We just hit 100 subscribers!!! One of the greatest blessings of my life is to write about how the kitchen has saved my life and in return to hear from some of you. I’d like to do a little giveaway to thank you. This—small!—gift box is a gathering of some of the things I’ve listed below, things which make my kitchen feel like home. To enter, simply do the following:
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Comment down below, tagging the name of a friend you feel deserves some extra kitchen love this year. Whoever wins will get a gift box both for themselves and a friend.
Now, onto the good stuff. No matter your religion or season of life, the holidays remain the one time of year when we all need and want the same thing: home. There are many ways to create coziness in the kitchen; these are some of my tried and true. This guide can be used to invest in buying treasured items for your own kitchen space or as a gentle nudge to your significant other. Here, in no particular order, are the top ten things that make my kitchen feel like heaven on earth.
Copper
The first time I saw copper in abundance was at an old wine shop and cookery school in Beaune, France called The Cook’s Atelier (a great place to buy gifts if you are très riche). Artful stacks of copper roasting trays, the most beautiful kettles, strainers, ladles, and molds filled the shop. The ember-like glow of the copper endeared this little French shop to me. It is a texture and a feeling I have not since forgotten.
Copper is not just beautiful but one of the best, most even conductors of heat money can buy. Mauviel USA makes some very good copper. However, the quality does differ from the Mauviel created in France. In France, the copper lining in the pots is made thicker, dispersing heat more evenly.
A wonderful place to start looking for copper is to peruse secondhand French items on Etsy. These are more affordable than new pots and pans and ensure that extra thickness in the lining which makes cooking with copper so special. The patina and scratches on older copper is also beautiful and adds a rustic quality.
A Book of Days
A book of days is exactly what it sounds like: a book with a recipe, quote, thought, or mantra for every day of the year. The one I keep in my kitchen is called Life is Meals. In it are thoughts on some of the world’s finest eaters; Thomas Jefferson, M.F.K. Fischer, and Madame de Pompadour. Vignettes on garlic, buying beef, yogurt, oysters, and Burgundy are peppered throughout. It is a wonderful way to mark the passing of time in the kitchen, like an Advent calendar for food. The book comes in a beautiful dust jacket but I like mine naked. The binding is a beautiful coral red, giving a much needed flourish to my kitchen countertops.
Love Notes, Poems, Quotes
For thirteen years, Tony and I have been writing love notes to each other. Many are now posted in the same cabinets with our blenders, cheese graters, and mason jars. I also fill the kitchen with poems and tidbits I find in my reading life. On the plywood wall behind my oven is a poem I wrote about the things which go missing after slipping through the cracks. Handwritten notes are free but they give the kitchen a feeling of utter richness, connection, and family. Maybe you decide to write a little note or prayer of blessing for the cook in your life and slide it into a frame so they can put it near the coffee grinder.
Heirlooms From the Dead
Right before she died, Tony’s mom Ariane sent me a very funny note about the Gwyneth Paltrow crystals and body oil I’d cheekily sent her in the “hopes” that it would cure the terminal breast cancer she was dying from. I put her response on our fridge, where it stayed years after she passed. Recently, we had it professionally framed, making it look even lovelier.
There is a special power to the relics, icons, objects, and notes of people who have died. It turns our attention, which is bound by hours and days and school drop-offs, to something or someone more historical and timeless for a moment. Heirlooms are little touchstones of remembrance and I love keeping them around my house. If you don’t have a note, you could ask for an old apron from grandma, a trinket, or a church cookbook or picture of an important saint and wrap it in beautiful paper for your loved one. You can also use something cherished and dear—a marriage certificate or a picture of great, great grandparents—framed. Anything which reminds your loved one that they are one link in a very long and wonderful ancestry of cooks and world builders.
Sharp Knives + Knife Skills
Our hospital visit tally due to kitchen accidents is only twice: once because of a rogue juicer (my fault) and once because of an incredibly dull blade which slipped and cut very deep, teaching a painful lesson requiring stitches. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: dull knives are the most dangerous thing a cook has in her kitchen.
