Spatula
A spatula is "a small implement with a broad, flat, flexible blade used to mix, spread and lift material" including foods, drugs, plaster and paints. It derives from the Latin word for a flat piece of wood or splint (a diminutive form of the Latin spatha, meaning broadsword), and hence can also refer to a tongue depressor. The words spade (digging tool) and spathe are similarly derived. The word spatula is known to have been used in English since 1525.
Design
Spatulas are usually used to level out a dry measuring cup. It is a tool with 2 flat edges on a flexible blade. A spatula is usually short and about 8 inches long. A spatula also refers to a turner which is used to flip over pancakes and meat patties.
In the kitchen
American English usage
In kitchen utensils, a spatula is any utensil fitting the above description. One variety is used to lift and flip food items during cooking, such as pancakes and fillets. These are usually made of plastic, with a wooden or plastic handle to insulate them from heat.
Spatula (disambiguation)
A Spatula is a cooking utensil.
Spatula may also refer to:
Spatula (genus)
Spatula is a genus of duck of the family Anatidae. Species historically included in this genus are now typically assigned to the genus Anas instead.
Species
References
Podcasts:
Spatula
ALBUMS
- Despina by Land released: 1998
- Under the Veil of Health released: 1996
- Medium Planers and Matchers released: 1995
- Even the Thorny Acacia released: 1994
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
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by Subtle Way
The Pride In The Print
by: Subtle WayThere is a voice
That hides behind my words
That swing from my breath
To call on my will, or ring in my end
And I know what you’re thinking
But you can take my word
This is not a drill, this is the real deal
This is for real
Can you count the debt my limbs owe
Or the love that they have yet to sew
Through the sings on terracotta tiles
On the floor before my open door
Oh, if heart and hand change directions
And line up on separate fronts
Just to design an illusion
To sew into my arm
And I know all that I have left here are my wits and my will
And I could paint your ears in white noise
If my heart would just hold still
What do you take me for?
My will is but a burden that I wish that I could trade
But now is not the time to wish for washed hands
And I’ve found a friend beneath my skin,
And fell in love beneath the pen
Prove your words, find the meaning behind your concern
Prove your worth, solve the debt that you owe to this earth
But in debt, I know I can earn
All this love (behind my tongue)
And my step and balance have kept in the dance with this all
So this is my voice the shame in the pavement
And the pride in the print
So this is my voice, the shame in the frame