The Town Tart

Kitchen Update: Week Eight

The great kitchen remodel is nearly complete!  The beautiful Aga is in and it's everything that I thought it would be.  I haven't fired it up yet, but I can feel some of Rosie's chili coming soon to a stovetop near me!

To complement the cooking section is the gorgeous Fisher & Paykel double wall oven.  This thing weighs over 600 pounds and it took four men an entire afternoon to install.  It is the most solid, exquisite piece of machinery... it's like a Caddy.  The big hole there is waiting for the Sub-Zero -- we've been waiting 3 weeks, and we've just been told it will likely be another 2 before it arrives.  This is the only thorn in my side. I really want that fridge in.

  Our sink area with our fab Fisher & Paykel double dish drawers.  The lovely plywood is waiting for granite.

And our original nook.  The Mayor went nuts with a blowtorch to strip the paint.  I know, I know.  What can I do?  At least they will be painted -- the matching table will be inserted soon as well.  We've been sitting in the benches as is each night, dreaming of when the kitchen will be whole.  It's not far off now!

Kitchen Update: Week Seven

Well, there she is:  My beautiful Aga has arrived! She is still covered in protective cardboard, but she is sitting there ready to go!  I can hardly believe my eyes!

All of the cabinets have been installed and we are really happy with how they turned out.  Now, crwon moulding are being installed and it is the perfect finish. We bought shiny chrome pulls and knobs from Restoration Hardware, so once they are put in, everything will be complete.

Almost all of the appliances have been delivered -- we are only waiting on the fridge and microwave.  What a difference a week can make -- from a bare room to kitchen -- presto!

Unfortunately, The Mayor's patience is wearing thin.  He's tired of living in one room, tired of trying to work with all of noise.  I keep trying to bribe him with visions of curry feasts, but he's not biting.  We are still a while off from the end... the countertops will be a few weeks, so no sink. The fridge is another week away as well. All will be worth it, but it's a bit tense around the VBB at the moment!

Kitchen Update: Week Six

If my writing is a bit loopy I am going to blame it on the fumes.  The Mayor and I are floating from a contact high resulting from the sniffing of stains and polyurethanes.  We are living next door in the adjoining house and the smells have traveled through the floors, under the house and into where we are, rendering us completely sick.  Blech! as Lucy Van Pelt would say.

But, the floors are lovely, stained Sedona Red and coated in semi-gloss poly.  The cabinets are due to be delivered tomorrow and then we just wait for the appliances, which are being shipped from the four corners of the earth.  We are getting down to the little things like faucets and lighting... and funny enough, these choices are proving to be the most difficult.  The Mayor goes cross-eyed in places like Expo and turns crabby fairly quickly.  A Starbucks Red-eye bribe only lasts so long before he has to exit the store in a fit of frustration.  I, on the other hand, could luxuriate in those places like it was a spa day.  I love opening every fridge door.  I had to revisit the double wall ovens we purchased, along with all of the others that didn't make the cut.  The Mayor remarked, "Darling, we have already bought the ovens."  What he doesn't seem to understand is that I want to feel good about what I have purchased and I can only do that if I open them all and slam them shut and say, "Oh, ours is so much better than this one."

This week we also regrouped with the famous kitchen designer.  We picked out granite countertops:

It's called Volga Blue and has incredible depth and character.  And as JR the designer says, "It doesn't look cheap." Thank god, because it ain't.

So, all is still going smoothly but we are so sick of being kitchenless.  The Mayor dreams of being able to open the fridge to containers of leftovers.  I can't wait to cook something again.  The extent of my cooking has been heating a corn tortilla on the neighbor's burner.  But once that Aga is in, look out.  I'll have to throw parties for weeks to get the cooking itch out.

Kitchen Update: Week Five

The end is in sight for our little kitchen redo... the walls have been taped, mudded, sanded and coated with primer.  The painters are in to put another layer of primer on today and then a final coat of Swiss Coffee tomorrow.  Then it's on to sanding the floors after which we can start bringing in the cabinets!

We are really looking forward to returning to normal.  I keep having "phantom kitchen" feelings -- while I am laying in bed, I'll think, "let's go get a Coke from the fridge" only to realize, "Oh yeah, there's no fridge..."

