Cardboard Carnage and Pyrex Pretties

It is amazing to me that only a week ago the Sailor and I were on the road, heading to a new city.

So much has happened since then!

My last post elicited a few panicked emails and messages from friends we left behind. (Thankfully, I alerted my mother before she read the blog...) I'm happy to report that the same day I wrote my 'homeless' post, we received the keys to our new and wonderful place. There were a few cups of coffee and lunch in between, and mounds of paperwork to sign (seriously... we signed a rental lease, not a mortgage...) But later that night, we settled into our new apartment enough to feel at home.

The Sailor had the truck unpacked within two hours (!) My job? Sorting out boxes galore. 

Cardboard carnage

We still have some unpacking to do, but since it's the weekend, we're taking a break. 

In the meantime, I'm absolutely giddy with the amount of kitchen space I now have. Regular readers will know that I have just moved out of what I considered the smallest kitchen in America. (Have a tiny kitchen? Read my small kitchen hints here and here.)

I seem to have moved into a kitchen that could have swallowed our entire former apartment. Seriously, this kitchen is BIG. 

The best news of all? Plenty of counter space and shelves to display the Pyrex. (I'm also happy to report that despite moving hassles, all of my pretties made it to the other side, unscathed!)

This is my view just above the sink. Vintage Butterprint and Butterfly Gold Pyrex in their glory -- along with a turquoise chip and dip set thrown in there simply because it matches. 

This morning, I did some solo exploring in our new location, and I found this lovely Anchor Hocking milk glass cake stand. 

All that's missing is the cake. You can be sure I'll be baking quite a few in my new kitchen! 

More Small (or even Big) Kitchen Hints

In mid-May, I shared some small kitchen hints with you. Over the years, I've discovered two other things that make my life easier in the kitchen (no matter what size), especially when baking. 

1. Use a Parmesan cheese shaker for flour. 

I wish I could take credit for this one, but I can't. I read it somewhere a while back -- a magazine or other blog. Who knows, but I want to kiss the person who suggested it. It has revolutionized my baking. I'm the kind of person who bakes, puts the dough in the fridge to chill and then puts the flour away. Then of course I need more flour to roll the dough out. My flour is stored in a back cabinet and is not easy to just 'grab'.

But now, I can just grab the shaker. 

Bonus: instead of sticking my doughy hands in the flour, I can just shake, and wipe off the container later.

Shake, roll, bake. 

Speaking of rolling out dough...  

2. Keep a ruler in the drawer with your other utensils. 

I really am terrible at eyeballing measurements. The Sailor can take one look at something and tell you the dimensions pretty precisely. I'm relying on him to pack our moving truck. I still am befuddled as to how our stuff will fit into a smallish moving truck.

I can't tell you how many times I've had to go out and search for a ruler in my craft stuff because I want to be sure my pie dough isn't too thick, or the cookies are at least roughly the right size.

By keeping a ruler nearby, I no longer have to guess! Choose a plastic ruler for easy cleaning. 

What's your favorite kitchen hint?

Small Kitchen Hints

Last weekend, I promised to share my hints for living with a small kitchen on this post. Using a doll-sized space takes some creativity, but I refuse to let the size of my kitchen dictate what I can and can't cook. Is it frustrating sometimes? Yes. Would I like more counter space? Of course! Am I able to still whip up some yummy delights? Absolutely. 

Despite the small factor, I've managed to turn my kitchen into a fully functional cooking space.  So, as promised, here are my top five small kitchen hints:  

1. Decide on your non-negotiables. Pick a few things that you simply MUST have in your kitchen, regardless of how much space they may take, or even what they may cost (within reason, of course). I've always heard the phrase, 'Buy the best you can afford'. While I love thrifting, I wanted to get good quality non-negotiables brand new, at the price I could afford.

For me, it was a set of great knives, stainless steels pots and a cast iron frying pan. (The Italian coffee-top espresso maker is a given -- there was never any negotiation involved in that one.) 

We married overseas and had a small wedding -- I never registered for dishes, knives or appliances. I didn't register for anything, actually. We had nowhere to put stuff at the time, plus I'm a little anti-registry. 

