Looking around my apartment, I see that somehow my tastes in food have influenced my home décor. The kitchen has an eclectic country look: a pine-and-oak armoire holds our good dishes and cookbooks, we rest a champagne cooler on the rush seat of a Hitchcock chair. My tea kettle is tomato-red. The pitcher I use for water at dinner is the color of cream. My cow-shaped creamer is the color of blueberries and I often drink my coffee from a Chinese porcelain cup the color of lemons. The living room is more formal with a bookcase in dark wood which stands on our treasure: a large Karastan rug from the 1920s, inherited from Chuck’s grandmother. I pulled together a few of the accents in the room: ceramic cats in cream, a celery-green ceramic vase, cranberry glass from Slovakia.
I like the way these things capture the brightness and zest of fresh fruits and vegetables and good-quality dairy at the height of their freshness. It’s a more stylish reminder to forgo the junk food than a pig magnet stuck to the front of the refrigerator.
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