On a side note, The Mayor and I went out to dinner recently.  Inspired by Sam's recent blog on expanding her palate over at Becks & Posh, I thought I would push my culinary boundaries by tasting something I normally would say "Absolutely No" too.  I always feel so immature when I say, "Oh, I don't do anchovies" or whatever is on the offer that is triggering my gag reflex.

This is what I decided to try:

That would be Sea Urchin.  The Mayor loves this stuff.  Anytime it's on the menu at a sushi place, he's going to order it for "dessert" (cue: gag-reflex).  Since he is such a fan and I hate missing out on something, and after a few glasses of wine, I felt brave enough to have a taste.  It was served in a risotto dish with fresh peas, with four little slabs of urchin on top.  I took the tiniest bite.

It tasted like the ocean -- that's all I can describe it as -- like swallowing sea water.  It was just... ocean-y.  But the texture -- that is whole other thing.  It just dissolves in the mouth and is almost, dare I say it, creamy (cue: gag-reflex again). 

I'm sorry; I gave it my best shot, but I can with almost 100% certainty say that I will never, ever try this again.  Jack Bauer could use this as a torture device on me -- I would tell all of my secrets.  Sea Urchin has set a new level of yuck factor for me.

I am disappointed that my first foray into more adventurous eating did not leave me with a new appreciation for said food.  But I did take that first step and I am happy about that.  I still turned down a bite from The Mayor's fresh anchovy salad -- I can only go so far!

Kitchen Update: Week Four

Things have been moving along quite well in the VBB kitchen renovation.  We've got insulation, new oak hardwood floors and the central A/C and heat installed.

The drywallers are coming today and then the floors will be sanded, stained and poly'd during the rest of the week.

The cabinets and most of the appliances, including my beautiful Aga stove are on their way, being shipped from the other side of the U.S.  Oh -- and big tip here:  We bought our appliances from outside California on purpose.  We found the best price for the appliances we wanted at Cutting Edge Appliances in Pennsylvania.  Not only did they have the cheapest prices, but shipping is free and no sales tax is applied because we bought out-of-state.  We would have paid literally several thousand dollars more to buy down the street.  God bless the Internet.  Really, what did we do before this invention?

Of course, it wouldn't be renovation without some drama, and here is ours for the week:  This is our closet.  No, it wasn't hit by some freak Nor'easter.  That is insulation, my friends... covering all of our clothes.

You see, the access hatch to the attic crawl space is in the ceiling of the closet.  Some builder genius left the hatch open and some other insulation genius just went blowing crap and must not have noticed that the crawl space was taking an awful long time to fill up.  Jeez.  I can't even deal with it.  I took some pictures this morning and left The Mayor in clouds of fluff.

Ugh.

Kitchen Update: Week Three

I know it doesn't look like it, but a lot of progress has been made in the last week.  The ducts for the central air have been installed.  A sub-floor has been laid.  All of the electrical and plumbing is in.  So, all in all, we are in good shape after only three weeks. 

We have moved back into the VBB, so The Mayor and I keep residence behind that closed door.  One room.  One really small room.  Crookshanks has been shipped to the Ritz again and my mother is growing cranky because Crooks eats with his paws (that's a whole other story) and then tracks his dirty feet all over her carpet before plopping down for a bath. 

The progress slows now because we have to wait until one job is done before another can start... for instance, now we have to wait for the insulation guys to come in before the drywallers can start...  The Mayor is frustrated because he's impatient.  I think it's nice to give the checkbook a breather.

Meanwhile, the bathroom has been transformed.  All of the tiling is done and we put in gorgeous carrera marble runners along the wall, in the window sill and the door threshold.

Is this the most fabulous faucet you have every seen???  Even our plumber was impressed.  He decided that because it's such a fancy fixture, that he'd rig the taps to open the "French" way -- so the hot you turn counter-clockwise and the cold you turn clockwise.  Well, that's all fine and dandy, but I can't get used to it.  Those damn French are just too clever!