Once I had my own kitchen though, I thought about my non-negotiables, purchased them and then was happy to get the rest of my kitchen stuff from thrift stores. My knives do take up a chunk of the counter space, but I can't imagine not having them accessible. The frying pan stays on the stove, and the pots stack neatly inside one another under the oven.  

2. Everything must be FULLY functional. Having a small kitchen means you can't really have stuff laying around that simply looks pretty. That doesn't mean you can't have pretty things. 

One look at Vintage Pyrex and you can see that my kitchen is chock full of functional and pretty things. Problem solved. I am particularly enamored with the refrigerator dishes. (See more reasons why here.) You can bake in them, store them in the fridge and lids make them stackable.

Fully functional, fun AND pretty. 

 
Plus, if you don't have the cabinet space, you can use any of your bowls for other types of storage... like yarn, for instance. 

Having functional and pretty things sometimes means getting creative. I continually swoon over vintage cake stands and covers, but I clearly don't have space for them. This past weekend, I realized that I had a glass storage container with a rubber lid that was the perfect size for the 8" cake I baked -- upside down! Even if you don't have a lid, any clear glass container would work for the size of your cake or pastry, as long as you put a plate underneath.

3. Utilize all available counter space. I don't have a dishwasher. I wash everything by hand, and I have a dish rack, which takes up precious space. 

If you're in the same boat and need more space -- wash and dry the dishes, put the rack away and use that counter space for a while until you need to wash the dishes again. I know this seems basic, but I can't tell you how many times I've stared at the kitchen, willing an island to pop up out of nowhere, when this little corner was simply waiting for me to put the dry dishes away. 

I've also seen things that you can put over a sink in order to get more counter space. I only have one sink, and am constantly using the water from there when I cook, so it wouldn't be practical for me. But I think if you have a double sink, it would be great! (They sell these at places that sell RV supplies... and really, what better example of a small kitchen than an RV?!)  

I do have a wonderful strainer the fits over the sink, so it often comes in handy when I need more counter space. 

Of course, use the obvious: your kitchen table. My dining table happens to be right in the kitchen, so I just move stuff out of the way and onto the table when I'm cooking. 

4. Use your oven for storage. I'm always surprised at the number of people who only have a baking tray stored in their oven -- or nothing at all. I have a ton of stuff in there -- in fact all of my baking, muffin and bundt pans, plus a few Pyrex casseroles have made a home in my oven. 

Of course it means that when I use the oven, I need to remove everything. I usually just put it all on the table or on my bed. (Place an old towel on the bed in case there are yuckies stuck under the pans -- unless of course you have a spotless oven. In which case you probably have an immaculate and large kitchen... and you're reading this for entertainment rather than actual hints.) 

5. Choose smaller appliances. Unless you are a baker by trade and the Kitchen Aid stand mixer was your non-negotiable, choose appliances that are better suited for small spaces. After borrowing my mother's nearly 40-year-old hand mixer for a few months, I knew I needed to look for my own. I found this Sunbeam one on sale. 

The whole thing packs into a mixing bowl with a lid. I keep it on top of my fridge. The lid keeps everything dust free, I don't have to hunt for another mixing bowl, and it takes up far less space. 

Along the same lines, I do have a blender that I love using. But unless it's the summer smoothie season, I keep it in the back of the cabinet and just use my smaller stick blender when I'm making soups and small quantities of blended goodness.  

Of course having a small kitchen doesn't mean you can't use other gadgets and gizmos. I have a giant dehydrator, a popcorn popper and yogurt maker, but they usually stay stacked in the closet until it's time to use them. 

Happy cooking, no matter what size of a kitchen you'll be using! 

Small Kitchens, Big Dreams

I love having my own kitchen, even though I joke that it's the smallest kitchen in America. (I'm sure it's not, but for the record, my counter space is smaller than my desk -- and that's not very big.)

When I finally moved into a place where I wasn't sharing someone's dishes, or using tea towels that I hadn't picked out (read that lament here), I was so ecstatic the space was mine that I didn't care how big or small the counter was -- I would make it work. 

