It got me thinking about my kitchen. This kitchen is very small. Like, extremely. We play jenga with the many mugs we own, and woe betide the person who tries to get the other colander out from that cupboard lest it cause the saucepan lid avalanche. But I love it, because it's full of stuff that's tied into memories of the past 22 - almost 23 - years of my life. The cupboards are full of things that I love.
Things that are brand new (like our cupcake teapot) and very old (like my great-granny's tablecloth, which is currently on our dining table). Things that were given to me by family when I first moved in to the house, and things that were given to me by friends as they were leaving the country. Things that my previous housemates left behind as they moved on to the next stage, and things that my current housemate brought when she moved in a year and a half ago. Things that were bought when I was doing my first shop for going to uni, and things that were bought spur of the moment or because they seemed like a good deal. Things that I used when I was still living at home, and things that I've bought for myself since leaving home. Gifts, leftovers, hand-me-downs. All in my kitchen, being used every day.
When I was a child, and to be honest even now, I coveted the big earthenware mixing bowl my mum had. Making cake always feels so much more satisfying when it's being mixed in that bowl rather than the plastic nesting bowls. So my godmother, under the advice of my mother, bought me the most gorgeous Mason Cash mixing bowl, with a fox pattern around the outside - a perfect mix of the retro and the modern. It was put to good first use today, making the most gorgeous lemon and thyme loaf - which is itself a gift of a recipe from the Hummingbird Bakery "Cake Days" book.
What's the story of your favourite item in your kitchen?
