About Me

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Back in the 80s, I wrote a book called "Voyaging on a Small Income", which was published and sold astonishingly well. It’s become almost a “classic” and is probably why you’ve found this site! I’ve been living aboard and sailing since the 70s. Nine different boats have been home, sometimes for several months, sometimes for many years. I love the way of life, the small footprint and being close to Nature. I’m a great fan of junk rig and having extensive experience with both gaff and bermudian rig, I wouldn’t have any other sail on my boat. It’s ideal as a voyaging rig, but also perfect for the coastal sailing that I now do. I’d rather stay in New Zealand, not having to keep saying goodbye to friends, than go voyaging, these days. Between 2015 and 2021, I built the 26ft "FanShi", the boat I now call home. For the last 45 years or so, my diet of choice has been vegetarian and is now almost vegan. I love cooking and particularly enjoy having only myself to please. I am combining all these interests (apart, perhaps, from junk rig!) in this blog. I hope you enjoy it. I also have other blogs: www.anniehill.blogspot.com and http://fanshiwanderingandwondering.wordpress.com

Galley Equipment

 

Credit: Janette Watson

 

 I adore walking round kitchen shops and looking at all the nifty tools and gadgets. Judging by the variety, the attractiveness and the range available, lots of other people buy them, too. Somebody must, to keep both shops and manufacturers in business. But the truth of the matter is that very few of these clever devices are necessary: I once read that if a piece of kitchen equipment has an ingredient name in it (egg slicer), then it’s probably completely unnecessary. This is a reassuring thought when organising your galley because all boats have more or less restricted galley space. If you’re starting from scratch, you should first acquire only the essentials, and then add to these only when the lack of a particular item becomes a real irritation. As ever, the definition of ‘essential’ is somewhat idiosyncratic and you may well disagree with some of the following, which is my own list of essentials. Different styles of cooking and different tastes will necessarily alter one’s priorities. I am uninterested in eating dessert and no doubt some people couldn’t live without something I’ve never even considered. Indeed, since building my boat, I’ve come to realise that a number of items I really considered essential ten years ago aren’t necessary. I suspect that now that I’m a singlehander, this might have refined my needs. However, my minimal list is a starting point from which to work, and it may help both to clarify the thoughts of an experienced cook, wondering what to bring aboard from her kitchen, and point the neophyte in the right direction.

The first necessity for cooking is some sort of pan. Pans are a very personal thing, I find, but if you’re starting fitting out your galley from scratch, and don’t have any particular prejudices the following comments may be of help.

Pans should be broad-based and deep so that they retain their contents and don’t tip over, but on a boat, a tall pan is generally a better bet than a wide one, because they need less room on the cooker – often an issue on a boat – and even if your cooker is gimballed, you may want to put the pan down on the counter, where a shallow one might spill its contents. It’s worth investing in the best you can afford: apart from anything else, they will last so long as to be cheaper in the long run – I still have one I was given as a wedding present in 1975: it comfortably outlasted the marriage!   When choosing your pans, try and make sure that they’ll fit on your cooker with your frying pan. The pressure cooker will probably be the largest pot, and for many boat cookers, this will mean that your frying pan will be restricted to 230 mm (9 in). Most voyagers like to entertain aboard, and while I admit that not everyone sets a table with a white linen cloth, silver and cut glass, there’s a lot to be said for pans that can be put on the table as serving dishes, without calling for an apology. Assuming of course, that you are one of those who clean the outside of the pan as well as the inside.

My favourite pans are of good-quality steel, enamelled. They’re easy to clean and respond well to soaking if food should stick to them; they conduct heat evenly and are attractive to look at. As I mentioned, they last for years, if you look after them carefully. Cooking popcorn in them seems to make them superbly non-stick. Enamelled frying pans are less satisfactory, in my experience.


Stainless steel is a popular choice, but does need a laminated base to conduct the heat more evenly. Even so, I find that they often have hot spots, but for people who like to use metal tools in their pans, they’re the only sensible choice. Take a magnet with you, if you’re buying stainless steel: some of it is more stainless than others, as most of us who live on boats have discovered with ‛stainless steel’ fittings and fastenings, and with cookware, the grade is rarely indicated. Non-magnetic 316 has higher concentrations of nickel and molybdenum than 304, which is by far and away the more common type. Some 304 develops rust stains and will soon pit from the salty atmosphere; it can be identified by its being magnetic. There is obviously no standard formula for 304: some stands up nicely to salt, but I’ve had ‛stainless steel’ storage containers that have literally rusted through. You don’t necessarily get what you pay for, either. Stainless steel is often given a beautiful mirror finish: good stowage and a gentle hand with the scouring pad are required if you want to retain its attractive appearance.


It’s worth having a good look at the design of the handles, which are often very hard to clean around, where they meet the pot. Many are spot welded in place (as is the handle on the lid), and while they look neat and attractive, they’re not very easy to keep clean unless you happen to have a dishwasher. The spot weld is a weak point, too, if the pan does ‛rust’. The rolled stainless steel rim found on the majority of pans and lids, are also crud traps, which are not only aesthetically unappealing, but a possible health hazard in warmer climates. They can also be susceptible to corrosion.

