sanctuary of junk.

there are some things you just can’t rush. pops’ buttermilk biscuits, sanding before the paint is dry, & constructing our junk headquarters. as junk conservationists, (that’s right, we’re not hoarders…we’re junk conservationists…it’s highly scientific. google it.) we consider it a duty of epic importance…it’s our duty to build a preserve for wild junk. an amiable habitat in which all junk can coexist with one another … a habitat in which all junk can live harmoniously and symbiotically in peace.

the entrance to this wild habitat is finally complete.

a sacred entrance to our sanctuary of junk.

complete with texas harbor salvage tin for the ceiling, chippy peely beadboard salvaged from old farmhouses across the county, and a spanish 6′ in diameter chandelier we scored from richard hargrove at zapp hall. the doors were custom made….we spent hours designing the perfect entry doors…dad scoured the country and had these made from our sketch out of old reclaimed cypress.

heres the before shot…

and just last week, this pink sink arrived on the pony express straight from jersey.

reclaimed and re-loved.

and this little piece of heaven…

{you were meant for me, & i was meant for you}

salvaged victorian ceiling tin from kwaku (featured in dierks bentley’s episode), chippy peely beadboard that our friend matt hager salvaged from a farmhouse in carmine, texas, a beyond awesome glass-with-giant-crystals chandelier we scored years ago from hector the collector, and even awesome-er (yep, it’s a word, google it) doors… (a moment of silence for these amazing doors with an even amazing-er story)… THE. DOORS. chippy peely PINK & white doors salvaged from an old man named HOOTIE (that’s right, y’all…you can’t make this stuff up) in asheville, nc. hootie had a long white beard and a creek running right through the middle of his shop. hootie’s in heaven now and we thank our southern stars that our good friend, nita, bought these from him about 15 years ago…and then we bought them from her at zapp hall. unfortunately, we never knew him, but may the legend of hootie and his white beard be forever immortalized at our junk gypsy headquarters. our sanctuary of junk. and lest i forget, the CRAZY huge giant corbels from our friend matt white at recycling the past (who also hooked us up with the PINK sink).

more giant corbels…


because bigger is better when it comes to architectural salvage.

annnnd more fleamarket lighting…

greeting all who enter our sanctuary of junk. stay tuned y’all…there’s waaaaay more junk making it’s way to our gypsyville world headquarters! we hope to open sometime this summmmmmer!!!

“a rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral.”

-antoine de saint exupery

May 30, 2012   84 Comments

GoD BLeSS buttermilk BiSCUitS..and the hands that make ‘em.

HerE in the SouTH, certain things are held sacred…giving thanks, FriDAY night FootBALL gaMES, and homemade buttermilk biscuits cooked in the oldest cast-iron skillet you can imagine. DaD’s been perfecting his bread recipes for as long as amie and i can remember…his mama was famous in all of southern ArKANSAS for her yeast-rise cinnamon rolls and he spent many an hour helping her knead, pat, and roll her dough. to him, bread is a science…an art…and believe you me, it is a DELiciouSLY beautiful art!

{daD on the farm - wayyy back when}

in honor of our first morning at our new-old cabin in the country, DaD whipped up some good ole fashioned BuTTERmiLK biscuits.

he first carefully & precisely measures the ingredients…GrANNY used to say it was against the law to measure…

{dad utilizes the same scientific measuring system that his mama used..."a dab of this, a handful of that"}

Man may not be able to live by bread alone…but I can. I love bread. I can’t get enough of it. give me bread or give me death.

{siftin the flour...never, ever, ever skip the siftin...}

and above all other bread, i LOVE dad’s bread….sourdough, yeast-rise, homemade pizza dough, cinnamon rolls, buttermilk biscuits, and holy-moly-the-best-crispy-southern-style-cast-iron-skillet cornbread you’ve ever had in yer life.

{cuttin' in the butter...yes y'all, real bonafide BuTTER.}

{gettin the key ingredient ready...a little for the batter and then a little in the cup for dad to drink}

and now the next to the best part…

{dad workin his culinary magic...}

{pattin' out the always makes what's known as 'cat head' biscuits (as opposed to rollin 'em out and using a biscuit cutter)}

dad treats his cast-iron cookware like fine china…seasons them with care and NevER, eVER washes ‘em…they just get better with age.

{be the biscuit....}

oh baby…

{at this point in the process, i'm not sure it's humanly possible to wait the 15 minutes of baking time...cruel and unusual punishment}

i paced. i stalked the oven. i begged and pleaded for mercy…and then after what seem like forevER…

{heaven...come to mama...}

eat a few with nothin but butter…and then a few with our 2 favorite accessories…

{grandma's molasses...oh my good gosh...}

and a little of this…

{SaRABEth'S spreadable fruit...made in the BronX...but we won't hold that against 'em}

you’ll think you died and went to bread heaven.

{can i get a hallelujah and an AMeN?!}

 and because we consider our BuTTERMiLK biscuits a spiritual kind of experience, we decided to honor them with a shirt

{GoD bLEss BuTTERMiLK biscuits!!}

 and we figured it was only right to pass along this family recipe…but remember, perfect biscuits come from practice… and learning how the dough feels in your hands.

we call it SOuL food because not only does this kind of food feed yer soul…but you gotta HAVE soul. YoU gotta FEEL the dough. and LeT IT feed YOUR SouL.

or for those that want to take a lil’ shortcut….CLiCK HERE to whip up a quick batch in yo kitchen!!!

May 12, 2010   34 Comments