Get rid of my first and last, and I am a computer part that's very expensive at the moment Remove my second, and I go hand in hand with fortune When I'm complete, I surround pictures or paintings

I'm born of orchid, yet lack floral grace, A culinary friend, in time and space. Though plain I seem, my essence is grand, Lending depth to flavors, across the land. What am I?

Sometimes I slice Other times I have eight strings But all times I shred What am I?

I twist and turn, I wind and bend, from start to stop, I guide your end. Cars and feet upon me meet, what am I, that runs beneath your feet?

In your hand, I wield great power, Changing channels by the hour. A buttoned guide for couch-bound souls, I give my users faraway control.