Cast-iron pans, enamelled or otherwise, are not ideal on a boat because their weight makes them awkward to lift with one hand, which, even when using a galley strap, is often necessary. Should they come adrift, they will do more damage than a lighter pan and their weight means you need good, secure stowage for them. Many people will, however, make an exception for a frying pan. They are certainly wonderful pans if the weight isn’t an issue for you.

Cast aluminium is an attractive option. Most of the health concerns around them have been debunked and the more recent ones are hard-anodised, which makes them superbly non-stick and also able to tolerate a marine environment. I have a cast alloy pressure cooker

 (Hawkins Futura), which I’ve owned since 2010 and which still looks like good. I bought a cast alloy frying pan when I launched the boat, which seems to be standing up very well. I had less success with two saucepans I bought in the around 2007 and 2010, whose lining started to peel away. However, even the best of them don’t really appreciate having sharp metal tools used in them. The recent, non-Teflon coatings do, however, appear to be much more robust than their predecessors. Neither uncoated cast iron nor cast aluminium should be left with salt water on or in them for any length of time, or they will start to corrode.

Copper pans, although I’ve no experience of them, would seem to be an unsuitable choice for voyaging. At the best of times they need a lot of maintenance and I can’t imagine that frequent contact with salt water would be good for their appearance or lining.

Personally, I think it’s worth avoiding use metal tools in pans, which can nick and scratch them, making them more difficult to clean. They also do more damage to the counter, fiddles, cabin sole, etc, if you drop them. However, I am well aware that much of my prejudice comes from the fact that to me, metal on metal makes a dreadful noise that grates painfully.

All too often, handles give up long before the pan, which is probably why welding has become so popular. It’s worth thinking about however and I would count it as a plus if the handle can easily be repaired or replaced with a wooden one. While we’re on the subject of handles, a recent fashion seems to be for excessively long handles, which are potentially likely to get trapped on swinging stoves, and will be more awkward to stow. Pots with a small handle on either side require less space, but they often have to be put down in order to serve from them because they’re awkward to hold with one hand. They can, however, often be used in an oven.

Assuming minimalism, the most important pan for a vegetarian voyager is undoubtedly the pressure cooker. A pressure cooker is essential, if only because the lid is totally secure in very rough weather and allows you to cook a decent, hot, substantial meal without risk of spillage. A pressure cooker speeds up the cooking of beans immensely, making them easy to use on a daily basis, which is an important consideration for vegetarians. Lentils, split peas, mung beans, dal and black-eyed peas need no soaking and take only 10 minutes to cook, so can be used with almost as little preparation and forethought as opening a can. You can also cook brown rice in a quarter of the usual time. Pressure cookers are wonderful for soup, combining the flavours of the ingredients quickly, and they can be used to cook excellent cakes, where there is no oven. (I shall be blogging some recipes for this.) Essentially, there are two types: those with lids that clamp under the rim and those with lids that around the outside. The former tend to have cheaper and repairable gaskets, but can be more fiddly to use because the lid often has to be turned before inserting, due to being ovoid in shape; the latter are easier to scrape out and use as a normal pan and are more likely to have a variety of pressures. However, the gaskets tend to have a much shorter life and are expensive. Pressure cookers are manufactured in both aluminium and stainless steel. The latter is less subject to corrosion from seawater, unless it is anodised. Most people prefer a stainless steel pressure cooker, although they’re generally more expensive. Ideally, especially if you hope to exploit the full range of a pressure cooker’s potential, it should come with a range of pressures. Older, British pressure cookers use 1.1 bar (15 lb) pressure at full pressure; quite a few of the European brands use only 0.7 bar (10 lb), which makes them slower, but in truth, probably not enough to be an issue. However, for cakes and steamed puddings, you really do want to have access to 5 lb pressure, to stop the cakes/puddings being too heavy. From personal experience, I’d be inclined to avoid the cookers with built-in timers, as eventually they will probably succumb to the marine environment and may be difficult to replace. Keep it simple.

Many people are wary or even downright scared of pressure cookers, but if you’re going voyaging, you should learn to make friends with them: they’re the sailor’s microwave and of much more use to the real cook, who does more than simply hot up food. Modern, good quality pressure cookers, are designed to be very ‘user friendly’; indeed some of them have so many safety valves on them that they’re a fiddle to clean! If you’re unused to pressure cookers, carefully read the manufacturer’s instructions before starting and cook something simple, like potatoes, the first time you use one. Follow the instructions to the letter, until you get used to your pressure cooker and you should have no problems. The new-style cookers have controlled pressure release knobs, so that reducing pressure is a simple and relatively steam-free operation, which no longer requires buckets of cold water or nerves of steel. I nearly always let the pressure down at room temperature, a gentle operation: however, it’s one that takes a little while to perfect if you like your vegetables to retain some bite. I tend to use this method for everything, often reducing the cooking time a little to allow for the longer time under pressure. 

The use of a pressure cooker will also reduce both the amount of fresh water and the amount of fuel used. This not only applies to slow-cooking foods such as chick peas, which only need about 15 minutes at pressure, as opposed to 1 – 2 hours in a normal pan, but also to vegetables, which generally only take 3 minutes at pressure. An added advantage is that you can cook, for example, carrots, potatoes and runner beans all at the same time, without the flavours mingling. This is because the vegetables are cooked on a trivet, in steam above the water. If the vegetables aren’t actually standing in the water, you can use sea water instead of fresh. If your pressure cooker doesn’t come with a trivet, Prestige might sell them as a spare part, or you might find one in a second-hand shop.

