Well, I know the answer really, obviously - those nice shopkeepers would love us to love all their stuff, and buy ourselves into a self-induced debt. Well, not totally self-induced. I bought a seductive-looking home and lifestyle magazine the other day, wanting to dream about the day when we are no longer renting a mould and damp-infested magnolia-coloured cramped and cluttered house. Our old house was totally different. For one, it was not even magnolia-coloured - it was "Picketfence", actually. As well as "Harbour" (pale blue) and "Cape Cod" (a slightly greener shade of blue). They were all shades in the "New England" range of paints, bought from a well-known DIY chain. Despite the fact that these shades were probably not that different from other paints available, I fooled myself into thinking that "Picketfence" would be the most perfect shade ever. To the point where my long-suffering husband resorted to scouring branches across a few counties in a desperate search for any remaining pots of it, just so that we could finish painting our dream home. So, I bought into the lifestyle dream, believing that the only the New England range would do. Which is ridiculous really. As if my everyday life would in any way be affected by the exact shade on the walls. I am not advocating slopping any old shade on your walls, but really, there are more important things.
Similarly, why on earth is a big kitchen accessories and lifestyle shop trying to convince us that we want to invest in an outdoor wood-fired oven, with stand? Granted, it looks gorgeous, and if you have nothing better to do with £800, you should go for it. It will come in really handy during those 14 days when it is actually warm enough to cook and eat outside. Perhaps I am more of a wuss than some, although my Danish heritage should surely have shored me up for some cold weather. I just prefer eating in comfort, not the cold. But according to the aforementioned glamorous magazine that I bought, I could really dine in style with this thing. So hey, maybe I should go for it : 0
But seriously, I always fall for the spiel - that is why our kitchen is a grave yard of broken dreams. Well, deserted dreams anyway. Dessert dreams in fact. Take my cute pink cake-pop maker - so gorgeous-and check out the perfect cake-pops. Aren't they just darling?Look at their little round, smooth faces - there's a pirate, complete with eye-patch and red and white-spotted scarf. There's a chick, just right for Easter. In fact, the only two times I have used the sodding thing, the cakes have been mediocre-looking at best, just embarrassingly drippy at worst. I imagined that I could simply slide the stick into the balls, but no. They slipped and slid and seemed very precarious, and occasionally fell off the sticks. As for the icing, it was an icky, gooey mess. Lumpy too, once I added the decorations. Then the pops would just stare out at me from the fridge with their sad, lumpy faces. I am exaggerating slightly to be fair, a few looked alright. Still, when I showed up with them to a child's birthday party, even the toddlers weren't keen. What happened there? Perhaps cake decorating and me just weren't meant to be. It may be in the genes. I still remember the time my mother insisted on leaving her marzipan and pistachio roll chocolate free, while my father duly covered his in the sweet stuff, to avoid the roll drying out. Consequently, when a piece of each dropped on the floor (conincidence?), our dog duly ate the chocolate-covered piece, and snubbed my mother's drier confection. Hm.....
I am not saying that I never use any of the sexy, seductive gadgets and accesories available for the modern kitchen. Merely that I sometimes buy things that I am practically destined to leave in the cupboard, because they belong in my dream life, rather than my real one. I do bake, but not things that require me to balance small cake balls on a stick.
Maybe it is time I stopped dreaming. Saying that, surely this year we can do loads of outdoor cooking.....right?
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