What?
Dial Baby datable baby food containers (£14, Joseph Joseph). Reticulated pots housed in a mother tub, with numerical scroll wheel.
Why?
When a man is reduced to rating baby’s lunchboxes, rock bottom is in reach.
Well?
One shrinks at the thought of a datable baby food container set, wishing the sentence had just a bit more punctuation. But relax. Dial Baby is not Tinder for infants, nor a Handmaid’s Tale dystopian fertility scheme. It’s a set of portion tubs for babies or, looked at another way, a load of boxes within boxes. The twist, literally, is a datable lid.
Turning the contra-rotational wheel clockwise revolves the display through calendar months, while anticlockwise sets the day; this lets you know when you first put the food in the fridge or freezer, or when it needs to be eaten by. Taking the guesswork out of storage is a good idea. I’m barely aware of the contents of my lower compartment; I’ve seen mammoth tusks, dire wolves and the frozen notion of social mobility in there. (Intrusive political satire! Eat that for pudding, The Man.)
And there are good things here. The dinky boxes with snap-shut lids are so cute I could burst into flame. I don’t eat puree, so the only thing I’m likely to keep in them is medication, but still. Thick, rubberised edges make removing the lid pleasurable, or highly pleasurable depending on your inclinations. The dates in the viewing window, however, resemble the flap-board construction of a madman’s apocalypse countdown. It’s a bit rustic for the usually urbane Joseph Joseph. Similarly, the scroll-wheel has the clunky, chunky feeling of a baby toy. Brilliant design in-joke, or just unfortunate?
The biggest issue is that dates only take you so far, as Tinder users will attest. Like them, I waste many a night hacking through the geological cross-section of an ice age in search of a viable dinner, unsure if the frozen tubs I excavate actually contain hard fat, mystery stock or a migraine pillow. I’d prefer a way to record what’s actually inside, not just how old they are. Still, a bit of mystery is alluring. I’d happily spend a few evenings with the Dial range. It’s datable, comma, baby.
Redeeming features?
Cycling through dates at such speed can’t help but echo the accelerations of ageing, our numbered days falling like leaves from trees. But the tubs are microwave safe.
Counter, drawer, back of the cupboard?
Womb with a view. Of mortality. 3/5