A final use for a pressure cooker is for preserving food and meat eaters often appreciate this attribute. While most vegetarian voyagers are unlikely to do this on a regular basis, with the exception of jams, chutneys, etc, it’s convenient to be able to make use of occasional bargains. For example, I once put up several jars of cheap asparagus when I was in Argentina.

Now we come to the frying pan. For the most efficient use of stove space, the sides should be as near vertical as you can find, which, strictly, means that we are talking about a ‛skillet’. The ease of sliding out an omelette is, on most boats, of less importance than having the maximum pan capacity on what is usually, a fairly small stove. Unfortunately, I’ve come to the conclusion that most frying pans are a snare and a delusion and over the years have had more of this type of pan than any other. My first, enamelled, one was quite good, but the enamel wasn’t up to the direct and fierce heat from the ‘roarer’ burner Primus that I cooked on, when I was building Badger. Finally, it cracked and came off. This was replaced by an enamelled Le Creuset, cast-iron frying pan (which was given to me), but this proved to be a great disappointment and impossible to season, so that everything stuck to it. Then I bought a stainless steel one, designed for commercial use, which once seasoned was excellent, but it had very sloping sides so that it didn’t really have enough capacity. In 1990, in USA, I bought the simplest of cast-iron frying pans, as made for use on a cast-iron range. It needed no seasoning and proved entirely satisfactory and this is the type that many people would be happy with. However, I do find that the outside is subject to minor corrosion, so that its locker always has a fine layer of rust in it. (I find this a sufficient disadvantage that I prefer to use a cast alloy frying pan.) If you buy a new one, just wipe it clean for the first month or two, by which time the oil should have thoroughly penetrated all the pores, so that you can wash it without worrying about much about rust on the inside. If you use salt water to wash up in, I’d recommend rinsing it off with some fresh. Always ensure that it’s thoroughly dried(preferably over a very low flame) before putting it away . It may be worth wiping it over with cooking oil, as well: some boats have drier lockers than others. With moderate care, it will last practically forever. Even a good-quality, cast-iron frying pan can usually be bought quite inexpensively and they’re often for sale in second-hand shops.

It’s when you don’t have an oven that a cast-iron frying pan really comes into its own, for making things like pizza, quiche and bread (Recipes to follow!) Your frying pan probably won’t come with a lid, but these are available from kitchen shops and are worth having. One can also buy silicon lids for keeping things fresh in bowls, and these work very well on a frying pan and, being light and flexible, are easy to store. Lids may, however, slide off at sea if you have a fixed cooker, and it might be worth adjusting its fiddle rail to prevent this.

If you feel that your stowage is too damp for a cast-iron pan, the next best choice is a carbon steel one. These are also susceptible to rust, but they are a delight to cook with. Unfortunately, I’ve rarely seen them in skillet form. You can find them in shops that sell professional cookware. After that most people would probably go for stainless steel, ideally from a store selling professional cookware. (Many designed for home use tend to burn and encourage the food to stick.) As I mentioned, I had one for several years, and it was excellent, apart from not having enough capacity. Since then, I’ve had a very expensive one that was given to me, designed for the domestic cook, and it was useless, with the sides developing serious hot spots. A good-quality frying pan of sufficient capacity, can often substitute for a saucepan when making things like chilli or Bolognese sauce – hence all these USAnian recipes which call for a ‛skillet’. If space is really at a premium, you could probably do most things with just a pressure cooker and a frying pan/skillet.

Keeping to the minimalist theme, then, while a very small pan is not a lot of use on a boat, you do need one of about 1 ltr (1 qt) capacity for boiling eggs, making flour-based sauces, etc. This will permit you to make a cream sauce to go with your pasta, or custard for pouring over your pudding, neither of which would be particularly easy to do in a frying pan. This size of pan is ideal for polenta, rice, couscous, bulgur wheat, etc, when cooking for one or two people.

While some minimalists say that a kettle is an unnecessary addition to the galley, I would disagree. Yes, you can use a saucepan, but eventually the boat is going to lurch at a critical moment and the water will spill over you. A kettle also keeps washing up water hot for longer than will an open pan, is less likely to spill when full and is certainly superior for filling flasks, solar showers and hot water bottles. I like a larger one of around 2.5 ltr (2½ qt), but if you have running hot water on board, a 1 ltr (1 qt) one may be sufficient; although if you have pressurised hot water, you’re unlikely to be equipping a minimal galley.

Next, you need a 2 ltr (2 qt) saucepan, or slightly larger, which can be used for pasta sauces and all general cooking when you aren’t using your pressure cooker. Not having to be too minimalist, I find I use this pan a lot, but nearly always in conjunction with the pressure cooker or frying pan. It’s the most useful general-purpose pan, but its very lack of specialisation is what makes it a luxury.

