My beloved cooking clogs are also known as my clown shoes or my Ronald McDonald shoes…and when they make an appearance, everyone knows that there is serious kitchen time involved!
There is a reason my dream kitchen has a cork floor. I have spent the last ten years in kitchens with tile floors and it was after a marathon session years ago with the Silver Palate’s Vegetable Terrine (amazing dish but I only make it every 8 – 10 years because that’s how long it takes me to forget the effort that goes into it…) that I realized I needed something to cushion the long hours standing.
I love my clogs: I wasn’t consciously searching them out but came across them in a post-lunch wander with my dear friend, Sara, in Roncesvalles (a great Toronto neighbourhood). I saw them and knew I had to have them…nor just for the comfort but also for the lovely red patent; they make me smile every time I look down and see them on my feet. And we have spent many many hours together cooking and canning (put up 20 lbs of tomatoes yesterday…about a four hour process that I only do every two years).
So here’s my question: if I cover them with sequins and click my heels together three times and wish hard enough, do I end up at the CIA in Napa?