A few days ago, La Maya and I made a run on a couple of estate sales. The first place was disappointing—looked a lot better in the online photos than it was. But at the second place we both found some loot.
Check out this fine junk:
That pan, which I’d call a brazier or braising pan, was part of a large set of aluminum-core stainless steel. Wolfgang Puck. Not a bad pan, not the best, but more than good enough for government work. Similar Wolfgang Pucks on the market are going for $30, which is what I paid for the entire collection of valuables.
These folks decorated in the 1980; hence lots of blue and pink. The blue and pink mugs seem to be pretty good quality stoneware. They’re not signed, but they’re high-fired and in good condition. There actually are four of them–two are in the dishwasher just now.
My beloved yellow-and-blue mugs from Pier One have crazed on the inside. They still look pretty on the outside, but the cracked interiors have soaked up enough coffee and tea stains as to be more or less uncleanable, this side of soaking them in Clorox. An exercise in futility: bleach the stains out and the next time you pour a cup of tea, you have the map of the crevasses of Mars again. These dated pink-and-blue fellows will do until I spot (and can afford) another set that inspires love in my heart.
And in spite of the equally dated pink and blue design on the little Italian dish, it has some real charm. Seen in a context completely devoid of pink and blue, it ceases to cry “1988” and looks like a sweet little decorator item.
The Chantal knockoff teakettle is a Kuhn-Rikon. The amount they charge for those things new is a little on the startling side. On the other hand, the newer models look like they’ve undergone some improvements. This one is all stainless steel, including its (wonderfully loud!) whistle and its handle. It’s not surprising that the steel whistle would get too hot to pull off without a potholder. But the handle? You can’t touch the handle, either, after you’ve boiled water in it.
Come on! All my stainless pans have steel handles that stay cool unless you put them in the oven.
So that was disappointing. The blue Le Creuset that resides in the kitchen now (and will continue to reside there) has a plasticoid handle and whistle, both of which stay cool on the stove. You can grab the whistle with your bare hands the instant live steam stops shooting out. Part of the connection that holds the handle on has chipped, moderately alarming, but it’s been like that for a couple of years and shown no sign of falling apart.
That model of Le Creuset was the perfect teakettle: pretty design, no ersatz early-American look, audible whistle, easy to use, well made. Well, naturally, like any manufacturer, the instant Le Creuset sensed it had made a perfect product, they yanked it off the market. That kettle is no longer available. Of course.
Speaking of bargains and near bargains, how d’you like my new dining room chair covers?
Mwa ha ha! Bet you can’t guess where that fabric came from!
I’ve been searching for something to go with the orange wall (which is not, as the picture suggests, puce) that would look Southwestern, Provençal, or Mediterranean. Nothing. It’s either hideous flowers or bizarre geometrics or ghastly colors.
Drove all over the city looking for fabric. Nothing. A couple of places online had some pretty fabrics, but most of them were a bit on the oh dear! side. Some that looked really neat online could have been anything by the time they arrived in the mail and spread themselves over the chairs.
Not so long ago, M’hijito and I went lurking in Pier One, searching for a small desk of the sort he envisioned but could not see on this earthly plane. And lo! There I found the fabric.
What was it? Curtains.
Window curtains. Not only that, but they were on sale! I got them for a nice discount.
Why didn’t I think of this before? A curtain is, at base, a length off a bolt of fabric with hems on four sides. One panel provided enough to cover all four chairs, and then some.
There’s enough left over to make Cassie a collar. If I could just find some interfacing. Doesn’t anyone sew around here anymore?
. They want six bucks for it. Not bad…if asked, I’d guess it was worth about four dollars. Problem is, they want another $5.00 to ship it, for a total of $11.00!
. Ugh. I should’ve bought the $25 number when I spotted it at Costco!
at Fry’s Electronics. Bad move: whereas the Eureka does not suck (literally!), Fry’s return policy decidedly does. I just hate the Eureka. And I hate taking things back to Fry’s so violently that I’m resigned to keeping the piece of junk, or donating it to Goodwill.