I acquired my own tea towels, found nooks and crannies in cabinets for the ever-growing Pyrex collection, and I managed to cook an astonishing amount of food in such a small space.  

Occasionally, though I feel like it's not working. When I burn something, I have to open the front door -- which is only a refrigerator's width away from the stove -- to let the smoke out before the detector blares again.  
 
My tiny wooden doll from Bulgaria seems to stare down at me from the spice rack, as if to reprimand me for cooking in such a small space to begin with. 

Perched next to the Hungarian paprika, she herself is a size more fitting for my doll-house like kitchen. 

I have to remind myself that my kitchen is still much larger than many people around the world. My friend Natasha taught me that anything is possible -- even in a doll-sized Ukrainian kitchen. She has one of the tiniest kitchens I've ever seen. Yet I've eaten some of the most delicious made-from-scratch food from that kitchen. 

A while back, I saw a photo essay on kitchens in various parts of the world. I wish I had bookmarked it, because now I can't find it. 

I did however, find this gem during my search: a photobook project by Gabriele Galimbert, featuring grandmothers from around the world with their favorite recipes. There's some serious inspiration in many of those dishes -- and most of those kitchens don't look enormous to me.   

Over the years, I've also been inspired by the kitchens I've eaten in around the world. It's made me realize that we have fallen for a great lie in America in believing that the bigger the kitchen, the better the cook (I blame the Food Network, even though I too drool over their kitchens...) 

I don't think there is anything wrong at all with having a big kitchen. In fact, I'd love one myself. I dream of counter space that I can actually keep appliances on top of, rather than in boxes in the closet. I think it would be grand to have a place for all of my pots and pans so that they're not on the stove top 24/7.  

However, I don't think having a small kitchen should stop you from cooking, experimenting and generally enjoying the culinary process. My kitchen and I have made a mess together of homemade ice-cream, dehydrated apples, yogurt, bundt cakes, cupcakes, beef and chicken pies galore, stir-fries, French fries, brewed kombucha, soups from scratch and so much more.   

I think small kitchens can sometimes wield the most miraculous outcomes. So rather than dreaming of a larger kitchen, I'm dreaming up new dishes to make in my small one.

Later this week, I'll be posting some small kitchen organization tips. In the meantime, happy cooking!

Kitchen Disasters II

Last week, I found a can of pumpkin during a cupboard clean out. I know it's not pumpkin season, but it was still in date, and wouldn't make it until next Thanksgiving. Plus I had a recipe for sour cream pumpkin bundt cake that I wanted to make to bring to a friend's.

I dutifully got the ingredients together and taped the recipe onto the cabinet (my fail safe way of getting it out of my way while still being able to read it.) 

Where I put the recipe doesn't seem to make a difference, because apparently I can't actually follow directions. I accidentally stirred two sticks of butter into the streusel mixture, instead of two teaspoons. (Don't you hate it when there are two separate ingredient lists in a recipe and you read from the wrong one?)

I thought the mess in the bowl looked a bit funny. 

I like to think of myself as a fairly decent cook, and I have gotten better over the years at trying out new recipes and techniques. But I still have my share of kitchen disasters.

This time, I thought I could possibly salvage the operation. I really didn't want to throw out an entire cup of butter, and all of that brown sugar, so I looked up what I could do with it. 

I just discovered Super Cook -- a search engine for recipes based on what ingredients you already have.

Wouldn't you know... there's a recipe for brown sugar shortbread right here. I added more brown sugar, the required flour, and left the all-spice and cinnamon right in mix. I also dispensed with the idea of adding granulated sugar to the top of the shortbread. Really, the brown sugar in the mix was plenty.

An hour later, voila. 

I'm definitely keeping this recipe in my repertoire. You never know when I'm going to accidentally use too much butter again. 

The sour cream pumpkin bundt cake was also a roaring success, thanks to the fact that I had extra butter on hand to actually finish it. (It was also cute... how did I not get a photo of it?!) 

I love it when kitchen disasters have a happy ending. Let's hope this trend continues!

