As a family, we were avid watchers of rubbish Saturday evening TV programmes like The Generation Game. We’d pointlessly shout out the names of the objects the contestants struggled to remember from the conveyor belt. And amongst the fairground-prize crapness of the cuddly toys and Teasmades, were a variety of kitchen gadgets that seemed deeply exciting. But I suspect they went the way of all such things in the ‘70s - to jumble sales or up in the attic. These days, with the enduring popularity of car boot sales, this junk probably goes on a continuous circuit. Foolish culinary purchases like the ice-cream maker you only used once. A breadmaker you used daily for three months, enthusiasm and experimentation levels gradually leeching away, until you slunk guiltily back into your old bread-buying habits. Our juicer torments me. Bought during a healthy-eating phase that skedaddled the way of all good intentions, it mostly sits around being in the way. But sometimes, like this week, we have an excitable burst of juicing frenzy. It’s a good way of using up a glut of something, and children love helping poke in chunks of veg at one end, just to see liquid coming out the other, as if by magic. And even better, they drink the efforts of their labours. So this way, carrots get consumed, and apples of course. Cucumber, too. Beetroot makes the colour change to dramatic Barbie pink. Ginger, spinach and celery are yummy, but probably more to an adult’s taste. The leftover dried pulp makes good compost. It’s a pain to clean though. Probably why we stopped using it last time round.

Pulp kitchen: fruiters can be seriously difficult to wash up