Foreign Countries with Spatulas

Initially this post was going to be about my s-l-o-w eating habits, but today I witnessed an event that was of greater importance. So much so it demanded a blog post.

Up by my library are a bunch of restaurants, bookstores, coffee shops, and grocery stores. In that midst, for no apparent reason, is a Williams Sonoma. To get to the library, you have to walk past this store which falls on deaf ears with me in terms of piquing my interest. Today, I watched a young man (30-something) run to the door and clasp that handle for dear life. He stopped once he had the door handle in his hand and turned to wait for his significant other who was still getting out of the car. He was huffing and puffing and beaming with pride at being only a mere moment from exploring the wild world of China plates, espresso machines, and lobster forks. Let me repeat it though: a 30-something male ran to the door of a kitchenware shop before his wife even had her seatbelt off.

Jeez, I'm honestly surprised he parked the car at all. Nothing says "I'm here to shop!" than plowing an SUV through the storefront of a boho culinary paradise. I mean, that's how I do it. Hence the reason I don't have a car.



Here is the inside of a Williams Sonoma. I'm already lost at identifying the majority of the things in the picture. I see a waffle maker. Maybe some measuring spoons. Bunch of bamboo baskets holding things that look like scented floral sachets. And wait a minute, is that a candle on the shelf?

For the domesticated person, these kinds of stores offer hours of entertainment and items to browse through that they can already envision whipping up a dessert with that's sure to please friends and family alike. For me, it's a place where I might drop something expensive and break it and get some old bitty trailing me to ask her "if you need help young lady." It's like a foreign country with spatulas and breadmakers to me. The few times I've gone, I've been with friends who speak the language there and may act as my translator when I stare at a whisk and demand to know who would spend $20 on it when there are flats you can buy for $20 more at the Macys next door.



Is it so terrible to never want to own a set of actual cutlery and spend the rest of your life using plasticware to eat? With all of its little neat compartments, why would it be a crime to transform a dishwasher into a magazine rack? When having a get-together of friends, does it really necessitate a full course meal to be made or can just cheese and crackers with a generous refillable portion of wine suffice? So long as you wear a flouncy apron and scrap off the burned edges, will the casserole still work as a crowd-pleaser? Once they get to the cold center, all you have to do is say that's how the original recipe from your grandmother that was handed down in the family for ages, clasp whatever utensil you have in your hand to your heart, and cry out "Bless her frail heart!" and boom, everyone is eating your half-baked disaster again.

I'm going to make some lucky guy a terrible/unique housewife one day.

If it helps, I do believe in keeping a nice set of wine, martini, and lowball glasses in a kitchen. You can even get them in non-breakable versions these days if you ever get a little too excited by all of your cooking skills.



Personally I get all of my cooking/hosting/crafting tips from a one Amy Sedaris...

Love to you all,
Heather