The Great Gravy Boat Giveaway and a Happy Blogiversary

Six months ago, I tentatively published my first post on this blog. I say tentatively, because I knew I needed to start a blog for me, even if nobody else read it. 

Thankfully, it appears that some people do actually read Typing Sunflowers. Whether you have stumbled here through a random Google search, or because I gave you the actual address, or because you're a fellow blogger seeking inspiration, welcome. I love having visitors! 

To celebrate my six months in the blogiverse community, I'm giving away a little of my Pyrex collection. I told myself I wouldn't end up becoming one of those 'collectors', but becoming a member of the Pyrex Collective III blog opened up a whole new world to me -- and I couldn't pass up any inexpensive piece of Butterfly Gold. I found this little gem at an Idaho yarn store that also housed antiques. (Um, hello, dream retail job...) 

I started using my gravy boat a lot -- even for non-gravy items, like the juice needed in this orange marmalade cake. 

Soon, I found a matching underdish on Etsy. (What did we do before Etsy?!) The plate was also being sold with an additional gravy dish and matching plate, and all three were cheaper than purchasing just the plate on eBay (And what did we do before eBay?)

Now I had two gravy boats and two plates. The Sailor doesn't mind my thrifting habits, but he does mind excess. And really, I don't need TWO gravy boats (especially in the same pattern!) So I'm giving this one away: 

That's right.  

I'm GIVING AWAY a gravy boat. 

The underplate is included -- exactly what you see in the picture above. All you have to do is leave a comment below, telling me which Pyrex pattern is your favorite. If you don't have a favorite, that's okay. You can just say hi. Or tell me what you do collect -- or what your favorite color is. Just leave a comment. Contest is open to anyone -- not just Pyrex collectors. Most of us probably started with only one piece in our collections. Maybe this gravy boat is meant to kick off yours?

Contest closes at 23:59 EST April 30, 2013. Winner will be chosen at random and announced May 1st. No purchase necessary. The winner has two weeks from the date of the announcement to contact me for their prize. If I don't hear from the winner within the two weeks, they forfeit their prize and I will draw another name at random. Void where prohibited by law. 

(And yes, contest is open to those outside of the USA. I travel a lot, and I believe Pyrex should be available in all countries. In fact, I'm feeling so generous, that I'll even pay for the shipping.) 

{This giveaway is now closed. Winner posted here.}

Gathering the Gooseberries

I went through a little bit of thrifting withdrawal on our recent travels. (Or 'drifting' as the Sailor likes to refer to my junking habit.) 

I think thrifting is the ultimate form of recycling though. Besides, who doesn't like a good treasure hunt? 

This weekend, I went out for coffee with my mom, and on my way to exchange some yarn in between, we stopped briefly at the nearby thrift store. 

THIS... in its full glory, called out my name. 

Those of you who know your vintage Pyrex will know that this Gooseberry refrigerator set is not an easy one to come by. I've seen the prices on eBay and frankly, it scared me off of ever finding one in an antique store, let alone a thrift store. 

But a few months back, I found this lonely little dish here. And I got a little glimmer of hope that more Gooseberry must be out there somewhere, at a reasonable price. 

My mom said she thought she saw rainbows burst out of me when I saw the full fridge set. You can read that story here and see what else I bought that day. I know I spent more money than usual (seriously people, I'm more of a bargain thrifter, not splurger... but occasionally there are times when rainbows burst out of me and I can't control myself...)

Of course my rule in purchasing Pyrex is that I have to actually use it. It can't just sit there looking pretty (although it IS pretty, isn't it?!) 

Avocado and tomato salad, along with homemade fennel soup. I remembered I had a fennel soup recipe I wanted to try out, so I purchased some at the local farmer's market. 

I've never used fennel in anything before -- but it is A-M-A-Z-I-N-G. The soup was little more than butter, onion, garlic, chicken stock and the fennel... but I think the secret was in cooking the fennel for at least 30 minutes to bring out the flavor. Yum.

As usual, everything tasted better in Pyrex. 

 

Kitchen Disasters

Awhile back, after posting about this lovely orange marmalade cake, and my holiday soirée, I promised a soon-coming post on kitchen disasters. Well, here it is. 