This is an unfortunate piece of news... our front porch is collapsing.  Yep, that's sunlight peaking through... I'm no contractor, but I don't think that's a good sign.

Water damage and termites were the cause of this.  I don't know the solutions as of yet -- all I know is that it will be expensive.  But, this is for another day... after a HELOC is approved!

So, now we just wait.  Wait for the insulation, wait for the drywall, wait for the appliances.  And wait for that HELOC.

Kitchen Update: Week Two

And Jean-Claude said, "Let there be light."  And then there was light.  And it was a good light. 

Too bad it was in the wrong spot.

It's an interesting philosophical discussion to have at your next dinner party -- "Where is the center of the room?"  Is it the center of the floor, is it the center of the ceiling, or is it the center of something else altogether.

The Mayor and I debated over the answer, but what we did agree on was the placement of the skylight was off, way off... and it must be moved. Even after all of the rafters and a 2.5'x4' hole were cut.  Nope, can't live with it... move it.

We ultimately compromised on placement of the skylight, which only meant moving the damn thing over to the left about six inches, but it made all the difference to the look of the room.  Of course, it meant a whole day's extra work for Jean-Claude and Karol, but eh... it's only money, right?

And speaking of that... well, at this point, we are hemorrhaging it.  It's all of these "unforeseens" -- it's the "well, you see here, we've opened this wall and you have no studs" and the "well, you see here, we've uncovered this floor and your bathtub is sinking because there is no support" and the "well, you see here, this wiring is from 1923 and your pipes are corroded and we have to replace it all."

So, I come home one night this week to a kitchen and bathroom renovation.  These guys are quick with the ol' sledgehammer.  They removed everything except the original hexagon porcelain tile floor.  Underneath the tub, they fixed the floor boards and joists so that I can be spared that day when I am leisurely bathing and suddenly find myself sitting under the house in a cloud of dust like Pigpen.

The tub is a good old cast iron one so we are keeping it.  The toilet is less than two years old so we are keeping that as well.  Someone should have told Karol though, because as The Mayor was looking out the window one day, he saw our commode sitting on top of the heap in the dumpster.  He had to run out and rescue it, and now I am horribly embarrassed that our neighbors saw our toilet like that... it's like being caught with your knickers down... I feel terribly exposed.

But, things are getting better.  This is how I left the bathroom this morning:  Gleaming white subway tile galore.

On the bright side, we have ordered our kitchen cabinets. Originally, I was quoted over $35,000 for my tiny little kitchen -- just for the cabinets alone... Then J.R. entered my life and said, "Anyone who pays thirty-five thousand dollars for cabinets is an idiot." Well, right then. J.R's price?  Twelve grand. That's a hell of difference.  And I even get those whisper-glidin', automatic-closin' fancified slidin' drawers.  Yes, indeed -- this is how the rich must live.

The floor is now coming up as well, and we will finally get some insulation under there. [The Mayor wants photo credit.  Sheesh.]
Photo:  The Mayor

So, we are a bit under the gun here because our neighbor is returning this weekend, so the VBB has to be in some kinda shape for us to inhabit.  We just need a sub-floor and a working bathroom by Saturday.  Is that asking too much?

Kitchen Update: Week One

There is Karol in the shadows after the first of the walls have come down in the VBB kitchen.  The Mayor was there, snapped this picture and emailed it to me.  My heart lept into my throat. 

I know that it is no big deal -- people have their houses ripped down to the studs all the time, but to see it happen for the first time is quite a shock to the system. You live in a place for so long and then -- whammo! -- walls gone!

  This was the wall before it came down... look at all the detritus on the floor!

And here is what lurked behind the sink... nothing! No studs holding that window up! Once Jean-Claude, our contractor, and his faithful sidekick Karol took down the whole wall, they found that there were very few existing studs at all... the only thing holding up two windows and a door is stucco, my friends.  We live in earthquake territory... you do the math.  There are just some things you don't want to know.

Happily, in a day, our faboo crew was able to install new studs along that exterior wall and re-create the decorative arch that separates the living from the dining room, which will now also separate the dining room from the kitchen.

