Heirloom
Poke around any kitchen shop or website and you’ll probably be tempted by a rainbow of enameled cast iron, gleaming copper or steel pots, stacks of perfectly nested bowls. You may contemplate the trending piece of equipment guaranteed to enhance your culinary prowess, or an innovative tool that will streamline your prep. I have amassed my share of microplanes and pepper grinders, and I’ll wax rhapsodic about my Joule sous vide cooker. No joke—I keep it in my car so it’s with me wherever I travel, just in case I run into a piece of grass-fed beef that might need three hours of immersion.
However, time and again, I reach for the well-worn pieces that have been with me for decades. As my siblings and I moved out from our childhood home, Mom urged us to take whatever we wanted. That’s how I scored the coveted red tartan Skotch Kooler (not a typo) circa 1952, the 10-cup Revere Ware stovetop coffeepot from the year I was born, and a glazed mixing bowl.
The bowl originated in my grandmother’s kitchen and was passed down to my mom when she married. Tan with a blue stripe, chipped in places under the spidery glaze, the bowl emits that inimitable earthenware thunk whenever I tap a wooden spoon against its deep sides. God knows how many batches of cookies, cakes, bread or meat loaf we’ve mixed in that humble vessel.
The Skotch Kooler sings of pure summer. Nothing beat popping off the round metal lid and pulling out a bottle of ice-cold soda at a picnic or while watching a movie in our PJs at the drive-in theater. Now I delight in dumping a load of ice cubes in the cooler to chill Champagne or bottles of beer when my family gathers for the Fourth of July. The sight of that slightly dented red and black slice of family history is sure to prompt deep reminiscing. And vying for ownership.
As for the Revere Ware coffeepot, my husband and I use it daily, prepping it before heading to bed. Fill the copper-bottomed pot with water, scoop freshly ground coffee into the stainless-steel basket, pop on the glass-knobbed cover. In the morning, turn burner to mediumlow, head out to walk dogs, and by the time we return 30 or 45 minutes later, we can pick up the dark-roast aroma from the far corner of our yard, a sign that the pot is happily burbling. And then it sits on low for another hour or more as we meander our way through the morning.
Is it the fastest way to procure a cup o’ joe? Absolutely not. In fact, family members and guests often sneak off to the coffee shop half a mile away for their first morning blast rather than wait for our stovetop batch. Is our coffee of a consistent quality and quantity? Nope. Sometimes too strong, sometimes a tad weak. Occasionally we get caught up in conversation with neighbors along our walk and half the pot bubbles away before we return home. I just call it espresso. Well-intentioned guests have left us sleek electric coffee makers as thank you presents, presuming we would prefer something from this century but just hadn’t gotten around to it yet. We quietly donate or re-gift them.
Family heirlooms are often quirky, always beloved, and in the best cases, actively used. Traditions to be honored, perhaps endured, coveted exemplars of grace, function and humble beauty.