A minimal pan locker would therefore contain: a pressure cooker, a 230 mm (9 in) frying pan and a 1 ltr (1 qt) saucepan. After that, I would add a kettle, followed by a 2 ltr (2 qt) saucepan. If space allows, another 2 ltr (2 qt) pan, or even a bit bigger, is useful, especially for entertaining.

Additional pans that might be much more appealing to some than to others are:

Wok For many people these are great, and, particularly if you like stir-fried food, it’s worth trying to find room for one. They also produce the perfect fried egg on a fixed cooker. They tend to be both high and wide: I used to have one of only 230 mm (9 in) diameter, which was easy to find a home for, but have never come across another to replace it. And in truth, after a couple of years, I no longer missed it.

150mm/6 in frying pan I have one of these because I love making Indian food and this tiny pan is ideal for tempering spices. I also use it for making flatbread.

Essential galley tools

Having assembled your pans, you need tools to prepare the food. In any galley, regardless of its size, I need 1 large, sharp knife; 1 knife sharpener; 1 cooking spoon for mixing food; 1 fish slice for turning fried food; 1 can opener. With these 5 basic tools, I can cook simple meals without too many problems.

A large, sharp knife is essential. Of course, if it’s the only one you have, you’ll use it for everything from watermelons to garlic, you’ll slice bread with it and peel turnips. It will probably be the most used tool in the galley. It needs to be sharp because you can’t cut food neatly and quickly with a blunt one, and indeed they can be quite dangerous because they can slide off and onto your hand, being still sufficiently sharp to cut that! From my own experience I would say don’t be tempted by a double-edged ‘Kitchen Devil; yes, they are extraordinarily sharp: sooner or later, you will cut your hand badly, by absent-mindedly pressing down on the back of it.

It’s no good buying a sharp knife if you can’t keep it that way, so a knife sharpener of some sort is required. There are many types, ranging from a simple stone to automatic devices. It doesn’t matter what sort you choose so long as you use it regularly. It’s not difficult to learn to use a steel and they last for years. The type that consists of two mini steels, held at an angle to each other is the easiest to use. You put the blade between the two and pull it backwards a few times. However, while they seem to work well on small knives, the one that I had, really damaged the blade of my big knife and it ended up very rough, even if it was sharp. I bought myself a decent, conventional steel, and after 18 months, the blade is almost smooth again. That being so, I’d stick with a conventional steel.

I prefer a cooking spoon made of some sort of plastic or wood because these materials are quieter in use and do less damage to the pans than metal. If you cook everything at blast furnace temperatures, or tend to leave your spoon on the cooker, you may be better off with metal. Most wooden spoons split after a few years and both they and many plastic spoons will get stained by curry or after a jam-making session. Wooden spoons can hold flavours and it’s worth having two – one for sweet and one for savoury dishes. However, they’re pretty cheap, so the fact that they don’t last forever isn’t that much of an issue, except when you have one that somehow feels just right. Some plastic spoons are a bit brittle and inclined to split. The black ones, which I think are made of some sort of reinforced nylon, are very good, but many black cooking tools are flexible and useless. Give one a bit of a work out before you decide to buy it. Like all plastic spoons, they don’t like intense heat, but I have an excellent one that I bought in Spain more years ago than I care to remember, and use it constantly.

A fish slice is essential even for those of us who never eat fish. They are ideal for fried eggs, omelettes, quiche, pizza, burgers, etc. I have an excellent one made by OXO, which is super flexible. It’s the only metal instrument I allow in my pans and I use it with great care. However, because it’s so thin and flexible, it’s useless for mixing up the food in the pan, so there’s no temptation to abuse my pans. Melamine ones are good, although they will eventually stain and split. While they will happily tolerate boiling oil, I wouldn’t like to leave them in hot oil for any length of time.

When it comes to cans, your Swiss Army knife would suffice in most instances, but if you don’t have one, a can opener is a necessity. The simple ones that consist of a small triangular spike attached at right angles to a 50 mm (2 in) handle, are foolproof, once you’ve got the knack of using them. I have only ever seen them sold in France, but I assume they exist elsewhere. While they leave a dangerously sharp edge to the can, that you might not like, have one anyway, because even the best of conventional can openers can be defeated by a rectangular cans. They will allow access to a can that the ring pull has come off, too. When it comes to those can openers with a geared handle, price, alas, is not necessarily a good indicator, nor indeed, is brand. The inadequate outnumber the good at a ratio of around 6:1. Buy your can opener well before your first voyage and use it a lot; try it on a four-sided can to see how it handles odd shapes. A badly-designed can-opener is even more frustrating than a badly-designed jug. (When disposing of rubbish is an issue, it’s worth cutting both ends of a can and squashing them flat. They take up a lot less room.)

Nearly-essential galley tools

Given a little more space, the following eight items are so nearly essential that I would somehow always make room for them: a small, sharp knife; a mini whisk; a set of measuring cups; a set of measuring spoons; a soup ladle; a pair of kitchen scissors; a bread knife; a mini grater.

A small, sharp knife is almost essential for peeling some fruit or vegetables, even if you have a Swiss peeler (q.v.). It’s also better than a big knife for fine work, such as mincing garlic. Having more than one knife does mean that there’s a clean one to hand if the other is particularly messy, like when you’ve been preparing breadfruit.

