Once I made the decision I would renovate my kitchen, I immediately began searching the internet for materials I would use in that renovation. My first purchase was nine 13-inch-by-11-inch iron brackets by Rachiele that will eventually support three 5-foot lengths of statuary marble above my counters. I scored with these brackets that I found on ebay for $30 each. They sell on the Rachiele website for $120 a piece. Unfortunately, the combined weight of the brackets and marble shelving requires that the walls be reinforced. Two of these 36-inch iron pot bars and 4-inch brackets by Enclume will be positioned on the marble-tiled wall next to my range. I purchased them on Amazon. I didn't spend much time looking for my cabinet hardware. When I saw the White Bronze Sierra 6-inch pulls and round knobs by Alno, I immediately knew this is what I would use in my kitchen. I originally saw this hardware locally, but again, ordered off the internet to save about one-third of the cost. One caveat -- start your on-line purchasing early. I had to return the hardware twice because of a defective finish. The first time they arrived the knobs and pulls were the color of antique brass (where was the quality control??). It ended up taking almost three months to get the correct finish; a hassle, but still worth it for what I was able to save. The elongated oval, steel finger-pull in the photo was purchased through Doug Mockett. I ordered two that will be used in sliding glass doors on the one storage cabinet that will reach to the ceiling. A 15-inch magnetic knife strip by MIU. Finding lighting for my kitchen was probably the most challenging for me. There are endless options -- beautiful options! And endless price points. The Restoration Hardware Turner flushmount above was found on ebay, new in the box for about $70 less than retail. The Lilly Spot (left) and the COD (below) were my splurges. Purchased through Circa Antiques in Westport, Connecticut, both lights were made in Belgium. Plans are for the spot to shine on an old slate chalkboard. The COD will be mounted at the back door entrance. Elkay Avado undermount sink with drainboard. This was probably my biggest on-line prize. Listing at $1435, I found it for less than $700 with free shipping!
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Say good-bye to this kitchen. It's coming out. Finally. There are those who will say, "What is wrong with this kitchen?". Well, many things, and many things you don't notice just by walking through the kitchen -- chipped, scratched, and dinged cabinets, particle board cabinet floors that have turned to dust, old drawer mechanisms that screech so loudly, if you are speaking to someone on the phone, they cannot hear you, bad lighting, electrics that aren't code, a kitchen that hovers around 52 degrees in the winter. You get the picture, don't you? Will I miss having my spices held securely inside the cabinet door with elastic tape? No, I won't. It's been this way since we moved in over 25 years ago. I thought it was just a temporary fix. I will do my best to keep posting, and plan to chronicle the demolition and rebuilding of the kitchen. And, we do need to eat. We won't stop eating! Certainly, there will be a photo or two of something I've created in our temporary kitchen. I am in the process of compiling the often-requested Recipe Index for everything I've posted on Passions to Pastry. This will debut sometime soon and hopefully keep you cooking while I'm not. One thing is for certain. I will be back in my new kitchen by the end of the summer (uh, maybe....) and will probably be cooking and baking non-stop once I return. YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE: I suppose this is the inaugural post of " Great Kitchens", recipes and photos I hope to share with you occasionally while my kitchen is dismantled. We were invited this past weekend for an al fresco dinner at Carol and Paul's. They are one-third of the group we call "gourmet". Approximately every 3 months we get together with Carol and Paul, and Debbie and Greg, either at our house or at one of their houses. So far this year Bill and I have been given a pass on hosting a dinner, all because of our kitchen remodel. I owe everyone Big Time this fall. I am always excited about going to Carol and Paul's. The tables are set with beautiful French linens. Pipi, who joined us that night, was made to feel very special with her own personal coverlet folded on the brick patio, along with a bowl of fresh water. Upon arriving, we were greeted with glasses of Sangria. Debbie and Greg's contribution to the meal was crostini with roasted radishes. If you have never been a radish fan, try eating them this way. It's my new favorite way to eat radishes. Greg was inspired to make them this way after reading an article in The New York