VALENCIA, SPAIN -- For $1,000, you can hire a personal chef to cook for a week. For the same $1,000, you can buy a machine that cooks for a lifetime. If you can figure out how to use it, that is.

	Thermomix is a sensation in Europe. Click photo for larger image.

The dream machine is Thermomix, the ultimate kitchen appliance. It is the product of German design and innovation and can do 20 kitchen tricks. It stirs, beats, whips, blends, chops, heats, weighs, times, kneads, sautes, simmers, steams and more, all within the machine. The only kitchen task it will not do is deep fry. It controls time, heat and speed, and its footprint is no bigger than a laptop.

The machines are demonstrated (hold that thought) and sold in Germany, Portugal, Italy, France, Japan, Austria, Poland, Taiwan, the Czech Republic and Spain, where it is so wildly popular that there are Thermomix clubs, Web sites and blogs. (I'll get to the States later.)

On a recent vacation in Valencia, my husband and I had dinner with an old friend, Teresa Barrenechea, who is now the director of Thermomix in Spain. The Bilbao native lived in the United States for 16 years as chef-owner of Marichu in Manhattan, where it was one of our favorite restaurants. She is also a cooking teacher with two cookbooks to her name. The latest: "The Cuisines of Spain."

"Tell us about your new career with this appliance," we asked her.

"It's a very exciting opportunity. The Thermomix TM31 is a magic pot," said Ms. Barrenechea. "The blade has a blunt side and a knife-edge side, and it can go in either direction. When the blade goes slowly and backward, the blunt side will stir a goulash or a risotto just like a wooden spoon, at about 40 rpm. When you push a button to change direction, the sharp edge can go up to 10,000 rpm and all speeds in between. We sell a Thermomix every five minutes.

"You have to see for yourself," she said. "Let's go find the chef here. I'm sure he has one."

So it was up from the table and into the kitchen of Soroya at Las Arenas, a seaside hotel on the promenade of Valencia's beach with the Mediterranean lapping only yards away. Restaurant chef Alejandro Hernandez was eager to talk.

"One? I have six machines," he said, with Ms. Barrenechea translating. "The small one is 20 years old, a first generation. I keep it mostly for mayonnaise, gazpacho and ice. My big one here, with two-liter capacity, is for the line cooks. They might make a sofrito or steamed rice or mashed potatoes or a hollandaise sauce, for instance. There is a Thermomix in the pastry kitchen and three more in prep areas. We use them all day and during service."

He demonstrated how he uses an internal digital scale to weigh out ingredients right in the two-liter container; the machine resets the scale for each additional ingredient. Then he entered the time, temperature and speed. And he was free to take on another task.

Better than a genie, this Thermomix TM31.

The catch? You can't buy the machine in a store. In her new position, Ms. Barrenechea manages a sales network of 6,000 women "presentadoras." They act as ambassadors for the machine and demonstrate it in homes in Tupperware-party style, teaching women and men how to cook with it.

"The Thermomix is going to sell, no matter what," said Ms. Barrenechea. "If you sell well, by teaching, you sell millions. But if you sell badly, the machine will sit on a shelf."

"But, Teresa," I said. "You are a chef. Don't you want to feel the food, sniff it, stir it and use your senses? Are you happy to let a machine make the decisions?"

"Good question," she answered. "If you like to cook and you have time, yes, you will cook in the traditional way, of course. But the times when you want to read a book or take a long shower, the machine can do the work for you."

The next evening, my husband and I were in town eating tapas in a bar. We were discussing the Thermomix. Should we get one? A young woman on a nearby stool heard us and, in the friendly, tapas-bar way, joined our conversation.

"All my friends have one," said Eva Monterde, a 32-year-old working mother. "My mother had her machine for six years and liked it so much, she bought one for both my sister and me. When my 4-year-old was an infant, I made all of her baby food, two days' worth at a time.

"I have a job," Ms. Monterde continued. "When I come home, I can start the dinner -- rice and shrimp or anything. I set the dial, push the timer and I'm free to change a diaper or take a telephone call, and I can be sure that the food won't burn or spill over. It's easy to clean, too. If I saute something, I clean up just like any other pan; I put soap in and turn on the motor. A new Thermomix costs about 600 euros, but I think it's worth it. Most important, I can forget the cooking."

In the States

Ms. Barrenechea is a big advocate of selling the latest model, the TM31, in the States. But, she says, distribution in the United States has built-in difficulties. Major re-engineering is necessary for the reversible motor; Europe uses 220-volt electricity at 50 cycles; the United States uses 110 volts at 60 cycles. Instructions and cookbooks are expressed in the International System. Weights are in grams, and temperatures are in Celsius. But the biggest block, she said, is the absence of a teaching force in the United States. The machine must be taught.

At home, I did some research. Only the third generation model, the TM21, is for sale in the United States. (This model has been re-engineered for American use.) But because of a badly translated cookbook, no advertising or marketing, zero word of mouth and the absence of a well-informed and well-practiced teaching force, it's Flop City for Thermomix in the United States. The few chefs who have this model use it occasionally, but mostly, it sits idle; the learning curve is too steep.

Want one anyway? The only way to buy one, and that's without seeing, touching or hefting it, is online or by phone order to the manufacturer. The price, $995 plus shipping. After that, you're on your own.

But think about this. In 1973, Carl Sontheimer brought the Cuisinart food processor, formerly called the Robot Coupe, from France to America. Nobody in the United States had heard of it.

Mr. Sontheimer taught celebrity chefs to use it, and they, in turn, sang its praises and demonstrated it all over the country.

Mr. Sontheimer commissioned cookbooks and founded a cooking club based on his magazine, "The Pleasures of Cooking." Now, hardly a serious kitchen is without a Cuisinart or a clone.

And that, folks, is a template for success.

Who is going to be the American angel of the Thermomix?

For more information about Thermomix, visit www.thermo-mix.com or www.vorwerk.com.