Holiday mega-post – or that time I referred to inanimate objects as children.

Is it really time to get back to the real world tomorrow?!

Just kidding, I worked on Friday.

But still, tomorrow definitely marks the actual end to this lazy holiday haze that’s settled over my days since Thanksgiving.  I hope everyone had an amazing holiday season, spent the time you wanted with those you love, and ate your god damn faces off.

I know I partook in all of that (maybe a little too much?), and also came out of it with a fully stocked kitchen.

Let’s start with the fact that Boy bought me a two-hour chocolate candy workshop at the same place I took my knife skills class months ago, the weekend before Valentine’s Day. (I also got a $75 gift card for the same store – I foresee a long shopping trip full of moseying in my future.) While there I will (according to the website) be making “Melt-in-Your-Mouth Chocolate Truffles, each dipped in chocolate and then rolled in a topping of your choosing, Creamy Peppermint Patties Dipped in Dark Chocolate, Strawberries Dipped in White, Milk or Dark Chocolate and Candied Orange Peels Dipped in Dark Chocolate.”

IS IT FEBRUARY 7 YET?!

Boy also got me the coolest cutting boards I’ve seen. After saying for months how much I need wood as opposed to the plastic I’ve been working with, these are now in my possession (as well as a stainless steel KitchenAid knife block):

PhotoGrid_1419824852391They look like books! Very befitting for my literary self.

He also got me a spice rack I’ve been eyeing up. As you can see it compared to my old lil rainbow go-round, this new piece is damn sophisticated – and contains things like fennel seed and Herbs de Provence, spices I’ve not normally stocked in my kitchen. Bonus? The designs of the spice containers make me feel like a wizard with potions.

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And last, but nowhere near least – my new pots and pans. Unf. A 10-piece stainless steel Cuisinart set was gifted to me from Boy’s dad and it is gorgeous. Mom bestowed upon me my highly anticipated cast iron skillet, a piece of equipment I am actually afraid to pick up and use not because of its weight (though, my god, it is heavy) but because it is so GORGEOUS and FLAWLESS. There is, however, a cherry cobbler recipe I’ve had stashed for such a moment, so I will be breaking this bad boy in very soon.

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When we got home from Pennsylvania last Sunday night I wasted no time unpacking the deluge of presents we got while in town. I did this mainly because I didn’t want to have a mess to clean hanging over my head during the week, but mostly because I had a kitchen to rearrange, man. 

Many of my pans and pots are hand-me-downs, so those had to go. Yet, as I was sitting on the cold linoleum of our narrow kitchen area, stove-top accomplices of all shapes and sizes surrounding me, I found it hard to throw any old pieces out. Like, any of them. Even the skillet with un-scrubbable stuff caked on the outer rim, the pot so dented the lid no longer fit. Sitting before me were gorgeous pots and pans that truly had no business being around such worn down things. and yet…

Boy walked into the doorway, silently peering down at me. He stood there for a beat and said nothing, fully accustomed to my obsession with all things kitchen.

“So.” More a statement, giving me some room. “How’s it going?” said after there was no response.

I wish I could have seen myself in that moment, through his eyes – because I have no idea how he didn’t burst out laughing. Her was his 28-year-old girlfriend, forlorn, distraught – over appliances.

But, the man is good, and stoic he remained.

“They’re just…” I trailed. I knew what I was about to say was somewhat crazy. “They’re like my kids, you know?” Coming out of the mouth of a woman who has never birthed children, nor ever plans to. “Yea. Like kids. I don’t want to let them go.”

Silence.

“Hmmm,” was all he said. Thoughtful. Agreeing. He took a minute to take in the mess I had made, smiled and walked away.

He knows me so well. He knew there was no way he could persuade me either way, to just let me figure it out myself.

So, goodbye cruddy pans. So long, misshapen pots. A new era has dawned in my kitchen with 2015, one of cleanliness and care and pieces my mother said will “last until you die.”

New cookie sheets are next.

I hope no one is around to witness that tragedy.

 

 

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