The Beloved Kitchen

The 6th of April was a turning point in our Maine farmhouse adventure. The temperature became warm enough to risk turning on the water without the pipes freezing. The island propane and plumber provider—the same man who has been switching this house on and off for the winter for the past 40 years —came by and worked his magic, switching on the water and getting the propane going.

We had been renting a nearby studio apartment since we arrived in late February, but with newfound access to hot water, the stove, and even the washing machine, nothing stood in our way to moving in.

But the house needed a deep clean first; we started to clean the incredible collection of kitchen tools, cookware, china, and linens that were spread between the kitchen, the "summer kitchen,” the walk in pantry, and —in the depths of the pantry—the old fashioned ice box, which held some of the most amazing discoveries.

I'd never seen an old-fashioned ice box. At first, we thought the ice box was just a walk-in closet, but when we pried open the door above it, we discovered a shelf that used to hold the ice. The door and walls of this closet are about six inches thick, lined with lead.

Though I had braved the cold in March to sort through the ice box, I still had a way to go. There were pots, pans, cast ironware, muffin and pie tins still waiting to be cleaned. But for a gal like me, whose life revolves around food, this has been like opening the door to Ali Baba's cavern.

For several days I washed every single plate, knife, and glass, discovering one gorgeous object after another. I am still working my way through the pots and pans—including four cast iron dutch ovens, two cast iron frying pans, approximately twenty muffin and pie tins, a good five blenders, two ice cream makers, and so much more...

As I started to appreciate the breadth of this collection of tools, I discovered these objects reflected our predecessors’ deep love of food, cooking, and the art of the table. Soufflés were clearly a favorite past-time. I have found at least two full size soufflé dishes, a full set of individual soufflé ramekins, and an enormous copper bowl (for zabaglione?) that will surely serve for whipping egg whites to a perfect soufflé lightness. In the study, among a collection of dozens of cookbooks, I found a visitor book in which one guest thanked our predecessors for an amazing Crab Soufflé Supreme. We will be trying that soon, I promise.

I also found a set of heart shaped ramekins, thinking they were for the soufflés, but on closer inspection realized that no, since they had holes, these were special Cheese-Making ramekins for Faiselle, a soft, fresh cheese. In a vintage Harry & David box from 1953 I found a set of heart shaped metal Timbale molds, along with a recipe for patties. It is now my mission to try all these tools and master them.

Our predecessors in the farmhouse must have also enjoyed sharing these meals with friends, and surely knew how to set the table. I have found every last type of cutlery needed for all occasions: Pickle Forks, Dessert Forks, a Tiffany Cheese knife with pick (pictured below), Soup Spoons, Oyster Knives, Crab Picks, Steak Knives, Lemon Zest Forks and Fondue Forks. Gorgeous table runners, lacework, and embroidered linen napkins. English porcelain, Chinese bowls, pottery stoneware, blown glass chalices. It is remarkable. On Instagram, @thebelovedkitchen I created a feed sharing one #kitchentreasure per day.

While Beau and I were house-hunting, I would sometimes tell our buyer agents, "I think the house we are looking for will find us.” How easily, and tragically, this collection of food tools and china could have ended up in the dumpster if the house had been bought by different buyers.

Although half the builders we have showed the foundations to think we'd be better off building a whole new house rather than trying to restore this one, we continue to believe it's going to be worth fighting for. The previous owners both passed away over the past few years, and their daughter, the seller, lives in New Zealand, so the house has been basically abandoned for several years and substantially neglected.

But the farmhouse has done nothing but give back to us, as if it is communicating its relief to have new caretakers. Beau and I hold our course with this leap of faith and trust the journey, wherever it takes us, will continue to be amazing.

The dishes are washed. Now to decide what to cook for dinner.  

More soon!