And this is where we leave off at Week One: Most of the demo is done.  All of the walls are down and now we start to rebuild.  We will be tearing out the floor, and then put in a subfloor and new oak flooring on top of that. We will also be installing a skylight.

Our plumber has been in to assess the needs and will be replacing all of the pipes with bright, shiny new copper. He has already replaced our feed line, which was 1/4" and is now a full inch.  He said we have so much water pressure we may have to put a regulator on the line to control the flow!  This is the first time in our lives we have ever had TOO much water pressure... this must be how the rich live!

Our electrician has come in to remove all of the knob and tube wiring. Our ceilings and walls were full of porcelain connectors holding all of the wires together.  They looked like little bones strung along some ancient voodoo charm necklace. He will be re-wiring the whole hut so we can plug in the hair dryer and the television at the same time with blowing the power out around the block.  Again, I am spoiled by the riches about to be bestowed upon me!

J.R. was out to do the final measuring, nattily dressed with a Burberry scarf and $500 Bruno Magli shoes.  It was the first time he met Jean-Claude -- there was a bit of "Do you know who I am?" going back and forth between the two swordsmen, but I think they got along okay.

It's a pretty snug space, so he was delighted that we were moving the washer and dryer out to the garage. It helped with his skeeve issue. But, it appears that we will be able to keep everything else inside, including Crookshanks.

As always happens, we have also reached the "While We Are At It" mode and have decided to gut the bathroom as well. Since the plumber is redoing all pipes, we felt we might as well re-do the tile.

The week has been relatively stress-free -- The Mayor and I have had only a few tiffs, which considering the scope of the project is not too bad. The VBB is on it's way to back to the future -- restored to it's former glory, with just a few little upgrades... like that Aga! We leave our nice little apart-hotel, Venice Suites, to move into our neighbor's house today... like a band of gypsies we go down the highway...

Kitchen Update: It's The End of a Really Ugly Era

So, the brilliant thing about "Subcontinental Food" which The Mayor and I have experimenting with over the past week is you don't need an oven to cook it.  Nearly everything can be done right on the stovetop, which was handy for me seeing that my "oven" went on the blink about a month ago and only two burners were functional.  Still, I was able to turn out magnificent feasts night after night.

So, look here:  Do I win for the Ugliest Kitchen Contest? Come on, I defy you to find a kitchen that is more stomach-churning that this one. (Notice the jugs of rum and tequila on top of the fridge... it's the only way we could get deal with this disaster on a daily basis.)

Just look at that "range." It has a range alright -- your choice from one all the way up to two burners! The options for the oven temperature are a bit more limited: just one setting -- blast furnace.

I got pretty good at cooking in it though -- I made several roasts that came out perfectly, but I did have to leave the oven door open through the entire cooking process.  It was a challenge keeping The Mayor and Crookshanks out of the line of fire (literally.) And aren't the burn marks coming up from the broiler attractive?  I think they add a little something special, don't you?

Here is the sum total of my counterspace. It's cleared off in this picture because we've moved everything out for the demolition this week, but picture it with a microwave and The Mayor's coffee pot and The Mayor's tea pot and his Monkey Picked Black Tea and my knife block and all other manners of crap on it. This left me with one square foot of prep space on a good day.

The only things left on the counter are two little jars: Spicy Mango Chutney and Indian Lime Pickle Relish left over from our week-long Subcontinental Feast and a box of Berry Lucky Charms cereal, which The Mayor received in a goodie bag and I have worked my way through by sticking my hand down the box, grabbing a fistful and stuffing into my mouth -- no milk needed.

Finally, here is the sink area. As you may have noticed, I do not have a dishwasher... not a crime against humanity, but the sink is about 5 inches deep with very little counter space to stack the clean dishes to dry.  Needless to say, the dishes after a big ol' feed had to be done in stages. And isn't the exposed piping under the sink attractive? That's what I called my "loft" look. The original 1923 icebox to the right of the sink is cute, complete with a door to the outside for the Ice Delivery Man, but not cute enough to save it from the sledgehammer.

This is the only thing that will be spared: our built-in nook.  We are not sure how we will refurbish it at this point -- all we know is it's staying put because we love it.

