eat and greet: senta

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

iittala champagne flutes

As evidenced, I got camera happy. But look, I'm a proud new Mommy. The Iittala Senta Champagne Flutes pictured below are now mine and have found a happy new home on my bar table. These don't get hidden away in the cabinet. Oh, no. These beauties are on display. Their sleek, sophisticated, and decidedly Scandinavian shape, out in the open, for all to see, like artwork.

And the start of a collection. A mix of champagne flutes, old and new, to delicately cheers when the time is right for bubbles. Congratulatory or otherwise. The time is always right for bubbles.

For a set of Iittala Senta Champagne Flutes, click here to purchase from AllModern.com

Full Disclosure: Iittala Champagne Flutes generously provided by AllModern.com (of CSNStores). All opinions are 100% my own.

who i am

When faced with the question of what food means to me, conversation inevitably shifts to my Mor-Mor (Swedish for Grandmother): A phenomenal cook who refused help in the kitchen and didn't believe in recipes. The real deal, if you will.

Mor-Mor had a seriously strong hand with garlic (surprisingly for a Swede) and an innate knack for making anything taste implausibly delicious. There was always a jar of homemade garlic oil in her fridge which found its way drizzled on top of almost everything. Like one of her breakfast treats: homemade bread slathered with garlic oil, a few slices of granny smith apple, and topped with extra sharp cheddar. Into her beloved toaster oven they'd go until the cheese had just melted, lovingly, over the apples. The salty-sweet combination could make your head spin—a beautiful cohesion of flavors and textures from such an unexpected pairing.

And then there were her meatballs. With her homemade tomato sauce made from tomatoes grown in her garden, picked when perfectly plump and warm from the summer sun, a ladle of garlic oil, and tons of parsley (Mor-Mor may or may not have been secretly Italian), they sent eyeballs rolling to the backs of people’s heads. The thought alone of her in that kitchen makes my heart long, once again, for her cooking. For her.

Now when I'm cooking, I finally understand her insistence on navigating the kitchen alone. There's something about getting in there and winding down and having your own personal space to create that’s beyond therapeutic—it’s wholly fulfilling and soul-satisfying.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

iittala champagne flutes

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