We tried to kick some dope rhymes for the Fusion, but all we had was “steady choppin’,” “no stoppin’,” and “practically perfect like Mary Poppins,” which was more dopey than dope

There are many reasons to own a food processor. Maybe your hardcore gourmand lifestyle has led to fingers so fat you can’t hold a knife anymore. Maybe you love apples, but don’t have any teeth. Or maybe, like us, you just find it a huuge pain in the sittin’ parts to chop up onions or parsley or garlic or whatever.

Well, there’s no shame in taking a technological shortcut. Is Bob Vila less of a handyman because he uses power tools? Heck, no; if anything, he’s less of an idiot. Sawing wood by hand is hard.

With its quiet, 700-watt induction motor, this compact food-chewer will pulverize parsnips, obliterate onions, and shred… uh, some kind of vegetable that starts with a “sh” sound. We mostly use ours for chopping garlic. One brief whirr of its spinning blade, and the pungent little bulb is in tiny pieces—without us getting the stinkfinger from chopping ye olde-fashioned way.

Seriously, that garlic smell won’t come off your hands for days. And that’s great for poking Draculas in the eye, but not so hot for making out with your special somebody.

You are planning to make out with a special somebody after this meal, right?

No?

Well, then what’s with all this dicing and chopping? Just heat up a TV dinner if you aren’t trying to impress anybody.

Anyway, Little Morphy Richards—or “Morph,” as we called him back in the old neighborhood—is even tough enough to crush ice for after-dinner cocktails! Just one word of warning about that: Wash your food processor thoroughly between the garlic-chopping and the ice-crushing. Worst Mojitos EVER.

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