Rule #1. Sustenance is key.
[Tea from clever avian tea set.] (more…)
Posted in C&C Kitchen, Carey & Robby, tagged Anthropologie, Anthropologie home, antique, apron, Burden, Caftans, Carey, Connecticut, Corks, corks and caftans, owl tea set, Ridgefield, Rob, Robby, salt and pepper shaker, Snickerdoodle cookies, spatula, Williams-Sonoma, Wodehouse on January 5, 2009| 3 Comments »
I’ve only recently become domestically inclined, but I’m embracing it. It all started with a matching apron and oven mitt and has morphed into a complete kitchen utensil makeover which, I’ll admit, has made cooking way more fun than I ever imagined.
I’m a kitchen snob; always have been.
I have several favorite kitchens of my past that I call on during frequent day dreams: my aunt Priscilla’s Ridgefield, Conn. kitchen, with a view of a vast green yard and a barn, a nest of baby birds chirping on cue by the windowsill; the wood floor hand-painted to look like black and white marble tiles; she donned a cow-print robe and poured cream into her coffee from a cow-shaped pitcher, the bovine artfully vomiting a stream of milk into the mug. In later years, this was overruled by my friend Margaret’s new-fangled, remodeled kitchen. It was a total overhaul, gorgeous cabinets, blinds covering the skylight that could be operated with a switch (and flipped to reveal a gold-painted side, which I’d go home and pout about), an ice maker, a huge walk-in pantry, and an enormous window framing lush, green trees that sloped down into the ravine behind their beautiful Richmond home. I also loved my mom’s kitchen; familiarity winning out with the leopard-print wallpaper and the bowls I’d been sticking my fingers in since I was a kid.
I love the personality in houses and homes, but it always comes back to the kitchen for me. I used to voluntarily clean the kitchens of the women I babysat for, doing dishes and marvelling at the contents of their cabinets, wiping clean the granite counter tops to reveal a rainbow of glinting colors in the stone. I love kitchens.
When it came time to create a wedding gift registry, I was a virgin in the face of all these tools and gadgets: poultry pounders, boar-bristle brushes, meat thermometers, strawberry de-stemmers. Overwhelming, yes, but most of all, nothing was really pretty. I had expected a lot more “swoon.”
I did what I could with Williams-Sonoma, pleasantly tickled by some biscuit cutters, the monogrammed spatulas, and a gold cookie sheet, but it wasn’t until I stumbled upon the Home section of Anthropologie that I completely lost it.
Everything has a fabulously kitschy, vintage feel (which is my favorite feel, when it comes to nearly everything). There was a set of ceramic measuring spoons, shaped and hand-painted like giraffes that stand up in a little row. A set of “Matryoshka” measuring cups shaped like the Russian nesting dolls I had as a girl. A “garden in a pot” kit to grow Italian parsley right in your own kitchen. Aprons, cookie jars, folksy place mats, dessert plates, a tea set shaped like owls, a cooking timer shaped like a hen… you get the idea. I went berserk.
It’s like putting your kitchen in a bouclé Nanette Lepore suit. It doesn’t matter if no one else is around– when I cook, I tie on one of my 5 aprons religiously, pluck eggs for my recipe from the ceramic egg holder and sip my well-deserved glass of wine from a purple, hand-blown goblet with a green stem. It looks like a tulip, and it makes all the difference in the world if you’re as into details as I am.
I invite you to peruse the site, build a wishlist, and put a little extra effort into your kitchen. And anywhere else in your house. They had a great collection of groovy Christmas ornaments over the holidays (I got a moss green mushroom ornament that I think Rob still doesn’t quite understand), and a ton of knobs for drawer pulls, candle holders, lamps, these floor pillows I’ve been coveting for a year, bedding, rugs and everything else. I even found a travel journal that Rob and I documented honeymoon stuff in, some cool file folders (please, don’t make fun of me), and two pillow slipcovers with different bird species embroidered on them.
Among my favorite things in our kitchen are two of Rob’s things: the naked lady spoon holder and the naked lady salt and pepper shaker— with removable breasts. These are antiques, and a little R-rated, so you won’t find these on anthro. Sorry, boys.
Obviously I’m stuck in the “nesting phase,” but look at it this way: you’re investing in things that some day, someone might be dying to inherit from you.
Oven is preheated; time to put the cookies in— with a coordinating hot pad, obvy.
www.anthropologie.com, or call 1-800-309-2500 to order or request a catalog.