Can you hear the angels singing?
Those gleaming pots, the rustic wood, the frickin' glorious range... Wow. Of course, that's not to say that I'd take it as-is. Replace all of that white with mossy green and a soft velvety black? Throw in some glossy red to match my prized mixer? You've got a deal.
It's a Porsche for my kitchen... Shiny, sexy, and just listen to this baby purrrrr
Of course, Adam will be designing the kitchen in our future abode, so I suppose I ought to run this by him first. I'm pretty domestic and I bake a mean apple pie, but he's the boss in the kitchen. That's what you get when you hook up with an ex-chef... and I am perfectly okay with that (as long as he keeps cranking out his signature dishes according to my whims). So, what do you think, boyfriend? Could you whip up a pomegranate-glazed leg o' lamb here?
5 Have Spoken.:
dearest lizzzzz
you need an apron for that kitchen.
love
me.
Oh Darling, this is why I need you in my life- I forget these little deails. Plus, you are the fashionable one, I'm only the homely wife!
i have an apron that i sewed myself.
i think that was the point when my boyfriend's mom decided i would be a good wife for her son.
come visit and i'll sew you an apron.
I have that mixer! It is wonderful-beyond-wonderful. My kitchen isn't quite as snazzy, though. :-D
Apartment Therapy = most.addicting.website.EVER.
Gawd, my kitchen is hardly functional. It's the one room that I will never post on this blog- it's an embarrasment. And, my landlord won't let me change ANYTHING.
AT... oh, AT. I'm a fairly frequent commenter and I always seem to be the one getting in little scuffles. Oh, the drama.
Post a Comment