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…
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 78 Comments
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!
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…
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.
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.
and now the next to the best part…
dad treats his cast-iron cookware like fine china…seasons them with care and NevER, eVER washes ‘em…they just get better with age.
you’ll think you died and went to bread heaven.
and because we consider our BuTTERMiLK biscuits a spiritual kind of experience, we decided to honor them with a shirt…
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.
May 12, 2010 24 Comments