Times. (For some reason I cannot copy the link, but if you put in a search for NYT's "A GOOD APPETITE; roasted radishes", it should come up.) The copper saucepan is awaiting morel mushrooms... Paul dried the morels he picked this spring by running a needle with thread through the mushrooms. He then hung them in the basement to dry. To rehydrate, the morels were mixed with heavy cream in a saucepan over low heat. Just try to imagine how good that tasted. The morels were combined with asparagus. Is there anything that screams spring more than morel mushrooms and asparagus? And if that wasn't wonderful enough, we also had boned, breaded trout caught by.... yes, PAUL! I looked around at all of the plates as they were carried away. There were no leftovers what-so-ever. We savored every bite. I feel extremely lucky and very grateful to be included in this group... Great food... Great friends. YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE: Be thankful you are not my husband, my daughter, or my French Bulldog. I need order around me to be a happy, functioning person. I no longer have order. I think I'm going to be difficult to be around for the next three months. This is what my house looks like now. Artwork has come off the wall. Furniture has been pushed together so big plastic drop-cloths can be thrown over it. My dining room table is now in my living room. And, my dining room has now turned into a warehouse for all of the things I needed to purchase for installation into my new kitchen. I still have a lot of work to do before the demolition this Tuesday. Good thing it's a 3-day weekend! YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE: a PASSION: I probably caused my poor father endless hours of distress while I was growing up. I was always hatching some plan to get myself a pet, but they would never be common pets. Once I sent off for an exotic pets catalog out of Okoboji, Iowa and was determined to get one of the Gibbon monkeys they had for sale. I don't even remember the price of the monkey, but cost was my smallest concern. The bigger obstacle was convincing my father that we needed a monkey in our home. I understand now why he didn't want a monkey. Then there was the three year stretch I dreamt of owning a horse. My father told me we had no place to keep a horse and I would point out to him the large field behind our property. It didn't matter to me that the field belonged to the Amana Society and Charolais bulls grazed there. It was the perfect location. I would just tie up my horse in that field when I wasn't riding it. The horse never happened either, and I understand now why he didn't want a horse. During a family vacation one summer to the Twin Cities I found a "disarmed" skunk in a store in downtown Minneapolis (I can promise you, there are no longer any skunks for sale in downtown Minneapolis). It was $25 -- such a deal I thought. But my father wouldn't let me buy the skunk. The skunk was followed by a desire to own a chinchilla. My desires were endless. "Pets" that I found and brought home, like the large snapping turtle or the small mouse that I purchased at Woolworth's, were released into the wild at night while I slept, after my mother heard they could possibly carry salmonella. But the one pet I did bring home and everyone fell in love with was Otto. In the spring of my junior year in high school I somehow acquired three Mallard eggs. With the help of my science teacher the eggs were placed inside an incubator at school. Of the three eggs, one hatched and I named the duck Otto. The following summer Otto and I were inseparable. When I walked up the hill to the post office each morning to get our mail, Otto walked with me quacking the entire way. In the afternoons we'd walk down to the creek behind our house, in the field where the Charolais bulls grazed. Otto would take a dip, paddle around for awhile, and when Otto had enough we'd walk back home. We also discovered that summer that Otto was not a he, but a she. Otto began laying eggs that were fought over by my aunt next door and the old man across the street. When Mr. Fritsche heard there were duck eggs in the neighborhood he showed up every day demanding we give him what we had, considering duck eggs to be the best eggs on earth. My aunt on the other hand wanted the eggs for the "funeral cakes" she always seemed to be baking, telling me they made better cakes than chicken eggs. At the same time, my aunt made it very clear she wanted no one else to know what her secret ingredient was. So... you probably think I'll end this remembrance with a recipe for duck. No, I won't do that. But it's not a happy ending, either. After making it through the winter, using hay bales to keep Otto warm in a small workshop behind our house, we needed to make a decision on where Otto would go when I went