Kitchen Lust: Yauatcha Atelier Teacups

Design*Sponge linked to these teacups the other day, and I have been deep in lust ever since. I love the little branch handles, the smooth white surface, and the suprising pop of gilt on the inside. They would look amazing on any table, but I keep picturing them on a stretch of heather gray felt.

Sigh.

Kitchen Lust: If these don't motivate you to bring your own bags, I don't know what will.

I consider myself a realistic idealist, if that makes any sense. I have a few - but not too many (that's the realist part) - core principles to which I adhere with all my might, and I try to live them every single day.

One of those is living in a reasonably eco-friendly way. Being a New Yorker makes this a lot easier - haven't owned a car in eight years, don't buy bottled water (NYC's being the best tap water ever), live in a small space, use mass transit, donate old belongings to Housing Works, buy as much food locally as I possibly can, and so on.

One more thing I've started doing in the last 18 months or so is carrying re-usable shopping bags everywhere I go. I carry a combination of canvas tote bags (which fold up nice and small) and sturdy nylon shopping bags. The canvas bags are great for books, clothes, and greenmarketing (keeping your purchases slung over your shoulder makes it a lot easier to check out the next stand), and the nylon ones are perfect for toting your lunch or an all-in-one grocery run.

My favorite nylon bags are the ones by Baggu - there's just something stylin' about their shape, and they come in every color under the sun. When it comes to canvas, my favorite sources are the Etsy sellers The Craft Pantry (who made the bird tote and French produce sacks above) and Jose Pulido. (You can also find re-usable produce bags made of netting on Etsy.)

So go on, take the plunge - you'll look cool, and feel cooler. Seriously.

Photos courtesy of The Craft Pantry and The Monterey Garden Club.

Kitchen Lust: Le Parfait storage jars.

When in doubt, go French. This applies to pretty much everything in life: food, wine, travel, stockings, kissing, and, of course, kitchen storage.

A few weeks ago, I tired of shoving my coffee beans into Ziploc bags and nestling them into the tiny bits of spare room available in my kitchen cabinets. I had some free real estate on my counter (thanks to my mother's donation of an antique secretary for my living room, in which I have stashed, among other things, my mug o' writing utensils), so I decided to monopolize it with two Le Parfait storage jars.

Why two? Well, one for my espresso beans, and one for my regular coffee. The jars are gorgeous - well-propotioned, sturdy, stackable. Just looking at them makes me smile, and the ergonomically friendly latch ain't nothin' to sneeze at, either.

You can find Le Parfait jars on the Fante's Cookware website. Just click here and scroll down till you find the "Le Parfait Canning Jars."

Kitchen Lust: Vintage glassware.

If I had more cabinet space, one of the first things I'd invest in would be a collection of vintage glassware. Wine glasses, water goblets, champagne coupes (the ones above are available right now on Etsy) - you name it, I'd take it off your hands.

My ultimate goal? A motley yet curated collection that wouldn't look out of place on the best Parisian flea market tables.

Want to do what I can't? Go ahead and search Etsy and eBay, and don't tell me what you find. I'll just be too jealous.

Kitchen Lust: Follow-up.

So, I did it! I bought the Moka Express three-cup espresso maker from Bialetti, and today I had my first two cups of espresso. I am very caffeinated, and my apartment smells positively divine. Three cheers! Three cheers! THREE CHEERS!!!

Ahem.

Kitchen Lust: FrancisFrancis! Espresso Machine

Like any good New Yorker, I love coffee. Cannot get enough. Would drink it morning, noon and night if I could, and often do, frankly. (Not all the time, though - a girl needs to leave room for her Diet Coke and her booze.)

My coffeemaker of choice is a Bodum Chambord French press - I love it for the counter space it saves and also for the rich, hearty brew it produces. But one thing it doesn't do is make espresso.

To date, I haven't invested in an espresso maker - it seems like an awful lot of money for something that would probably be used two times a week, maximum. Plus, it would take up precious counter space in my tiny kitchen. But, if I could buy any espresso maker on earth, I think it would have to be this powder-blue FrancisFrancis! model. It's gorgeous, it's hard-working, and it's long-lasting. What more could a girl want?

But, alas, at almost $900, it's way out of reach. So I think I might go low-tech and spring for this Bialetti stovetop model. Starting at $20 for a three-cupper, it seems like the way to go. Plus, it's charmingly retro in its own way, dontcha think?I sure do.

Kitchen Lust: Smooth and shiny.