For the sort of cooking that I do, a balloon whisk is unnecessary. I don’t use egg whites or have a use for whipped cream, and tend to cook small quantities of such things as batter. I find my mini whisk more than adequate for what I use it for: salad dressings, batter, mixing liquids for seitan, combining dry ingredients evenly; mixing powdered milk, etc. I have also used it for frothing milk for coffee and occasionally I use it for making a masala paste. They are excellent for making mayonnaise and even a small one is quite adequate. Mine is small, rather than mini at 150 mm (6 ins) long.

Measuring cups are exceptionally useful on a boat, where scales often won’t work well: all you need is a bit of a popple and they go up and down of their own accord, regardless of whether there is anything in the weighing pan. With measuring cups, you can cope quite happily, even close-hauled in F5 and measure directly from the container into the pot. Many people mock the use of measuring cups – ‘I just put in what looks right,’ but they not only allow you to reproduce a given recipe with some expectation that the result will be as intended, they also permit you to repeat your own successful experiments. They also make it easy to double up on your favourite recipes when you have people aboard for a meal and using just what is required saves waste.

All you really require, in my experience, is 1/4 cup and 1/2 cup. However, they usually come in sets that stack nicely and don’t take up much room and you will then have: 1 cup (250 ml), 1/2 cup (125 ml), 1/3 cup (80 ml), 1/4 cup (60 ml). You don’t need to be an Einstein to find the flaw in the arithmetic, which is why really Super Cooks use scales. Believe me, the cups will work just fine. A measuring jug will do instead, but is less easy to use; your favourite mug, appropriately marked will suffice, particularly if it’s a standard 8 oz (250 ml) size (although mugs seem to be getting larger and larger, like most things). It’s the proportions that count. However, a word of warning. Occasionally, the measures: 250 ml, etc tend, to be nominal, to put it kindly. If the cups are bought as a set, they will usually be matched, so that 1/4 cup will be an honest 1/4 of the full cup. You will appreciate this when you are cooking rice, for example, where you want the water to rice ratio to be 2:1 and not 2-and-a-bit:1. The measuring spoons that go with them will also tie in, in most cases. If your collection consists of a set of spoons and a set of cups bought at different times, or a totally eclectic selection, I suggest that you rate them, so to speak, so that you don’t find yourself having unexpected and unpleasant results when following recipes.

There are also those who mock at measuring spoons, but if you want next week’s curry to taste as good as the one you just made, use the spoons. They are related to cup measures, insofar as 4 tbsp = 1/4 cup. Measuring spoon sizes should be as follows: 1 tbsp (15 ml), 1 dsp (dessert spoon) (10 ml), 1 tsp (5 ml), 1/2 tsp (2.5 ml), 1/4 tsp (1.25 ml). Again, check them before buying; some mavericks have 12 ml dsp and 3 ml for 1/2 tsp; I don’t use dsp measures at all. Australians have a 20 ml tbsp. North American measures are: 1 tbsp = 1/2 fl oz, 1 tsp = 1/6 fl oz, 1/2 tsp = 1/12 fl oz, 1/4 tsp = 1/24 fl oz. And, for the sake of completeness, a cup is 8 fl oz. There is no dsp measure. Incidentally, just for the sake of information, a North American fluid ounce is different from an Imperial (British) fluid ounce being 29.57 ml, as distinct from 28.4 ml, which is why on those rare occasions that North American liquid products are marked in both fl oz and ml they look wrong. And of course a USAnian pint is 16 fl oz (theirs) rather than 20 fl oz (British). And you wonder why we went metric! However, we’re not working to laboratory standards and if your recipe is metric, Imperial or North American, a cup is a cup and as long as the part cups and spoon measures are in accord, all will be well.

You can use a cup instead of a soup ladle, but a ladle is a lot less messy. They normally hold between 1/4 and 1/2 a cup. Some are very well designed, so that you can get the last drops out of a pan; some plastic ones are so flexible that the handles bend with the weight of the soup; some stain, particularly if you use them for mulled wine. Metal ones are noisy and will damage the pan lip, if you tap off the excess, which is pretty much a reflex action. As well as for soup, I use mine for stews and casseroles – and mulled wine.

Kitchen scissors have loads of uses and all cooks will use them for fresh herbs, if they can get them (although now, apparently, the correct thing to do is to tear the leaves, which I found entirely unsatisfactory and much slower); cartons of juice and wine; packs of coffee; packets of pasta; artichokes, spring onions; vegetable leaves; in fact all sorts of things – and that’s just in the galley. Try and keep them away from the bosun or they’ll soon lose their edge. If possible invest in decent quality.

When my bread knife went overboard, I tried managing without one for a while. However, I found that it was a lot less easy to produce regular slices with an ordinary kitchen knife. The replacement I got was ludicrously sharp and did irreparable damage to my chopping boards. I had never suspected such a thing and suggest you examine one carefully before buying. This is one knife that does not need to be particularly sharp, although it will appreciate meeting a steel every year or so.

