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My grandmother used to own two devices whose sole purpose was to grind nutmeg. Shaped like flying saucers with a spring-based grinder, they couldn't be repurposed grind anything else. They were, in essence, nutmeg bling.
This puzzled me growing up, as I didn't much see the point in such whimsical affectations for a wrinkled marble ground into the family ginger cookies. Fortunately age brings wisdom, understanding, and one of my grandmother's nutmeg grinders (a sweet mid-century modern model, chrome and all). By now I'm so attached to the spice I find myself lingering over new nutmeg bling myself. Food, it seems, has a way of coming full circle.