Not my Dad's Corian

When I was in high school, my Dad renovated our bathroom. I am the fifth kid out of seven making a family of nine. The house where we grew up was big, we had plenty of room. But times were different then, and the nine of us shared a single bathroom. That was some kind of fun, let me tell you. So Dad's decision to renovate the bathroom single-handedly was not one he undertook lightly.

My Dad never did anything half way, he still doesn't. Since this took place in 1979, he used Corian for not just the vanity counter, but for the shower surround as well. I never appreciated his labors until I was older (his labors on this bath as well as his many other labors) but the man was a marvel. Again, since it was 1979, my Dad's miraculous bathroom was a vision in Venaro Peach.

As my appreciation for my Dad's devotion and commitment to his family grew, my esteem for his choice of materials declined. Times changed and tastes changed. Over time, more materials became available and Corian fell from favor as the go-to choice for kitchen and bath surfaces.

I've been referring to it's entire category, solid surface, as dying for years. I think the last time I put it in a kitchen was six or seven years ago, and that was under extreme duress.

Well imagine my shock when I saw the delightful Jamie Goldberg's Gold Notes on Tuesday and I read her column about the "new" Corian. This is not my Dad's Corian and my predictions of its death might have been premature.

Corian has just re-tooled its brand and its palette. Check out these beauties.

Burled Beach

Egyptian Copper

Rosemary

Cinnabar

Juniper

Sonora

Earth

Lava Rock

Thyme

Really. Check out Corian's website.

Have you seen this fridge?

One of the more enjoyable parts of being a blogger is the relationships I get to cultivate with PR and Marketing people from all over the place. These are symbiotic relationships and it's interesting to be part of a rapidly changing media landscape.

So yesterday I got an e-mail from Sandra Bauman, from Bauman Research and Consulting. I participated in a study on induction cooking with Sandra over the summer so she knows I'm an appliance kind of guy. This time however, she's looking to talk to people who own a very specific LG refrigerator.

The refrigerator is 2009's LG LMX 28987ST, 4 door model. I have never specified one but I agreed to help find someone who has one. So, anybody? If you have one and are willing to talk to a market researcher about it, let me know. Thanks!

Screw "greening" your Christmas, make it sustainable instead

Someone sent me what has to be the fourth or fifth list of the ways I can "green" my Christmas yesterday and I've about had it. To a one, each of those lists concerned ways I could either spend more money than I would otherwise on unattractive crap or new and inventive ways for me to wear a hair shirt in public and thereby prove my "green" bona fides to passersby. Please.

Human civilization faces some very real and very pressing environmental problems. Left unchecked, a number of these have the potential to grow into outright crises and they need to be dealt with decisively and immediately. All of them can be traced to an American (and increasingly global) pattern of consumption. It's not just a matter of quantity of that consumption either, it's more a problem of that consumption's inefficiency.

The contemporary "green" movement was no doubt founded with the best intentions, but the more of its popular expression I see the less enthused about it I become. These Christmas lists I've been seeing are a terrific case in point. The problem is excess and inefficient consumption. So the solution cannot be more consumption. Buying a $75 Christmas tree ornament made from an old sock is still buying more unnecessary stuff. It's a more sustainable idea to just keep using the Christmas tree ornaments you already have.

The overpriced "green" trinkets and gewgaws being pitched around the internet are just another manifestation of this consumption problem. What needs to change is the impulse to buy stuff for the sake of buying stuff. "Green" consumerism is still consumerism.

A better way to think about your role in the face of these looming problems is to commit to using scarce resources wisely and efficiently. That goes for all scarce resources: energy, land, water, time and your money. Make a commitment to yourself and at the same time a co-commitment to the people with whom you share the earth.

So rather than a bunch of simple minded lists of how to have a "green" Christmas, why not just stop buying crap? Stop substituting things for your time for and emotional availability to the people you love. Gift giving is a great custom, one of my favorites in fact. But how smart is it to go broke every December?

"Green" ideas for this or any time of year start with the best intentions, but all too quickly become the social equivalent of methadone. Buying crap is still buying crap, regardless of its recycled content. So don't buy crap. See? No hair shirt.

What's for dinner? Why, a rapier wit of course.

My beloved friend and former next door neighbor Brandon is not only the best home cook I've ever met, but also his generation's greatest story teller. His blog, Where the Sweet Olive Grows, reads like a love letter to New Orleans and I savor his meanderings as I do a good meal. His post yesterday detailed his culinary adventures on Thanksgiving and he includes a recipe for a turkey that makes me long for the days when I could walk next door for a cup of sugar (I'm not kidding) and come away hours later with a full stomach and a head full of stories I'd enjoy telling my grandchildren. If indeed I had grandchildren.

Here's an excerpt:

Even though Martha Stewart is another of my illuminated inspirations, I went with a method that not only makes that bird incredibly moist, but provides the most velvety gravy you've tasted. Here I present my Maple-Roasted Turkey. This also works with a Sunday Night chicken and would be delicious with a pork-loin roast as well. Although with the latter, I would roast some charming lady apples alongside, to be presented as a buttery, spreadable condiment along with the pork. May legions of home cooks take note and grow rich:

Read this man.

Who says you need a huge refrigerator?

I went to a dinner party last night at my old friend Keith's. Keith lives in a recently renovated 1930s bungalow in a historic part of Tampa. He did a masterful job with his home. Despite the fact that it's a historic structure, he stayed true to his modern/ eclectic tastes while still honoring the architecture he had to work with. He did everything perfectly. The scale is right, the aesthetics are right and his use of the existing structure is spot on. Bravo Keith.

When I walked into his kitchen for the first time tonight I saw immediately that he had a suite of appliances by Fisher & Paykel. Again, bravo. He used two separate drawer dishwashers, a 36" gas cooktop, an under cabinet hood, a wall oven and a refrigerator. The refrigerator was the last thing I noticed and I stopped talking when it sunk in what he'd bought.

This is the fridge. It's Fisher & Paykel's 17 cubic foot counter depth. It's width is 31-3/8" and it's height is 66-3/4" and by American standards, it's a small fridge. He enclosed that small fridge with cabinetry on both sides which makes him stuck with that size appliance for life.

I am hardwired to specify at least a 36" wide and 72" tall refrigerator in every kitchen I design. I buy the story  that everybody needs a large refrigerator so thoroughly that even when I don't have a large refrigerator to work around, I leave room for one. I mean, doesn't everybody need at least 25 cubic feet?

So I asked him why he bought such a small fridge. He said, "Because that's all I needed."

Of course. You know, I don't think I've ever asked someone how big an appliance he needs. I automatically specify them to be as big as the space and the budget allow. Keith lives by himself in a small bungalow and his kitchen is a small galley. He grocery shops a couple times a week and he really doesn't need a big fridge.

I spend a lot of my working life helping people figure out the difference between their wants and their needs. Last night I learned that I have been blind to a whole category all this time. So really, how big an appliance to you need?