Kitchen Tchotchkes

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The green sea coast marshes heading north. 2007.

Himself: Swam, meal in a new breakfast place…to discover our favorites are better, ran errands and grocery shopped, pharmacy, went to the PB cooking store….what an amazing place. NCIS and NCIS LA necessitate us to make sure we have a hotel in Cambria that will get CBS next week. Herself: Swam, all of the above, and worked on several new poems. Ditto today plus air suitcases. A blog you might like: Pat of Past Imperfect enlivens any day. She tells us that she is Grandmother but still a girl at heart. Married to her true love after three careers: trained paediatric nurse, National photographic model and business woman. Reading: Needing to find a book or two to take along with us on the trip. Gratitude: Lessa.

We stepped out of our usual yesterday and into the new. There’s a cooking store in PB that I’ve been longing to find. Cooking classes and isles of discount cookware….only it wasn’t too discount. All the wonderful cast iron pots and pans, acres of knives, and miles of gadgets lined up to suit every sense of humor and budget known to man or woman.

At the back of the store, there was a good sized class ongoing behind a glass wall. We hoi polloi could stand and watch if we were of a mind unless we were sucked into the isles of goodies. Only one whole wall of cookbooks….mine are far more entertaining. Slicers, dicers, twenty mandolins in various metals or plastics, and imagine two isles of pot holders and towels also.

They did have, and I have been searching hither and yon, those plastic scrubbie, round things that won’t damage teflon. They had cap snafflers….to open almost any sized jar. We bought two and could make one work. But they didn’t have the single layer, toweling style pot holders….which is what I really went for. Mine are worn out, and the double layer pot holders are too bulky for my funky hands.

We still spent too much, but oh we did have fun just looking at all the kitchen tchotchkes amid the crowded isles. We may be living through a depression, but this store is basking in a mid-week isle crush. I can’t afford a three hundred dollar pot, but I can admire all these men and women who can.