away to college. As much as my parents (my mother especially) loved Otto, they were not interested in the full-time care of my duck. I reluctantly gave Otto to the boy across the street who promised me my duck would be given the best care possible. The first time I returned home from college I received a call asking if I'd like to come over and see Otto. After hanging up the phone I couldn't get there fast enough and thought it odd that I was being led inside the house. As much as we had loved Otto she never would have lived indoors with us. And as I soon learned it wasn't the case there either. Otto was sitting motionless on top of the television, apparently the taxidermied victim of an encounter with an outdoor cat. Needless to say, I never visited again. I can't help but think about Otto this spring and how special she was. Mallards seem to be everywhere in St. Paul when I'm driving or walking, and one in particular almost gave me the opportunity to pet it... I wonder how Pipi would feel about a duck moving in? YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE: I wouldn't mind rabbits multiplying in my yard if they looked like this. And I rather like the rabbit hutches they call home. These Bunnies are from a dear friend's collection. The friend who also does up Christmas quite nicely. Check it out! HoPpY EasTeR ! This is hopefully what my kitchen will look like when finished (unless we need to make changes because of budget concerns). I meet with our builder this week and the plan is to start the remodel in April :-) Drawings by Kathy Olmstead of Laurel Ulland Architects How should I take it when someone says, "that looks like you"? I just got back from Iowa where I did a little antiquing with my nephew. I saw this and was instantly crazy about it. The "iron finial" as it was referred to, would serve no other purpose than to set on a piece of furniture in my living room where I could admire its beautiful rustiness. When I pulled out my camera to photograph it, my nephew said, "that looks like you". My nephew wasn't surprised either when I gasped upon seeing these old bottles. The photo doesn't give you a clue as to their enormous size. The old Italian Martini & Rossi bottles are approximately 20-inches tall. The middle bottle is particularly wonderful, having the paper label in the best condition. I saw this welded wire Eiffel Tower for the first time last fall at an antique show I attended. It didn't sell and the price has actually come down 100 dollars. Again, I walked away from it. I'm still thinking about all of these pieces much too often, which isn't a good thing. Unfortunately, I could find a place in my home for any one of these and that makes it far too tempting. How could a Tuscan "re-boiled" soup have anything to do with a life I used to have making one-of-a-kind, tapestry-crocheted bags out of hand-dyed linen? Are you sitting down? This could take a while. Way, way back in the '70s I attended the Kansas City Art Institute, majoring in Fiber. After several years of tapestry weaving I picked up a crochet hook and some Irish rug linen. I needed a bag for myself and was inspired by Ecuadorian Shigras, a vessel-shaped, twined bag made out of agave fibers. When women tried to purchase bags I had made off of my shoulder, I left my loom and weaving behind and started crocheting full-time. My pieces ranged from "every day bags" approximately 6-inches in diameter by 9-inches tall to large vessels used in interiors. My favorite pieces were small, finely-crocheted "evening bags". The majority of these were made out of linen and silk and had drawstring closures out of the most beautiful, one-of-a-kind Japanese kimono silks. I was extremely lucky to know Fifi White and Elizabeth Wilson of Asiatica Ltd. in Kansas City, Missouri. Through them I had access to exquisite fabrics aquired on their regular buying trips to Japan that I never would have been able to purchase anywhere else. I heard Fifi sold her collection of kimonos to the Japanese government years ago, having a better private collection than Japan itself. Above, a large vessel I made that was the ad for the Baltimore American Craft Show. I crocheted tapestry linen bags for 20 years, working with galleries throughout the country. My bags are in some pretty-impressive private collections. At times I am sorry I didn't pursue a degree in painting, the area of study I initially intended. But I remind myself that had I done that, I would not know many of the interesting people I consider friends today; which brings me back to the Ribollita. Back when The Union Square Cafe Cookbook came out in 1994, I purchased it immediately. Everything in that book sounded good, and I have used it many times over the years. I don't know how long I had the book when I realized that all of the watercolors in there were