Buzz
Some hacks are worth your time, and others, well, not so much. Here at our publication, we focus on the ones that truly work. A great hack should simplify life, whether by repurposing an everyday item, optimizing a task, or solving a hidden problem. I’m not convinced this DIY extruder fits those criteria.
By now, you’ve likely seen the viral video: a Russian man uses a Pepsi bottle, a Coke can, and an L-shaped PVC pipe to create what appear to be kofta kabobs. There’s also a blowtorch and a drill involved—already a far cry from a simple, streamlined process. I love a good meat tube, and when people kept sending me the video, I thought building this contraption would be a good way to spend my time. (My editor agreed.) Making and testing this device turned out to be quite the adventure, and I invite you to join me on the journey.
The first step was gathering my materials. I got the PVC pipe from the local OSH and picked up a Diet Dr. Pepper from the nearby grocery store, because Pepsi just doesn’t cut it. While I own a blowtorch, I didn’t have a drill, so I asked my handy stagehand friend to lend me hers. She agreed to leave it on her kitchen table, and I was to pick it up the next morning.
When I picked up the drill, my friend texted me to say she had forgotten to leave it out, casting doubt on my understanding of what a drill was. But before I could attempt to drill the skewer hole, I needed to attach the PVC pipe to the Dr. Pepper bottle. (I suppose I could’ve done either step first.) I turned the torch to its lowest setting and aimed it at the pipe, which immediately caught fire. (No photo of this disaster—I was alone, and my priority was extinguishing the flames.) After putting out the fire, I tried again, this time keeping the flame at a distance. The pipe didn’t catch fire again, but it darkened significantly, resembling a toasted marshmallow—if marshmallows were shaped like elbows. I pushed the Dr. Pepper bottle into the pipe, and to my surprise, it created a solid seal.
The next step was to make the skewer hole. I was pretty sure I had the wrong drill bit, because every attempt to create a hole failed. The bit would just slide off the pipe, leaving small scratches. I tried using a screw to make a little 'pre-hole,' but that didn’t work either. In the end, I decided to head back to the hardware store and beg the experts there for help. I grabbed my pipe-bottle and what I thought was a drill, stuffed them into a tote bag, and walked back to OSH. As soon as I walked in, the alarm went off—probably triggered by the suspicious drill-like object in my bag.
After assuring the lady at the help desk that I wasn’t a thief, a very cheerful man approached. He asked if I needed help, and I explained that I was working on 'kind of a silly project.' Thankfully, he was a fan of silly projects. When I pulled my pipe-bottle out of the bag, his face lit up. 'I know exactly what you’re doing!' he said with excitement. 'I think I need a different drill bit,' I said, pulling out what I hoped was a drill from my bag.
The kind man didn’t point out that what I was holding wasn’t actually a drill, which gave me a surprising confidence boost. He showed me the drill bit I needed, and I asked him for a few 'general drilling tips.' He suggested that I probably should use a vice. 'I don’t have a vice,' I muttered, watching my new-found confidence melt away like cotton candy in a puddle. The helpful man then decided it would be easier for another worker to drill the hole for me in the store. The man who drilled hadn’t seen the video and was confused by the soda bottle fused with PVC, but wasn’t curious enough to ask many questions. He used a sharp tool to make a 'pre-hole,' drilled the actual hole, and handed my Frankenstein bottle back. Now, I was ready to proceed with the next step.
I cut the bottle to create space for the meat, but I didn’t cut it in the best location. One detail I missed during my first viewing of the video was that the Russian man cuts the bottle slightly lower than its widest point. This allows the Coke can to fit snugly at the opening but leaves a bit more room inside the 'meat chamber.'
It turned out that this wasn’t a major issue. I pushed a skewer through the hole, filled the meat chamber with ground beef, and pressed the meat down onto a Diet Coke can. To my surprise, the meat stayed completely immobile.
I started to wonder if the problem lay with the texture of the meat itself, so I decided to check out a few kofta recipes to see if the ground beef (or lamb) was typically processed in any particular way. It turns out that several recipes do recommend putting the meat in a food processor. So, I processed the meat, refilled the chamber, and gave it another shot.
I swapped the Diet Coke can for a jar of pepperoncini, since it fit a little better, and pressed again. This time, success! The meat slid right out of the chamber, forming a surprisingly solid meat tube.
The effort required to extrude the meat was a little more than what the video had led me to expect, and I had a hard time moving the stick at the same pace as the extruding meat, but I managed to make it work. The meat tubes turned out quite tube-like, though they did slide around on the stick more than I anticipated. I didn’t cook the meat tubes, mostly because I don’t own a grill, but also because my kitchen still smelled of burnt PVC pipe. So, I bagged them up and popped them in the fridge.
I’m not sure I’d call this a 'good hack.' While the contraption did technically 'work,' it didn’t feel 'easy,' 'simple,' or 'worth my time' in any meaningful way. For comparison, I just molded some meat around a skewer with my bare hands.
Though my hand-formed meat tube may not have been as perfectly shaped as the ones extruded with the PVC pipe, it certainly required fewer trips to the hardware store, and the meat didn’t slide around on the skewer. Also, the DIY extruder seems like it’s going to be a pain to clean. I haven’t tried yet, but I might just end up throwing it away.
