Welcome back to the second-hand-gadget-of-cooking show-off.
Miniature toilet brush in appearance, miniature broomstick in gait; utilitarian, actually cleanable (the little metal cap retracts) and bristle retaining pastry brush, welcome to my humble implement drawer. You take me back little brush, to home-ec. (aka school cooking class). To the Madame Trelawny-like teacher who always gave me an irritating sympathy/doomed looks when she saw me (a once competitive excuse maker, my " I have reoccurring nightmares about drowning and I was too tired to get up this morning Miss" was a big mistake. To the A grade because even though I burned my cake I gave a marvellous (also confabulated) critique as to why. From the best school lunch of the week (a Friday morning class). From the spacious, sunny classroom of messy, tasty fun past, to the current tiny kitchen of messy, tasty fun present (Claud and I just made pies), for all of 20c.