In my opinion, the standard, four-sided grater takes up more space than it justifies in a galley drawer and is not particularly easy to clean, especially without plentiful running water. It’s possible to buy individual graters; it used to be easy to find them about 150 mm (6 in) long, with a short handle and designed to stack happily together. Now, like so many things, they have become a lot larger, with long handles and don’t stack so easily. You will probably have more luck finding ones of a sensible size, in the ‛kitchen’ section of a hardware store or a $2 shop than a pukka kitchen shop. That being so, although a mini grater looks like a toy, it’s probably your best bet. They are surprisingly workmanlike and only really let you down if you want to grate large quantities of carrots, for example. These tiny versions of the standard four-sided grater stand about 50 mm (2 in) high. The side with two cutting edges will shred a couple of ounces of cheese very quickly, the two coarser graters are good for Parmesan and the fine one is an excellent nutmeg grater. They’re so small that any boat can find room for one and I highly recommend them.

My personal choice of extra galley tools

The next list contains four things that I consider essential, but other people don’t: a butter knife; a Swiss peeler; a rubber spatula; a lemon squeezer.

A proper, old-fashioned butter knife, with a broad, curved, flexible blade is not easy to find: posh ones look more like fish knives and are useless. But I have seen real butter knives in Canada, New Zealand and the UK; mine comes from South Africa. Now I know that insisting on a butter knife may sound absurd, when I don’t even eat butter, but I use mine constantly. It’s wonderful for mixing scones, pastry, burgers, dips and pâtés; it doubles as a palette knife for lifting things from frying pan or baking sheet, or for spreading icing (in the unlikely event that I should do such a thing). I’d hate to be without it. Oh yes – I also use it for spreading peanut butter.

There are vegetable peelers and there is the Swiss peeler. The latter is an essential for me, because it’s such a delight to use and so efficient. Normally I don’t peel potatoes or carrots, but if I have to, this peeler does it in moments and without waste. It works well on other vegetables such as turnips, which often do need peeling. I’ve also used it for hard cheese: it’s great for slicing off wafer thin slices of Parmesan in fashionable style, and often better than a knife on your standard Cheddar. If cheese is precious and expensive, this is an economical way of getting the most out of it, and if it isn’t, you can always pile the slices several layers thick. My Swiss peeler used to belong to my Mum who loved it dearly. Considering that they are both Swiss and excellent, they are surprisingly cheap.

A rubber spatula is useful for getting the last vestiges of hummus out of a bowl, or scraping cake batter into its tin. They can also be useful for cleaning out jars and cans and are the best thing I know for re-amalgamating tahini.

I find a lemon squeezer much more effective than trying to squeeze half a lemon in my fist. I use the wooden type that you ream into the centre of the lemon, rather than the glass/china one that has its own little saucer. It’s a lot easier to clean, apart from anything else and it works on any size of lemon or other citrus fruit.

Other useful galley tools

Nearly, but not quite essential to me are another four things: a slotted spoon; kitchen tongs; a kitchen timer; a rolling pin.

A slotted spoon is useful for taking beans or vegetables out of their stock, if you want to keep it for another meal, and for small, deep-fried items. I also use it to drain pasta shapes so that I can make use of the leftover water in the sauce, without having to use another container. Again, the black plastic variety seems most satisfactory, although don’t leave it in hot oil for any length of time. Some craft markets sell wooden ones, which are even better. They really come into their own for taking poached eggs out of the pan and for boiled eggs, too.

Kitchen tongs have many uses. They’re very good for removing hot pasties from the oven or frying pan and for turning them; for empanadas, chips and pakoris, all of which can be drained very easily, using tongs. I also use them for long pasta, meaning that you can retain the cooking water for the sauce. They can also be used to hold a damp cloth when trying to clean areas that are hard to reach and I confess that mine get used for putting charcoal on the fire.

A kitchen timer may not be a necessity, but it’s more than a convenience. I often use mine several times a day. It’s good for timing bread and cakes and almost indispensable for pressure cooking. You can use the timer on your watch or phone, but by the time you’ve fiddled with it, your cabbage is half cooked. You can use a stopwatch, but a timer reminds you that the time is up when you’re distracted by other dishes or good conversation. Electronic ones are very accurate, but make a horrid noise. The old-fashioned clockwork ones take a bit of beating and don’t mind living in a damp environment or need a battery. For timing less than 5 minutes, turn the timer to 20 minutes and then turn it back again. That way you’ll be sure to hear the bell. Give them a drop of oil now and then.

A rolling pin can be replaced by a bottle, but you might first want to remove the label. My friend who mocks my obsessional predilection to measuring cups and spoons, finds my insistence on a rolling pin ridiculous. However, they do work better in a confined space then a bottle. In truth, nothing quite replaces the real thing and if you make pastry, it’s worth finding space for one. Pizza dough can be flattened out with your hands, as can chapattis, but pastry really needs some sort of a rolling pin and it makes flattening out any sort of dough easier. Mine is about half size – I think it was sold along with other dinky equipment for children to learn to cook with. Small ones are also sold for use in making fondants and sweets. Mine is perfectly adequate: long ones can be a nuisance on a boat because of the fiddles.

There are heaps of other pieces of equipment, which make the cook’s life easier and which I’ve owned from time to time. Their usefulness depends on exactly how, for how many, and what you generally cook.