There are so many places to buy good knives these days, but I always return to my tried and true: Epicurean Edge. If you already have a good knife, they provide reasonable knife sharpening services which are worth every penny and unharmed finger. All you must do is package up the blade, fill out a form, and send it in. They take care of the rest.
Candles
Something about a long tapered candle always slows me down. It takes just seconds to light and creates a mellow glow that melts the harshness of the day away. Because I don’t want candle scents interfering with the aroma of what I cook, I use Bluecorn Candles, a high-quality, non-toxic beeswax candle purveyor in Colorado. These candles last a good long while and cast a softer glow because of their natural golden hue. They are priced a little higher than the scented candles at Target but also last longer and cause fewer headaches.
Antique Finds
Similar to notes from the dead, antique finds give the kitchen a lived-in, warm, and storied feeling. A lot of things are cheaper and more beautiful when purchased second-hand. While I have no comprehensive guide to flea markets and antique stores—rural Pennsylvania is where I’ve had the best luck—I do have a handful of things I’m always on the lookout for. These include but are never limited to; glass measuring cups, aprons, candleholders, and large, hand-painted bowls.
Painted items typically require handwashing, but much of the old glassware from the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s is made to be used, loved, and thrown in the dishwasher. If you have no place nearby to shop secondhand Etsy is one space where I’ve found excellent and durable vintage glass. They also have good silver, aprons, china, and candle holders from time to time. We even found an old French candelabra from a monastery on there. The possibilities are truly endless.
Color
Color can be anything: a bouquet of lilies, a pot of basil, a hand-painted mug, a framed drawing by your child. Color creates a dynamic, alive, richness within your space. Japanese and Scandinavian designers tend to do color in the most timeless and elegant ways. Below are some of my favorite spots to go looking for a pop of color (two are brick and mortar locations here in Los Angeles).
Music
Music, my old friend. You have coaxed me away from the edge of a nervous breakdown. You have sheltered me with the beauty of your soundscapes and wrapped my home in bliss. Because the kitchen is my most inhabited space, it also holds memories of great stress (cue the time I cooked a Thanksgiving meal for 25 complete strangers after living in L.A. for less than 6 months).
When we were dating long distance, my husband made me a Spotify playlist to listen to when I missed him. It’s still one of the most romantic things he’s ever done for me. This year, I made a cinematic Christmas music playlist for the both of us. He declared he loves it, which, since he’s a musician, means I can now die happy.
A Kitchen Blessing
In a post from earlier this year, I talked about the story behind my kitchen blessing—a handwritten quote hanging in our window—and how it has bolstered me in times of great need and mundanity. A kitchen blessing is a beacon, a prayer, a mantra, and a refuge. It’s a consolation when the kitchen rituals grow so repetitive we want to die. And it can be anything. Anything at all that gives hope. Maybe you throw a few dollars at that friend who has great handwriting and ask them to scribe your loved one’s favorite poem or recipe or move quote. Or maybe you type it up and slide it into a simple frame. Maybe you write a blessing yourself and title it “For the Hands Which Make Our Meals.” You don’t need to be a wordsmith to be a blessing. Being truthful is sufficient.
Thank You
Thank you again for coming along for this ride with me this year. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas and Happy Holiday season full of love, warmth, and rest. I am taking the next month or two to be with family and to do some dreaming for the year ahead. I love it when you tell me what you’d like to hear more of. If anything strikes your fancy, please let me know in the comments. And, do tell me what you’re baking this year! Merry Christmas homebodies!
Edits by Lauren Ruef
Photos by Bethany Schrock
Congratulations!
And might I add, this post...with its muted photos...even feels like home.
This is wonderful! I laughed at your comment about the crystals, and how you memorialized your mother-in-law by framing her note. She must have been so lovely, to have kept her humor even in her last days. That point alone gave me plenty to think about.
I just love reading how you've made the kitchen your working and living and thinking space to serve others. LA can be a lonely place, and while I don't know you at all, I just wonder at the beauty and connection people must experience around your table. What a gift. God bless.