so you wannabee a Domestik Goddess?

I’m not saying I want to own this bed.

Just, sheesh! look at that incredible thing! To call such a bed “furniture” seems a bit of an understatement, doesn’t it?

It may not be immediately obvious why it’s called a dragon bed, but in among all the intricate carvings of flower designs are a pattern of dragon scales much like those on the imperial throne of the Qing dynasty, as well as other carvings of dragons and phoenixes. Sprinkled in are the symbols for happiness and long life.

Some experts estimate that it would have taken 10 workers a total of at least 3 full years to complete the job of carving the dragon bed — it’s made of 4 tons of precious jade.

Yang Zhibin, a collector from the city of Banjin, China, is the lucky owner.

You know how the other day I went on quite a bit about personal taste in decorating? And about how some people manage to pour all kinds of money into making their home look… well, quite hideous, really?

Cartoon: Robert Weber
The New Yorker, April 3, 1989
by permission

That whole discussion of “good taste” in the home has reminded me of this favourite cartoon from The New Yorker…

And who doesn’t like to poke a bit of fun at pretentious rich folks?

Well, other gaudy rich folks, maybe…

Afterthought #1:

Here’s a little travel tip for my fellow femmes:

If you’re travelling alone in North America, and you don’t want to be hassled by optimistic convention-going salesmen in hotel lounges or on long flights… I’d strongly recommend picking up a copy of The New Yorker and letting ‘em see you enjoying it.

Don’t ask me why — perhaps it’s the implication that you might be too intelligent and refined to look twice at any man who tries to get dates in an airport? — but it works like a charm!

Afterthought #2:

My uncle always used to say, of pretentious people who were rude to him, There ain’t no couth like uncouth!: I’m pretty sure that wasn’t original to him, so feel free to make it your own. In fact, I’d love to know who came up with that quip, if anyone happens to know…

… okay, that’s all I’ve got here.

And speaking of good taste… finally, here’s the egg separator of my dreams.

I usually go one of two ways with the task of separating eggs: either avoid egg-separating recipes as much as possible, or do a little finger-dance routine with a wooden spoon and two measuring cups. The latter method takes great skill and dexterity, neither of which are guaranteed on any given day. And you’ve got to do one egg at a time, that way, so an accidentally broken yolk won’t spoil the whole batch of whites.

So for years I’ve been meaning to pick up a conventional egg separator gadget, to make that cooking task easier. But, well, you know how that goes…

And now — here’s a truly crave-worthy egg separator, cunningly handcrafted as a big-nosed pottery person. What a perfectly useful gadget, and a great fit for my own whimsical kitchen decor, hint hint! Or maybe pick one up to keep on hand for a hostess gift, or for the next time someone invites you to a kitchen-themed bridal shower?

Just break the eggs into the ceramic container, tilt it forward, and voila! Your egg whites will stream, oh so elegantly, out of those pottery nostrils — whites all nicely separated from the yolks — no fuss, no mess, if perhaps a few giggles from your kitchen crew.

(And, why might we want to be able to separate the yolk from the egg white? Don’t all answer at once — but hands up, everyone whose first thought was of light-as-air meringues to impress your mother-in-law? Okay, now, and who says souffle? Omelet? Sponge cake? Waffles? Well, you get the idea.)

Peter Petrie Egg Separator is $12.99 at Stupid.com
(Hat tip to Tal Siach)