Friday, January 28, 2011

Bottles & Jars
(or thoughts on kitchen vessels)



by Mary Courtney Blake


I have recently become enchanted by bottles and jars and such.  Now, hear me out, this is not some fleeting obsession of a collection crazed neurotic... no, this is the excitement of an artist discovering something beautiful in something that she has never taken a moment to notice before.  I should add that my fascination is not merely aesthetic but is also firmly founded in the practical.

I work in a restaurant.  And, restaurant kitchens, as you may imagine, need to be extremely well organized and need to adhere to all kinds of codes and restrictions that our homes would simply never imagine.  As it turns out, my brain is the kind of brain that has a very hard time with organization.  After throwing out yet another round of forgotten foods, I recently decided that it was high time for my home kitchen to adopt the system that I have come to know in my restaurant kitchen.

There is really nothing mystical about restaurant kitchens... in fact, if you have never experienced one I am afraid that you would probably be sorely disenchanted if you did.  Everything is clean (if it is a restaurant worth its salt - pun intended) but so well used that it is hardly recognizable to the normal human eye.  Sautee pans look more like horrifyingly beat up miniature woks than your beloved frying pan at home.  The metal on the stove has been irrevocably discolored due to heat exposure creating a kind of tarnished stain that no amount of bleach will remove.  And, the refrigerators are filled with countless plastic containers of varying sizes covered with masking tape labels that remind one of doctor's charts containing all of the patient's vitals.  All in all, I prefer the aesthetics of my kitchen at home.  However, my kitchen does not have the organization and ease of operation of a professional kitchen, that is, until now.

At one point in time I do remember buying stacks of tupperware.  There is no evidence, however, of this memory anywhere in my kitchen.  What I have whittled down to over the years, as leftovers have walked home with neighbors and rubbermaid sandwich containers graduate to holding bits of art supplies or become traveling doggy dishes, is a mismatched and often incomplete set of mostly ineffective plastic things that I really should just send to the recycle bin.  Thus is born my jar journey.

I was mincing garlic a few weeks back so that I would have some on hand whenever I might need it (another carry over from the restaurant... mise en place).  Riffling through forgotten containers for something to store it in, I came upon one of those little jars that at one time probably held jam or honey but was most likely saved to hold renderings from the stove that would need to be thrown out.  I took that little jar and filled it with my beautifully aromatic freshly minced garlic.  Searching for masking tape to label my jar with my newfound convictions, all I could find was blue painters tape leftover from my living room accent wall endeavor.  So, I boldly continued with my label, marking not only my jar's contents but also the day they were prepared.  In the restaurant I would also include my initials... but I thought that might be a little redundant in my own kitchen.

There it was, my tiny jar of garlic with its blue label and clearly marked vital statistics.  I felt proud.  This was the beginning of a brand new era in my home.  An era where food would not be forgotten and where accidental science experiments would no longer take place in my refrigerator.  This is when I noticed that my jar was not all together visually unappealing.  In fact, it had a certain air of noble humility, like the grace of work worn hands.  And, with each passing day and subsequent use of my garlic, I liked my jar more and more.

So I began to search for other interesting jars.  Olive jars that would normally be sent to the recycle were suddenly being washed with loving care and stored for future delectable endeavors.  Large glass containers brought home from work had dreams of holding homemade noodles or yummy soup leftovers that could feed the neighborhood.  I even spent an embarrassing amount of time online researching antique and unusual jars and bottles.  I had visions of antique milk bottles holding sweetened iced tea or freshly squeezed lemonade.

All of these tangents have led me to the conclusion that, though decorative or antique would be interesting and I may one day add some to my collection, the more humble and simple the bottle or jar perhaps the better... I think maybe the food gets to shine that way.