Showing posts with label kitchen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kitchen. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

The New Plan de Travail...

   Plan de travail is one of the many terms I've had to learn living in France. It means "countertop" and, because we couldn't decide on the exact shade of tile we wanted in the kitchen, we installed temporary tiles (left over from the floor) all of 14 months ago!
   Then, on yet another trip to Géant Carrelage in Pamiers, we both saw a colour we liked--and voila! Rather than describe them as "sort of greeny-blue-y-grey" I've realized that they are the exact shade of a couple of herbs in the garden--and a stunning contrast when you sit an ordinary orange on them.
    And there are your "art director moments" for today.
Some santolina trimmings from a rambunctious plant at the front of the house.
Dried, this is said to repel moths. We'll see...

    Cuttings from a curry plant. Will they develop roots?
I hope so.


Wednesday, August 19, 2009

First look at our new kitchen.


Okay, mes amis. Yesterday was the day when, after months of drawing and revising plans (I can't recommend the free downloadable Sketchup program enough) we finally headed off to our nearest Ikea store in Toulouse to buy our kitchen. To digress: wouldn't you think that Ikea--creative, design-conscious, cool--seems more akin to Mac people than IBM-ers. But noooooo....their kitchen design program only works on Those Other Machines. Hence Sketchup. 
   So here was how we envisaged the day. We would leave Léran early, do the deed with maximum speed and efficiency, and someone would meet us outside the store at 4 p.m. with a large white pick-up truck.
   We didn't get off to an early start. Something to do with a really good dinner with friends the night before. We roared up the N20 but it was still close to eleven when we arrived. As usual, we kicked off our visit with a pain au chocolat and a coffee handing over our Ikea Family Card as we did so. Little plug for Ikea. You don't have to have numerous kids to get this card, you can apply on-line, it's free--and so is all the coffee you can handle. 
    A double-shot later, subversion and caffeine surging through our veins, we went against the directional arrows as a short-cut to the kitchen section. They said you need a consultant and they're all occupés. Here's a pager. We didn't know how to use it and kept racing back every time it beeped. Turns out we had to await a triple-beep which arrived just as I was swigging my first mouthful of lunchtime rosé and digging into my shrimp salad. 
    Back I went, again against the arrows, sending French toddlers flying in all directions. A very efficient salesperson sat me down at a computer and together we went through the list. Eighty-odd items, 53 of them self-service. Because each item was listed with its precise location, the self-service part went fairly smoothly apart from a brief moment of panic when I realized that I'd put some of our cartons on somebody else's cart. 
   Lugging heaving boxes down from shelves has never been my idea of amusement especially when it's 35 degrees at least outside and not much cooler inside. Two carts later, we arrived at the cash desk where we had to split our order into two as the cash register was physically incapable of handling such an enormous receipt. 
   The truck arrived. Everything was loaded on. We all sweated buckets. We then made our way towards the depot to pick up the other 31 or so pieces. A brief déviation because of roadworks, an outright disregard for a "no entry" sign on the way to the highway and the truck and the Clio were off on the road to Pamiers. 
   Where we picked up a fridge. Here's a shot of the back of the truck as we drove home where we unloaded, cracked open beers and ate a late supper by candlelight in the garden. 
    

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Just one shelf in the kitchen


The two shelves either side of the stove have almost reached saturation point. Here's a section of the one on the left and here's what it holds. Left to right:
1) A tiny, tiny china figurine that was contained in the gateau du roi we ate at Christmas. Think of it the French version of the sixpence traditionally mixed into a Christmas pudding. You see a lot of these diminutive people for sale at flea markets.
2) A somewhat larger figure of a chef. This is actually a timer. 
3) One of many jugs--but here's the thing--still holding the bunch of now very dried mimosa I bought back in February.
4) A big fat blue teapot on loan until we come upon one that's just as big and attractive. 
5) A row of three china canisters for tea, sugar and coffee which, logically, is what's inside them.
6) Behind them is a 3-D map of our department, the Ariège. I have no idea why we bought this or what it's doing in the kitchen.
7) A very heavy pestle and mortar that I brought back from a trip to Borneo. 
8) A glimpse of the Bodum coffee maker.