It’s perfectly possible to cook bread without a bread tin, but the conventional loaf is certainly a better shape for sandwiches. As the bread tin can also be used for cooking cakes, which do need a container of some sort, if I had an oven, I would regard one as indispensable. If you don’t have an oven, the ‘1 lb’ tin can still be of use. It used to be very easy to get these measuring 150 mm x 100 mm (6 in x 4 in), but for some reason, they’re generally longer and thinner now. This is a real drawback because the longer one won’t fit in a frying pan (see the Perfect Ovenless Loaf) or pressure cooker. However, persevere until you find one of the right size. Just to make life more difficult for voyagers, when you do find one of the correct dimensions, it will probably be made of tinned steel, which is not suitable for prolonged pressure cooker use, because it will soon rust, especially if you are steaming in salt water. Until it’s seasoned, grease it very thoroughly each time you use it and try to avoid washing it. Aluminium is a better material, but I haven’t seen a ‛standard’ loaf tin made of alloy for years. Heatproof glass, such as Pyrex may well be your best bet, if you can find one of the correct size. For some years I had a loaf pan made from silicone rubber, and it had the great virtue of not rusting. However, its flexibility meant that both bread and cakes came out a rather strange shape and it needed to be put on some sort of a tray (I used a cooling rack) to be moved for cooking, because unless you lifted up the pan full of risen bread by way of some sort of tray, the dough would instantly collapse. In the end, it succumbed to the rather erratic temperatures of my oven (disliking a really hot flame). The same occurred with the square pan that I once had made of silicon and I’d have to say that the muffin tin was a very qualified success. All of them will spill their contents unless securely supported from underneath.

If you have an oven, a ‘2 lb’ bread tin is a more useful size. There was a time when these were generally about 200 mm x 150 mm (8 in x 6 in) and two would easily fit in most boat ovens. Unfortunately, however, they’re now nearly always 9 in x 4½ in (230 mm x 115 mm): a much less useful size. If your oven is sufficiently large, it may be worth having a couple, because they stack so well that two take up no more space than one. Two people probably won’t eat enough bread to justify baking two loaves at a time, but it would be efficient use of fuel to bake a cake in one and a loaf in the other.

A 200 mm (8 in) cake tin has its place in the scheme of things, whether or not you have an oven. As well as being useful for cakes, you can use it to make lovely treats in a 5-litre or larger pressure cooker, such as lasagne and stuffed pancakes. 200 mm (8 in) is usually the largest that will fit in most pressure cookers, but of course, measure before buying. (It is, admittedly, an awkward shape for lasagne, but a square tin that will fit in the pressure cooker, will hold considerably less food.) If you only have a small pressure cooker, you can still cook these delights directly in the pan, but serving them with any hope of elegance is well beyond my abilities.

For bread and cakes, you will need a mixing bowl. If you buy one in stainless steel, it can double as a washing up bowl. They usually stack very snugly and have many uses. Plastic is less satisfactory because it often stays slightly greasy and holds the smell of your washing up water. This bowl will end up being much used and if you are buying from new and it stacks well with its mate, it might be worth buying two.

One or two 500 ml (1 pt) vacuum flasks are almost a necessity. Especially in cooler places, it’s often useful to have hot water on hand without having to light the cooker; it’s nice to be able to take a hot drink or soup with you for a picnic; if you use filter papers, a vacuum flask can double for a coffee jug; you can have a hot drink with you in the cockpit, if you’re having to hand steer. Stainless steel ones seem to have come of age insofar as heat retention goes – they stay hot nearly as long as those with glass liners – but I am not the only one who has found that they don’t seem to be particularly long-lived. I’ve had five flasks die in less than three years for no apparent reason and one replacement only lasted a year. However, my latest one has now been with me for over 5 years, so perhaps I’ve found The One. At any time, it’s moot whether their resistance to being dropped is that great an advantage. I’ve had glass-lined flasks last for ten or fifteen years and one of them was not only dropped onto concrete, but soundly kicked as well. If you buy a standard size and brand, it’s not difficult to find a spare liner. Unfortunately, however, like so many other things, a 500 ml capacity glass-lined flask is about twice as large as it used to be with moulded ‛cushioning’ and often an enormous handle, surmounted by a huge cup. I certainly have no room for something of this size in my lockers. It might be worth seeing if you can find one of the older, smaller ones second hand: they still have the same interior. For keeping things cold, you need either plastic lined or stainless steel flasks. Don’t try putting ice in a glass-lined flask – the sudden localised cooling can shatter the glass. Flasks with plastic interiors are very susceptible to mould and mildew, regardless of how carefully you clean them.

A coffee jug of some sort is needed if you drink coffee and don’t like using filter papers. (Incidentally, it’s possible to get reusable filters, made from polypropylene, which last far beyond the 500 uses suggested, if you turn them inside out each time. I’ve only seen them for sale in Brazil, but I’m sure they must be sold elsewhere, even if only over the Internet). Real aficionados like the mini espresso jugs, but if you like your coffee in quantity, you might find these a bit on the small side. I find them a bore to clean. They require very finely ground coffee to be most effective, which is sometimes hard to buy. I used to make coffee in a tall enamel jug by the simple method of putting in one spoon per cup and pouring water over the top, as for tea. It needed a strainer, of course, but having one for tea anyway, this wasn’t an issue. This method works unless the coffee is really finely ground. A cafétière also has a lot to recommend it. I prefer those made of stainless steel and insulated: I don’t like lukewarm coffee. Individual cafétières, from which you can then drink, are available from some camping shops. This makes life a lot easier where you have a tea drinker and a coffee drinker co-habiting. They can be used for tea, too. However, many have plastic handles which break off after a few months and the plunger, being held in a track down one side of the cup can get irremovably jammed with coffee grounds. I do not recommend using the same jug for coffee and tea, if you appreciate either. Eric Newby recalls, in The Last Grain Race that the Finns not only used the same pot, but alternated coffee and tea until there was no more room for water. In those days, Men were Men.

