In my grandmother's kitchen, a scoop lived in a large azure flour bin under the countertop. It moved the flour onto the board in a small cloud, then cleared the well for the eggs. I did not think about it again for years. Then I started making my own, and there it was.
These are built from slabs of porcelain clay, folded and pressed, so each one keeps the slight asymmetry. Some have a striped handle. Some are tied with a leather cord.
The colors keep changing. One came out the pink of strawberry fondant, one the green of a garden in spring, a grey one was approved without much ceremony by my cat. There is no fixed palette, and I like keeping it open.
A scoop is not a precious thing. It goes into the flour, the coffee, the sugar, the ice and comes out covered in whatever it just moved. That is what it is for.
More on the flour bin, and the grandmother behind it, in the journal.
More in the journal.
A note on care:
Dishwasher safe, handwashing recomended. Full care notes here.
Where to find this work:
Match strikers are currently sold at As You Like in East Williamsburg.
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