Meet my kitchen. 

Meet the magic that sometimes occurs even with limited counter space.

(What you see above is the counter. All of it. Seriously.) 

 Now meet even more kitchen chaos:

 Including the cake that simply fell apart when I tried to move it:

(For the record, that was supposed to be a chocolate peanut butter marble cake -- but I'm going to guess the original recipe didn't use natural peanut butter like I did, which is probably what should have kept it together.)  

Then there's the ganache that was far too gooey to roll into truffles: 

And oh so many more dishes that never get photographed...

The bottom line? For every wonderful creation I make in the kitchen, there is often a kitchen disaster story to tell. It might be a ruined dinner, a cake that somehow didn't bake properly, or something as silly as a dropped egg. (My mom used to say that eggs make the same sound no matter which floor they drop on... I have dropped enough eggs in several kitchens to know she speaks the truth.) Usually that dropped egg is the last one I have on hand and necessary for the recipe.

Thankfully, the Sailor doesn't mind a disaster every now and again -- as long as we have pizza delivery on speed dial, charcoal for the BBQ, or a Five Guys within driving distance, we'll be okay. He has also encouraged me on more than one occasion by reminding me 'that's how we learn...' 

I have definitely learned a thing or two.

Years ago, I paid too much money for a little black book on basic cooking. I thought I could use some help in the basic area of cooking some days -- most days in fact. 

Sure, I could do a lot of basic things. Growing up, I always prided myself on being able to boil an egg -- that often seemed to be the standard by which people judged someone's cooking ability: "So and so can't even boil an egg."

But I'd never poached an egg before, and my omelettes sometimes turned to scrambled eggs. Ironically, my egg timer supervised this sauce-of-something-or-other that turned whatever cake I made into a dish nobody should have to taste. So awful was the cake, I've completely blocked out the name of it. I couldn't tell you what was actually bubbling below except for that lonely cinammon stick.  

Like that cake, this basic book was a major disappointment. You see -- it was almost too gourmet to be 'basic'. They used words like 'chiffonade' and 'poivrade sauce'. It had recipes for lobster bisque and snail butter -- foods I never actually wanted to eat, let alone create from scratch.

When I wanted to make some simple scalloped potatoes, I searched high and low in this book for the recipe. I just wanted to know the cooking time and temperature. The book contained more than half a dozen potato recipes but nothing for scalloped spuds. (I eventually found the recipe in that old wartime cookbook...) 

Yet even though I keep wanting to just get rid of this book, something stops me every time I put it in the 'giveaway' pile. I think it's because I need to just try something 'basic' out of it -- even if I can't pronounce it -- even if it might be a flop.

Tonight, when I picked the book back up and flipped through it, I saw the instructions for how to poach an egg. 

I suddenly realized that after all of these years, I have still never tried to make poached eggs before. They are pretty basic, after all.

Perhaps it's time. I think my little kitchen can handle it -- as long as I don't drop the eggs on the floor first. 

If I master that, maybe I can work my way up to snail butter. I've discovered there are no snails actually in the butter -- just garlic, parsley and shallots.  

And when all else fails, I know I can still boil an egg. I can also make oatmeal like a champ. I'm also convinced that anything tastes better in Pyrex. Read more here at the Pyrex Collective III about my hunt for cereal bowls.  

Family Kitchen Mergers

Growing up without much money, my family got creative with how we entertained ourselves. As a child, I would page through my mom's old, dog-eared wartime cookbook whenever she used it, especially for baking. I loved the photos -- they transported me to another era with pictures of dinner parties, jello molds and decorative cookies.  

When I was old enough to understand the significance of this cookbook in my mother's life, I told her it was the one thing that I wanted her to leave me when she died. The book had been my grandmother's, passed on to my mom at a young age. 

Several years ago, my mom decided that I shouldn't have to wait until her funeral to have my own copy. She found another one online and presented it to me as my very own -- yet still promising me her heirloom edition one day.

I have several old cookbooks from yesteryear, but this one is by far my favorite and I use it frequently. Recipes may have changed over the years, but some things are still classic -- like Yorkshire Pudding. Now I have my own notes and bookmarks falling out of my copy. 