I enjoy a good cup of tea, and dislike dunking teabags. The process lacks elegance, the timing is too often critical – a bag left in too long becomes very strong – and teabags float around for ages if you chuck them overboard. Teabags, too, take up at least four times the space of loose tea – and that is probably a conservative estimate. I once had some Chai teabags, because I’d been unable to buy it loose, and they made too strong a brew for my taste. I cut them open and emptied the contents into a tea caddy. The contents of the 16 bags that had squashed in with difficulty, filled about 15% of the caddy; and I got more cups per bag! It’s true that teabags can be pushed into odd corners where nothing else will go, but if you enjoy quality teas, this is no way to treat them such odd corners tend to be damp and often smell of bilge or diesel. And teabags, as well as often being made of plastic, are notorious for containing inferior tea: what used to be known as the sweepings. If, you dislike tea leaves at the bottom of your cup, you need either a teapot and tea strainer or a tea infuser. The latter makes sense if you are the only tea drinker and rarely drink more than one cup; the type made of very fine wire mesh, like a coffee filter, that suspends in your cup makes the best brew. At the end of the day, good tea deserves to be made in a proper teapot.

Nice, but not necessary, are a sieve and/or a colander. To a certain extent, they are interchangeable. A sieve is useful for getting rid of lumps in flour that has got slightly damp. Good cake makers always sift their flour to incorporate extra air, but I’m afraid I don’t bother. A sieve is also useful for sifting out weevils, in white flour; with brown flour, you end up with the bran and weevils still mixed together. A colander is useful for separating weevils from larger seeds and beans – in this case the insects fall through leaving the food behind. Some pans are easy to drain with their lid in place, some very difficult and if they don’t drain easily, you will eventually scald yourself. A slotted spoon or tongs reduce the need to drain pasta and if you cook your vegetables in a pressure cooker, you won’t need to drain those, either. If you’re short of space, don’t buy either until the lack of them gets really frustrating.

There are one or two points worth making about plates and bowls. As mentioned elsewhere, ‛real’ crockery is more pleasant to use than plastic. If you’re worried about breakages, a couple of unbreakable plates and bowls for use at sea might ease your mind: don’t forget that for the vast majority of time you will be eating at anchor. Wooden platters and bowls are an alternative to plastic and are useful for salads and picnics. In cold climates, your food cools less quickly on them. If you look around, you can find ones made of woven wood, which being varnished, are easy to keep clean and are good kit for vegetarians, who rarely need to use a sharp knife for their food. They’re very lightweight and stack well, so that they can usually find a home with your other crockery. Unsealed wooden plates tend to retain strong flavours and are subject to mould.

Pottery plates are pleasant to eat from, can be pre-heated in colder climes and shouldn’t get broken too frequently, with sensible storage. I certainly prefer it to plastic and melamine. Melamine is robust and not too bad a heat sink, but scratches and stains. Pottery plates and bowls can be bought very inexpensively and I would always have them at least for harbour use, if I had room. If you have a thing about breakages, you might like to consider Arcol or Corelle, which, as far as I can make out, are similar to Pyrex, which is heatproof and very robust. To be honest, when I lived with it, I broke more Corelle in a couple of years I did crockery in a decade! They don’t retain their heat nearly as well as crockery. Catering quality porcelain is tough, affordable and holds its heat, so is well worth considering if you are starting from scratch. China is more pleasant to drink from and if you have good stowage and use a moderate amount of care, there is no reason why you should have more breakages aboard than ashore. If you enjoy soup, it’s worth looking for some 500 ml (1 pt) bowls and the best place to locate these, I’ve discovered, are authentic Chinese shops. They nearly always seem to stock them. They’re also ideal for serving up stew-type meals in rough weather. You could, of course, find them in melamine and stainless steel, too, if you are (still!) chary of crockery.

Insulated cups are worth having if you sail in cooler climes, although they are far less pleasant to drink from than china. They come in all sorts of shapes and sizes and camping shops are a good place to locate them. They’re very popular in N America, where people use them in their cars, but a lot of these are tall and thin – not a suitable shape for sailing.

A 500 ml or 1 ltr (1 pt/qt) jug, while not a necessity, is certainly a very useful item. You can use it for a water jug, for dishing up boxed/home-made wine, for custard and for mixing batters. If you only have room for 1 jug, it’s worth while making sure that it’s a measuring jug, which is often easier to use than your cups, when you’re mixing in quantity.

If you intend to make your own yoghurt, you will need a wide-mouthed vacuum flask of at least 500 ml (1 pt) and a thermometer.

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