Read into it what you will, but I love pepper mills. There's something so timeless about the turned-post shape. It's like the original (according to Wikipedia, Europeans were using them as far back as the 14th century) was made from a discarded table leg lying around someone's workshop and the shape has stuck ever since.

I have a gorgeous pepper mill, a hand-me-down (or pre-heirloom, if you prefer) given to me by my grandparents. It's walnut with brass hardware, and it can grind pepper however you please, from fine to barely cracked and everything in between. It's big enough to feel substantial in your hands, but not so big that it looks ridiculous sitting on the counter.

Why, then, you might ask, have I had my eye on this blue number from Peugeot? Well, partly because it's shiny (I have a love for lacquer), and partly because it's a happy, colorful version of the classic I already own. Think how nice they'd look standing next to one another! And think how well a pepper mill collection would complement my burgeoning mortar and pestle collection! Grinding implements from around the world...I like the sound of it!

Kitchen Lust: Martha strikes again.

I love Martha Stewart. I'll say it again - I love her. Is she disturbingly placid, even when clearly upset? Yes. Is she a ridiculous, over-the-top perfectionist? Double yes. Is she a terrible neighbor who doesn't accept cookies from the family next door? Triple yes.

But, but - that perfectionism, that competitive spirit, that slightly manic drive...all these contribute to the fact that when she puts her stamp on a product, you know said product is for real. Which is why I have been drooling over this cast-iron pot for ages. It's a fabulous color - a bit more celadon than teal when viewed in person - and the quality is superb. I've been to Macy's, I've checked it out, and now that it's on sale for $60 (yes - a cast-iron, enameled, 7-quart pot for sixty buckaroos), I've ordered it.

I cannot wait to make osso bucco...or to braise a whole duck...or to deep-fry some doughnuts for dinner party petits-fours...or...

Kitchen Lust: Pretty aprons for pretty cooks.

Anthropologie subscribes to a French flea market aesthetic, one which dictates that no household item, no matter how mundane, shall remain un-fancified. Tea towels are flounced and fringed. Doormats are creweled. And the humble apron is turned out in toile and needlepoint.

While my tastes run a bit sleeker in most of the house, I fully embrace this idea when it comes to my kitchen: since I can't renovate it, I have to cover its seventies cabinets and fake-wood linoleum somehow. Currently, I'm obsessed with the idea of a wall rack full of their aprons, feminine, flouncy things that hug your curves while protecting your cashmere. Unabashedly girly, they're practical, too, turned out in 100% cotton and machine-washable.

After all, if you have to wear something every day, and look at it in between, don't you want it to make you smile each time it catches your eye? Plus, if your apron is this pretty, you don't have to take it off to greet your guests.

Kitchen Lust: Floral arrangements, minus the flowers.

It's that time of year again - Christmas and Hanukkah are zooming toward us faster than you can say "relentless onslaught of commercial exploitation," and I'm loving every minute of it. The recent barrage of tabletop features in my favorite food and design periodicals made me realize that I've yet to bring my unabashedly shallow and materialistic love of, well, things to this blog.

Now, let me backtrack a moment here - I actually think there's something inherently un-shallow (you might even say important) about the relationship we have to the objects with which we fill the space around us, even more so when those objects serve a functional purpose in our lives. And so I'm introducing what will be a regular feature, Kitchen Lust. If you're as in love with beautifully designed tools and whatnots as I am, read on. If not, I promise to keep talking about the actual food, too. Honest. Now, on to the latest object of my adoration.

I love flowers - I'm a firm believer in (if not a terribly faithful follower of) the principle that one should have at least one spray of blossoms in the house at all times. I love the luxury of tightly bunched little poseys, and I find solitary stems, particularly calla lilies, to be incredibly elegant. That said, I'm not a huge fan of huge floral centerpieces. They have their place at more formal events, but for home entertaining, I prefer to set a table with candles and solid, earthy objects, perhaps with some greenery thrown in here or there for freshness.

Imagine my delight, then, upon coming across this idea in November's issue of Domino: feather bouquets. The feathers are naturally shed by pheasants and guinea hens, so not to worry that they may clash with your humanely raised turkey (or vegetarian spread, for that matter). Bunched together in pure white faux bois vases (a current design craze), the feathers bring a rich, unexpected, velvety texture to the autumnal table. Even better - they won't die! You can use these over and over again. Plus, they match nicely pretty much every decor imaginable, from French country to mid-century modern.

Now, my idea of what constitutes "pricey" is often well below Domino's own mark - but, in this case, we seem to be working at more or less the same level. The feathers are available for $38/bunch from (the otherwise ridiculously expensive) Source Perrier Collection. Go forth and feast beautifully!