Nowadays, I also appreciate the back section of the book with wartime recipes on a budget.

Around the same time my mom gave me the book, I had recently returned from the Sailor's hometown. During my stay there, I made the Sailor's family a pie. I searched high and lo for a rolling pin -- frustrated that I didn't know where anything was in the kitchen. (Read more about that here.)

My mother-in-law saw my frustration and dug into the cabinet. She handed me what appeared to be a glass bottle. 

I looked at the lid on one end and then I looked at her.

She explained that it was for keeping pastry cold -- you load the rolling pin with ice-cubes and then it keeps the dough chilled while you work with it. 

This was ingenious! I had never seen such a thing before. I somewhat joked with her that she could leave it to me in the future. Sometime later, I realized I needed to acquire my own rolling pin, before I continued to covet the one in the South African cupboard.

Last week, I found myself in the throes of antique hunting in Tennessee. I have spied a few glass rolling pins over the year, but they were always out of my price range. This time, on my second trip through the store, I found one for only $8. It's missing the lid, but I'm sure the Sailor can find something for me that fits. Besides, once the ice-cubes are in there, they're  not really going to 'fall out'.

This week, I realized that I now own two kitchen items that are symbolically related to my mom and mother-in-law -- and I still get to ask them both cooking advice. A perfect family history and merger. The only question remains is which recipe from that cookbook am I going to try out first with my new rolling pin?

Orange Marmalade Cake

Poppy seeds remind me of Ukraine. I ate more than my fair share of poppy seed layered cake in that country. I wanted to bake something equivalent over here in America, so I purchased what seemed like a ton of poppy seeds and scoured my numerous books for a recipe. 

I never did find the Ukrainian one. But I had all of these poppy seeds, and I also had a neat vintage bundt pan waiting to be used, so instead I made an orange marmalade cake. I have made it several times this year for guests, and even people who don't like oranges or marmalade (or even poppy seeds) loved it.

It became my go-to dessert, much like my potato salad has become my go-to side dish to bring to a picnic. 

Today, I made it again for my knitting guild party. The first time I ever baked it, the power went out 10 minutes after I put it in the oven. I don't remember why it went out -- but I do remember the cake didn't turn out at all. I needed to start the whole thing over once the power came back on.

I used the giant bundt pan I found at a thrift store for only $2. The recipe called for a 'large' bundt pan... but the cake turned out super short. The recipe was from a South African magazine. Apparently their large isn't quite so big as this thing:

While the cake tasted great, it was somewhat short. The next time, I used a smaller bundt pan I also found during a thrifting hunt -- the cake came out the perfect size. 

Today, while making it again, I don't know whether I was more excited to use that small bundt pan, or the juicer I scored during a weekend antique hunt. 

They both made me happy. The whole process made me again thankful for my own little kitchen. The finished cake made me smile, too. The gals at the knitting club hardly made a dent, but I won't be complaining when I have a slice for breakfast. I'm sure my elderly neighbor will also be thrilled when I give him a piece or two, tomorrow.

I'm still on the hunt for the Ukrainian poppy seed cake recipe, though. This cake is great, but it's not quite the same.

Pyrex Mania

I have a small confession. Ever since the Sailor and I got our own little apartment, I have been somewhat obsessive about the kitchen. When we first got married, we didn't always have our own place to cook. For a while we lived with my in-laws, then we lived in Cape Town with another family while the Sailor finished his studies; later we lived with my family.  

Sharing a living space is one thing, sharing a kitchen is quite another. I didn't realize how stressful it was until one day I nearly burst into tears as I told the Sailor that I just wanted to pick out my own dumb tea towels.

The truth was, the tea towels were only the beginning. I was tired of using someone else's dishes, pots, pans, and cutlery -- even if that someone was within my family. I wanted my own. Even if I had my own stuff at that point, it's not the same having to share the space with someone else. 

(I do realize how selfish this sounds... and I also know how blessed I have been over the years considering how many people share kitchens all over the world, but hear me out nonetheless.)

