Until last week, we had just one wooden spoon in our kitchen.
Possibly the oldest kitchen item I own, it is a warped and aged thing, of a variety that you find lurking deep in the ‘Kitchenalia’ section of dubious antique stores. Scarred by age and immune to the vigorous attentions of the dishwasher, it is also so short that every time I stir a boiling pan I risk steam burns and often drop the spoon entirely, having to fish it out with the toast tongs. Why it did not occur to me earlier to buy a new spoon, especially when regularly purchasing such random things as toast tongs, I do not know.
Finally, I did.
I bought six in fact, having a tendency towards excess when shopping. They are long and beautiful and - let’s face it – rather dull, so I dug out all the leftover tester paint pots from our shed and gave them a good stir. I taped off the tip of each spoon handle (use masking or washi tape) and then gave each two coats of paint. When dry, I sealed with a satin varnish. It took just an hour or so from beginning to end, but the result makes me smile. Somehow stirring a dish with one of these makes it seem inherently more likely to taste good.
(As I study the photo above, I notice I’m still somehow unable to throw away the short-and-unhygenic-and-entirely-useless wooden spoon that inspired this project).
Have a wonderful weekend! It’s a glorious one here; sunshine and daffodils and blossom and only an occasional gust of window to remind you that you are in England, still, and thus need to keep your wits, and woollens, about you.