painted by Richard Polsky. Dick had called me right after my second daughter was born, when he had seen an article on my crocheted pieces in American Craft Magazine. In addition to being a painter himself, he is also a collector, and we corresponded on a regular basis after that. When I happened to notice one day Richard Polsky's name on my favorite cookbook, I was stunned. I had no idea. Turns out, he's Danny Meyer's uncle. It's been several years now since I've heard from him. I should drop him a note. I hope all is well. One piece of correspondence that I treasure is a post-card he sent with small frames of original black ink drawings on the front. The card has been displayed on an etagére in my living room since the day I received it. I picked up The Union Square Cafe Cookbook the other day, deciding on the Ribollita Soup, and then spent some time turning the pages, looking again at the beautiful watercolors of fruits and vegetables that first attracted me to this book. By the way, I love this soup. It's hearty, healthy and delicious. Ribollita from The Union Square Cafe Cookbook by Danny Meyer & Michael Romano Watercolors by Richard Polsky • 1 cup dried cannellini or Great Northern beans • 2 teaspoons Kosher salt • 4 tablespoons olive oil • 2 cups diced zucchini • 1 1/2 cups diced onions • 2/3 cup diced celery • 1/2 cup scrubbed and diced carrots • 1/4 pound pancetta, diced • 2 tablespoons minced garlic • 1/2 head savoy cabbage, washed and cut into 1-inch pieces • 2 tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and chopped • 1/2 cup chopped basil • 2 cups cleaned spinach leaves • 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper • 4 cups day-old sourdough bread • 1/2 cup grated Pecorino Romano • 4 tablespoons olive oil 1. Rinse and cover the beans with cold water and soak overnight. 2. Drain the beans and place them in a saucepan with 8 cups cold water. Cook, covered, for 1 hour. Add 1 teaspoon of the salt and continue cooking for an additional 30 minutes, or until the beans are tender. Set the beans aside with their liquid. 3. Over a medium flame, heat the olive oil in a large soup pot. Over medium heat, sauté the zucchini, onions, celery, carrots, pancetta, and garlic until softened, about 10 minutes. Add the cabbage, tomatoes, basil, and spinach. Season with the remaining 1 teaspoon salt and pepper. Continue to cook, stirring occasionally, for another 10 minutes. 4. Strain the beans, reserving their cooking liquid. Purée half the beans in a food processor. Add the puréed beans, the whole beans, and their cooking liquid (8 cups) to the soup pot and simmer over low heat for 20 minutes. If there is not enough cooking liquid, add water to make up the difference. 5. Add the diced sourdough bread to the soup and cook for 10 more minutes. Adjust the seasoning. Serve with the Pecorino Romano and a drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil. I live in my kitchen - out of enjoyment, out of necessity - it's what I do. We have now lived in our c.1928 home for 24 years. I have made some minor changes to my kitchen (necessary) and improvements (again, necessary) to keep it a working kitchen. I have, however, never designed a kitchen that is my kitchen, my vision of a kitchen, a kitchen that functions for me in the way I need it to function. I have very little counter space. If it were not for the stainless steel table I had made 16 years ago, I honestly don't think I'd be baking as much as I do. It would be virtually impossible (or at least a formidable challenge) to roll the amount of pastry I do. I think you know where this is heading... I am finally taking the steps to full-fill my dream of designing and installing "My Kitchen". With the generous, creative, and so-GREATLY appreciated help of my friend Kathy Olmstead, an architect with Laurel Ulland Architects in Minneapolis, I hope to begin the process this spring. Of course, I've been stressed-out over costs, not having a kitchen for 2 months, and wondering how to keep Passions to Pastry up and running - without a kitchen for 2 months! My daughter's apartment is close. I've made certain her kitchen is fully-equipped. It will be my escape during the day to prep our meals. I am also hoping to feature my friends' kitchens throughout this time; and I have friends with GREAT kitchens (I will be approaching all of you in the near future about this. DO NOT ignore my phone calls or delete my emails. You cannot hide from me!). Hopefully I will be able to provide interesting content while away from my own kitchen. My vision is a workspace with the feel of an old bakery, and to some, this is a conundrum... So, you're ripping out an old kitchen, to put in a new kitchen, that looks like an old kitchen... Yes, that's right. And it will be wonderful. |
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