The Sugar Bowl
Everyone has a kitchen junk cabinet or drawer I suppose. You know the type. That one skinny, almost useless cabinet drawer combo that all builders sneak in all houses since the early 1970s just so they can advertise the additional “counter space”. Well I am fortunately cursed, I have two. One is next to the door that opens to my garage, holding the random flotsam that speaks of my domestic prowess. The Kitchen Aide grinder attachment used for homemade sausage and an underutilized counter top ice cream maker make up the lion’s share. The other space is by far more interesting. On the left-hand side of my stove, flanking the door to my tiny dining room, is another skinny, narrow cabinet and drawer combo. The drawers on the bottom hold the vast majority of my cooking utensils. Wood and stainless-steel spoons collected and gifted over the years, various deadly looking implements for juicing, zesting, and pounding all matters of edibles to perfection. Above the handkerchief sized