So, today is the beginning of a whole brand new kitchen, where I will be able to cook to my heart's content and to His Mayorial Pleasure.  Look what's coming:

Isn't she beautiful?  May I introduce you to the Aga 6-4 Dual Fuel range in Claret, but I just call her Heaven. Four different kinds of electric ovens (ceramic broiler, convection, warming, and traditional) and six, count 'em SIX working gas burners.  I won't know what to do with myself. Well, who am I kidding... of course I will.  I am going to cook for the masses. But, I am not stopping at the Aga.  A double-wall oven is going in (yes, I need six ovens -- leave me alone... they all serve different purposes), dishwasher drawers, a Sub-Zero -- I am going all out.  It's going to be the first real kitchen I've ever had, and it's mine, all mine... well, and The Mayor's... but, really, it's mine.

We started this journey a year ago, when we first bought the house. Like a John Berendt story, we have come into contact with outrageous characters -- some villains, some godsends. The newest member of the troupe on Team Godsend is J.R., a deliciously flamboyant, snarky, hysterical, brilliant and highly-entertaining fellow. We walked in to his kitchen design store this weekend and quickly received a dressing down for not calling first and making an appointment. "We are professionals," he demanded. He also insisted he was Italian, but his last name was very Irish. Eh. Whatever flag you wanna fly, right?  He's a seen it all, done it all, bought the T-Shirt kinda guy.

J.R. took one look at our kitchen design -- a plan that took The Mayor and I six months to think about and draw up and said, "I give this plan an F!" and promptly drew a big fat "F" on our lovely drawings and whipped a big fat circle around it.  He hated that we planned to have the washing machine and dryer in the kitchen. "It's skeevy.  I'm Italian -- we don't like dirty things where there's food." I said, Well you are really going to hate this:  We need a base cabinet in the kitchen to hide the cat's litterbox. "In the kitchen?" There is no other place in the house for it, I implored.  Look, we've got a 750 square foot house and a few non-negotiables.  You know that commercial where the couple goes to the architect's office and the wife pulls a kitchen sink faucet out of her bag, plops it on the desk and says, "Design a house around this." -- Well, we've got a washer and dryer, an Aga, double wall ovens, the built-in nook and Crookshanks' Boodaloo -- design a kitchen around that. I could see he was about to fit me for cement shoes.

But, in 15 minutes he sketched out a plan that one: we never would have thought of and two: was better than anything we could have ever imagined. We loved the kitchen and we loved him.

He asked me to call him today so he could fax over some roughs, but when I did, he promptly said, "Oh, I've given up on you. I can't deal with you and your kitchen." I thought he was kidding, but apparently he wasn't. Thankfully, he also thought I was someone else. "You are the shrink in the Malibu, right?" Uh, no. I'm the Tart, married to the Mayor with the twenty pound cat we need to accommodate in the Venice Beach bungalow. "Oh, it's you!"  Whew. So, you haven't given up on us, then? "No, darling, not you. Give me a call after the demo is done. I'll come out to measure." Oh, thank you Lord.

In the interim, we have had to vacate the otherwise blissful Venice Beach bungalow for the demolition phase, and will be camping at a local apart-hotel for a week or so, while Crookshanks has gone to his grandmother's house.  She calls it the Ritz, but he has to deal with two Siamese bitches while he's there, so it's not all catnip and scratching posts for him.  It's more like an Ian Schrager hotel -- surroundings are lovely, but the clientele is snooty, although the maid service is great. (Thanks, Mom!)

After that, we will bunk at our neighbor's place while she shows her movie The Ground Truth -- The Human Cost of War at Sundance. (Good luck, Patricia!) And, hopefully, by the Groundhog's Day, we will know if there will be a glorious kitchen in our future or six more weeks of construction.

So, probably not the best time to be starting a cookbooking blog, seeing as I will be in and out of kitchens, but I'll muddle through and try to entertaining. The Town Mayor and Tart have to eat... though, we do have our list of the 25 Best Mexican Restaurants in Los Angeles to work through. Published by Los Angeles Magazine in September 2004, we have hit 18 of them so far, and we need to finish that list so we can get to work on the Top 40 Korean places next.