In the kitchen there is a medium sized appliance, about 4 feet tall and 4 feet wide. It takes up some of that dead space we all have so much of. At the top are approximately 6 clear canisters, about 1 foot in height. These are filled with strand pasta (I’m sorry but there is another appliance in the corner for macaronis and farfalles and the like). Directly beneath these waits one clear, empty canister of the same height as the pasta canisters above, only with a metal top. When the cook reads in the recipe the amount of pasta needed he moves to the appliance and touching the LED screen chooses linguine: 4 cups. The top canisters swirl coming to rest with the requested pasta’s canister in the forefront, resting over a plate with adjustable holes which in turn is over the removable clear canister. The inner working of the machine access the linguini files and discovers that linguini (particularly the linguini bought for this kitchen) is usually 1 millimeter in width and 5 microns in depth and that 20 strands of linguini makes one cooked cup. The plate dilates some of its holes ( 80 of them, for a more exact count) into the right circumference and the solid bottom the linguini canister swings away. The upper canister vibrates a few moments, shaking some strands into the previously calibrated linguini shaped holes. These fall through in to the receiving canister when the weight in the receiving canister reaches 16 ounces (or whatever the weight would be) the vibration stops, and the solid bottom swings back into place. The cook reaches up and removes his canister of linguini and boils it; resulting in 4 exact cups of cooked linguini.