I have been letting my blog slide for a long time. I thought I was letting it go because there aren’t enough hours in the day. Well, there aren’t enough hours in the day, but not partaking in the fun, creative part of selling antiques leads to all work and not enough play. So, we are back. We, because, my friend, Kathy, is going to write a post whenever she is moved by the spirit. I met Kathy in my shop. We both have tight schedules, so we have visiting marathons when we get a chance to see each other.
Kathy is a woman who let out just a little smidgen about herself from time to time. One day, she offhandedly mentioned that she is a pilot. Another time, she said that one of her children started a company, sold the company and was then in a financial position where all worry for the future was removed – before the kid was 30 years old.
I think she said that she used to go to England and help restore historic buildings for the British National Trust or some organization like that. She is a riot to hang with because she is witty, sharp of mind, up for anything, and a rebel. I like rebels. She never gets crabby. She is, also, a professional writer and editor.
21st Century Apple Cake in a 20th Century Pan
by Kathy Eber
For me, familiarity breeds warm fuzzies. If you step into my kitchen you won’t find a large, perfectly matched set of expensive cookware. But what you will find is well-loved, and comes with its own history.
See this Revere saucepan? I learned to cook with that when I was in junior high. I still remember seeing a candy thermometer attached to the rim that let my mom know the bubbling sugar and butter reached “hard crack” temperature when she made almond butter crunch. That same pan heated hot chocolate made with real cocoa and milk while we waited to add a flotilla of marshmallows. This pan doesn’t match anything… except the joy of seeing it still working on my stove.
Same with the aluminum baking pan. Yes, it looks wretched, but everything in it tastes great, just like it did all those years ago. The ladle came from my husband’s grandmother. Even though I never saw her cook, I think of her every time I use it. And let’s face it, besides being very functional, it’s pretty cool looking.
Some things I pick upon my travels have no connection to me. But you can tell by the wear pattern that they were well-loved by someone else. And so their story lives on in our family. What would these pieces say if they could talk? Will other generations carry our treasures into the future? I hope so.