles to complement the decor. It is quite effective if you like your walnuts smashed to smithereens.
My research into the art of cracking walnuts led to a world of pain for the unsuspecting walnut. I’ve put them through various instruments of torture that involve turning screws, leveraging adjustable jaws and even dropping a cannonball from a great height.
In my experience, the most effective way to crack a walnut is using a table knife to pierce the soft membrane dividing the two halves, then twisting gently to open it. The walnut meat can be removed whole or in large pieces, with minimal trauma to the nut, cheeseboard and dinner guests. Sometimes the most effective kitchen gadget is the simplest.