Ask anyone worthy of the title of herbalist to vote on most drool worthy cinematic kitchen, and we’ll all chime in with the same answer. Did you like how I did that? Yeah, so I’m no herbalist. True, I did recently locate my copy of Odena’s Texas Herb Book from Odena Brannam’s Lavender Hill Herb Farm in Pleasant Grove. If you weren’t fortunate enough to accidentally trip upon Ms. Brannam’s home on Quinn Drive in the early 90’s, you really missed a whole mood. From the surprise appearances of her hilariously witty septuagenarian roommate/brother, Audrey, to a passel of odd stray cats, to a black snake deemed both welcome and friendly, all sorts of crazy things happened on the farm with its front room serving as equal parts cash register and apothecary. Like I said, it was a whole mood. But, we’ll devote another column on another day to Odena’s place. We’re here to talk about dream kitchens for those of us who love random tree branches resting on upper cabinets where bundles of herbs and roses hang to dry. Because, if you know your way around a good peppermint tincture and your favorite doctor is named Bombay, there’s only one kitchen you want to stock with your limes to put in your coconuts. It’s gotta be the kitchen from the iconic Practical Magic house.
On the northern boundary of Puget Sound, 30 miles north of Seattle on Whidbey Island, there lies a cute little city named Coupeville. Whidbey Island is no stranger to Hollywood. The stunning scenery has been featured in some really prominent movies, like The War of the Roses, The Ring, parts of the Free Willy franchise, and the beautiful yet controversial Snow Falling on Cedars. And, yes, when Griffin Dunne was looking for a locale to film the adaptation of Alice Hoffman’s book, Practical Magic, he rapped assuredly on Coupeville’s front door. While Hoffman’s book is set off the coast of Massachusetts, Dunne found it easier to mimic the look while staying on the same coast as the set lots. That’s right, the movie was filmed on a Hollywood set. But, those exterior shots were other worldly. Surely the sets were modeled after the rooms in that gorgeous Victorian home? Rumor has it, when Barbara Streisand saw the movie, she had her people call the house’s people. She wanted to buy it, stat. Sorry, Babs, that house was an expertly built shell, fish scaled with shake shingles & ornate carvings, but as empty as a Chardonnay bottle on a summer night’s Shakespeare festival. At first glance, this info made me sad. My whole kitchen coveting life has been a lie! Say it ain’t so! But, when you think about it, if Odena Brannam could relocate an entire herb farm from Ladonia, TX, just south of the Red River, all the way out to South Dallas and still have a successful business, which she did, I can’t let a silly thing like a fake kitchen stop me.
The ceiling was covered in centuries old oak beams, surely darkened from some 1700s era massive hearth that now houses a cream-colored AGA range that costs more than any car I’ve ever owned. The cabinets are an off-white color, no doubt originally stark white paint that gently yellowed after lifetimes of distillation caused from boiling all the eyes of the newts and whatnot. Next, there are miles and miles of creamy subway tiles as far as the eye can see. An adjacent wall houses a farm sink that was cool before farm sinks were a thing. Next comes the shaker cabinet fronts with the unfitted furniture style leg and the upper doors with the old, wavy glass, and the massive built in plate racks. All of this majesty sits atop a dark, matte wood floor that bears an uncanny resemblance to the floors in noted Salem, Mass houses. That leads us to the kitchen extension extraordinaire where, at any moment, Miss Scarlet really could jump out and whack someone with a candlestick. It’s the conservatory with ochre tinted leaded glass windows and more cloches than Hobby Lobby would know what to do with. It’s weedy and herby and rose petal-y, and totally amazing. Take a deep breath. Does it smell like cloves and basil and patchouli and dead leaves? Good, welcome to the inside of my brain.
The world can be an ugly place. It has become increasingly difficult to line up our expectations with our realities. Heck, my own image in the mirror just doesn’t match up to what I want to see. Waylon and Willie warned us about keeping up with the Joneses, who are now in our face 24/7 thanks to social media. Our mental must have lists include things like the perfect house, perfect hair, perfect car, perfect circle of friends, perfect kids, perfect pets. Some days we look up and realize, it’s all a shell. None of it is real. That’s ok. Images are just that, pictures of other people’s expectations. The realness lies in how something makes you feel. Maybe we don’t need the AGA range. Maybe we just need the cloves and a pinch of basil, or a lime and a coconut. Life isn’t a Hollywood set, after all. It’s a South Dallas herb farm with a pet black snake and a witty older brother. Life is a whole mood, kitchen not included.
- Log in or Subscribe to post comments.