I was in my friend’s kitchen the other day and heard the sound of his kettle whistling. The crescending sound brought me back to when I was child and this was the one regular sound- a constant soundtrack to our household.
It struck me then, how much I miss this sound. That shrill whistle. The one that starts tiny and reaches a maximum high, demanding attention. Like a schoolbell that signals the end of the school day, this instantly recognisable sound is like the kitchen version of Pavlov’s bell. A cuppa is about to be made.
I have not had a stove kettle for years now. My kitchen is filled with appliances that make electronic bleeps. The microwave that goes teeeet teeeeet teeeeeet when it’s done with reheating your food, the oven that goes beeeeeeep when your muffins are ready. None with the charm of the stove kettle.
Since having dinner the other day, I have had the sound of the whistling kettle in my head and my eye on this little beauty by Alessi.
In the world of multiple-course dining, people generally fall into two categories. Those preferring starters to desserts, and those preferring desserts to starters. I fall into the third category, which means if I had my way, I’d have a starter and dessert.
Main courses tend to fall short of starters, and desserts look like sweet dreams. How do you resist?
I love how pretty pudding can look. The problem with pudding is that it looks better than it tastes. But that doesn’t matter. Although it is why cakes, ice-cream and all manner of candy look great on clothes and accessories.
Cupcakes are so popular because they look so good. I love baking ’em because I love how they are presented. Baking allows me to disguise my messy cooking in a pretty package in the form of a treat.
I remember In Barcelona, I stood in Papabubble. I was captivated by the magic-making of beautiful candy to the cools sounds of Lemon Jelly. I watched as the candymakers, these sugar-dreamweavers pulled colourful sugar into long strips, on which they built more layers of colourful sugarstrips.
And there it is: a piece of candy. Bite-sized and pretty much edible art.
When the candy sits in glass containers and the sun rays reach out, the shop walls are hit by a stained glass effect. They are sugar candy kissed.
On my walk into work every morning, I pass a tree that reminds me that spring is here. Even if it snowed a couple of weekends ago. This particular tree has been in full blossom, its branches heavy with sakura. I sometimes stand under the blossoms and have a little hanami.
Today, with my headphones on, listening to Northern Maine Junction by Chessie, I pause and have a moment where I feel unadulterated bliss. And I stand still allowing the cherry blossoms to slowly fall off the branches…with a certain grace that only comes with the beautiful.
It is so nice to discover something new. It is nice, even when it’s not new. But it is to you, because you’ve only just discovered it (21 years later in this case).
One Friday, at Cocadisco in The Dolphin I found myself in Happy Station. Although to be honest, the DJ actually played Colour My Love. It has been approximately 3 weeks since I discovered Fun Fun and I have since bought a cd to tie me over until I get my hands on some vinyl.
Listening and dancing to the album has brought me endless waves of Fun Fun. I urge you to seek some Fun Fun. It’s happy music.