Sunset from our flat near Cape Town

Before we got married, I had been living overseas. I never really had my own kitchen. Even in the few years in England where I lived on my own, post-university, I had a slew of guests come and go, and I was using dishes and the like that had been given to me. When I moved back to America, I felt like I had missed the last decade and everyone else moved forward by owning kitchen gadgets they hardly used (at least in my version of the story). I simply wanted my own knives and a few dishes. Maybe I was being selfish. Maybe I was just being practical. But I'll never forget trying to make hash browns from scratch on our honeymoon. They were a flop, but the Sailor simply reminded me that the cooking equipment at our bungalow was inferior. Right then and there I knew I married a man who understood how much a kitchen meant to me, even if I didn't know yet how to wield the equipment with which to cook.

We had some seriously stunning views in the places we lived -- especially in Cape Town, but I was also using the equivalent of an easy bake oven to make our meals. I was pretty proud of myself for learning how to make meatloaf on a hotplate until we got the little oven, and I was even prouder of myself for baking an entire loaf of bread in the thing -- even when said loaf rose precariously close to the top of the oven.

Moving into our own apartment, the Sailor had his say as to where some of the furniture went, but when it came to the kitchen, he told me he didn't mind what I did with it -- it was all mine. 

Because we were nomads for so long, most people gave us money for our wedding. The cash suited our lifestyle at the time, far more than toasters and blenders did. Besides, we never registered anywhere. I couldn't reconcile the idea that I had invited people from at least three continents to our wedding, and it would have seemed odd to me to have people bring breakable china on a plane to our small ceremony. In any case, I had nowhere to put plates or any material gift in whatever kitchen I was utilizing at the time.

When we finally got our own little space years later, I realized that in addition to furniture -- we needed not only dishes but an entire kitchen complement. I caved and bought my knives, my stainless steel pots and my cast iron pans new, but nearly everything else came from thrift stores. 

Suddenly I was drawn to older kitchen stuff. I remembered my mother-in-law had an old glass rolling pin -- the kind you could put ice into to keep dough cold as you rolled it out. Nobody here had ever heard of such a thing, so I took to scouting out antique shops in search of one. I still haven't found a glass one, but I have amassed a small collection of vintage Butterfly Gold Pyrex dishes along the way. 

At first it was just a small mixing bowl -- I thought it would go well with all of the sunflowers in my kitchen. Then I began to realize that this old Pyrex stuff was tough -- I figured if it had already survived 40 plus years, surely it could survive my kitchen? 

I began finding pieces bit by bit. 

My favorite ones by far were the refrigerator dishes. I liked the modern Pyrex glass dishes with the rubber lids (as opposed to their inferior plastic cousins) but there was something about these older ones that really caught my eye. 

I decided to hunt for the full set of the Butterfly Gold refrigerator dishes. I managed to nab the medium sized 'butter' dish and another smaller white one while weekend antiquing. 

This week, I found the large refrigerator dish. Sometimes, I just have a hunch that I should wander into a thrift store. That day, I went into one on my way to another antique store, in search of some vintage jadeite for a friend. Right as I was leaving, this little beauty stared at me through the glass: 

Can you hear the moment of triumph? The clerk most certainly heard me squeal.

While I don't usually get pieces that are damaged, I made an exception for this one which is only slightly scratched... but totally chip free. For the price, a few scratches were totally worth it. 

So there you have it. The whole fridge family. Happily, I paid less than half of what I've seen lately on eBay and Etsy for all of them. And before you wonder why I didn't just order them online from the start -- for me, it is more thrilling to hunt for them in person. 

In retrospect, if I had to do it all over again, I'm glad I shared so many kitchens and so much cooking equipment with other people. It helped me realize that I can cook anywhere -- in any space and with anything. And I still wouldn't have registered for dishes even if we had our own place back when we got married. (I doubt anyone has a registry for vintage Pyrex in any case.) Far more fun to build the collection this way, I think. The Sailor doesn't seem to mind. In fact, I think he's less overwhelmed when I build my kitchen collection piece by piece instead of all at once.  

And, thankfully, he no longer has to hear me spout off about tea towels.