Back from a Renovation Break

Hello world. We wanted to let you know that we’re not dead. This past holiday season brought a last-minute escape to Buenos Aires, Argentina and Montevideo, Uruguay to “renovate” our spirits.

Travel, along with a much-needed break from the daily grind brings us back feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the new year with gusto.

For now, we leave you with a couple teaser images of what’s to come:

1) After days of toiling in the sun, our garden finally takes shape with partially completed brick paving!

2) We didn’t think the day would ever come, but our kitchen actually arrives (well, 1/3 of it - just enough to make a mess), poco a poco!

Reunited and It Feels So Good

The thing about restoration is that you can spend a great deal of time and money to repair something that ends up looking the same once you’re done. Is this good?  Should one be happy that the job was so “perfect”, or feel deflated that after all the work, you are back where you started. Such was the conundrum of our tejaban.

Six months ago, the old tejaban covering the space designated for our kitchen was dismantled. Although it looked great, it was rotten to its core and had to be reconstructed. The old wood came down, tiles were stored and our kitchen was left open to the elements. Last week, the tejaban came back.

New beams of machiche - a native hardwood - were laid from north to south, matching the original slope of the kitchen.

Primed and treated for termites at our carpenter’s workshop before arriving onsite, each beam was positioned above the kitchen. Hard to reach areas were hand painted before a paint gun was used to turn each beam blue.

To prevent the exposed beams from warping in the harsh tropical sun and heavy afternoon rains, a tarp was laid across the top of the freshly painted beams.

Despite the tarp, the beams still warped. In the photo below you can see the bowed ends hanging over the south end of the kitchen. We were a little worried as some of them were as bent as bananas; not a good look for our tejaban. 

We shouldn’t have stressed as our carpenters had things under control. Once all the main supports were laid, they pulled the beams back in line with a wooden brace and secured them in place using cross supports and nails.

Once all the cross members were up, everything was straight again!

Finally, after a week of work, the old tiles were brought back to site and relaid onto the new structure.

The ragged ends of the beams were cut at an angle to expose a little of the machiche hardwood beneath. These ends will be sealed with polyurethane so that a little of the wood can peak out from beneath the blue paint.

After six months, six grand and a few weeks of labor, we are reunited with our tejaban and it’s just like before. Is this good? You betcha! Although it would’ve been nice to design something amazing and new, restoring something to its original state is great too - especially when it’s so good you forget it was ever anything but.

Meanwhile, at the Carpinteria…

When designing the kitchen, we always felt like the cabinetry had to be wood.

After flirting with tzalam, (and buying a stack of wood we’ll now have to use elsewhere) we changed our minds and went with pucte. It’s lighter in color and the fact that it’s easier to work made it the superior choice for our needs.

The big question, however, was what to use for the counter tops? This was solved when we stumbled upon a number of old salvaged beams made from jabim wood. Being over 100 years old and so dry there is no possibility for any movement or splitting, it was the perfect choice.

Our carpenter was both thrilled and cautious. Transforming a ragged stack of beams into a flat counter top measuring 3 x 1.2 meters is no mean feat. After acquiring some shiny new equipment to work on these old giants, she was ready to go.

First, each beam was squared up with a large planer before being cut into four planks, five centimeters (2 inches) thick.

Although most of the nails and other metal bits were pried off in advance, our carpenter advised that the beams were so old, they may have “swallowed” a nail or two. Striking one with the saw blade while cutting would break the blade and cost us 500 pesos each time. Luckily, we only struck one.

Once cut, the wood was laid out into a rough approximation of the final shape. We opted for an irregular pattern, with some boards longer or thinner than others. As well as achieving a more organic look, not cutting the beams into even sized planks allowed us to minimize the amount of wastage.

Planks with rotten sections or large gashes were designated for areas where they would eventually be cut out to make way for the drop-in cook top and sink.

Next, the wood was joined. Thin strips of wood were cut and inserted (with glue) into the ends and sides of each plank to join it to its neighbor.

Each plank was so large and heavy that clamping them together with traditional G-clamps while the glue dried was impossible. Instead, the counter top was built on its side, each board sitting atop the next, allowing gravity to naturally compress the planks together.

Once the glue was dry, the ends were trimmed to the right size and holes were cut for the sink and cook tops. Large holes were plugged with wood off cuts. Minor holes and spaces along the seams were filled with a putty made from a mix of glue and sawdust created during production.

After a serious sanding, the counter top is largely complete. It’s taken two months to get to this point, but we couldn’t be happier. Being so old and partially petrified, the wood was like rock and work was arduous. Our carpenter is relieved it’s done. At least until we reminded her of the cabinetry work still remaining.

We Got Tile!

A few days before leaving for vacation, we took a walk to a fantastic second-hand vendor called Antiguedades: El Mamey (located near San Sebastian on the corner of Calles 75 and 72). Impressively stocked, the place is a ramshackled treasure trove of furniture, old stone and building materials from Mérida’s colonial past. Always keen for a look, we fell in love with a stack of reclaimed terracotta tiles, probably manufactured a century or so ago in Marseilles, France.

As with many building materials used in houses of the time, these tiles were employed as ballast on ships sailing to Mérida as part of the international henequen trade. Upon arrival, the ballast (our fantastic tile) was generally dumped at the port before being salvaged for use in the city’s colonial building trade.

We have been hoping to reclaim old tiles for our house, but never did we image we would hit the jackpot. After a few hours picking through the large stack for the choice tiles, we had 1200 - enough for our kitchen floor.

Each tile has a rough, slightly-chipped patina on them that will make for a textured, non-slip surface underfoot. Reflecting the terracotta roof tiles overhead in our kitchen (also from the same company in Marseilles), our kitchen should take on a lot of character when completed.

Being reclaimed, the tiles are covered in mortar, which means we have many days of cleaning them up ahead of us. Lucky for us, the mortar is rich with lime, so a simple acid wash will do most of the grunt work for us.

Cooking Al Fresco

Last year, having just moved into our “ruin of a house” for a few months (see here, here and here), we stupidly decided to inaugurate our makeshift kitchen by making some carnitas. It was over 100 degrees outside, and after three hours of boiling, the kitchen felt like a sauna gone wild - and it was only April.

After a few experiences like this, we became resolved to move everything in the kitchen that produced heat, outside. Enter the outdoor kitchen.

What did we want our outdoor kitchen to have? A large Argentinean-style charcoal grill for steaks, two gas burners for slow braises that won’t heat up the kitchen and an oven for all that baking. Ample counter space for prepping and a sink for washing hands, chopping boards, etc. were also on the list.

Our checklist complete, we placed the outdoor kitchen just off the main kitchen opposite the formal dining table. We thought this would be a great way to connect the person boiling carnitas (that would be Brent) with the people sitting around the dining table drinking cocktails (that would be Stan and guests).

As the plan progressed, however, we found that having one person inside the screen doors and one person outside didn’t seem very conducive to entertaining. We also found that when not cooking, the rather large outdoor kitchen took up a lot of precious garden space in our courtyard. Instead of gazing over at lush plants, you would instead see a dusty counter top and a soot-stained barbecue. It just wasn’t right.

Time for a rethink. We know what we want, but what do we actually need? We can do most of our prep inside, so we could probably cope with less counter space. And how much baking do we really do? Perhaps we could usher the oven back inside. As for the sink, it’s a nice thing to have, but it doesn’t have to sit so prominently in the space.

Above is the latest iteration. Instead of sitting north of the kitchen building in the central courtyard, it resides in our rear garden to the south - conveniently in the space designated for our kitchen garden. Its new location allows it to be shared with gardening and other services, thus saving precious space.

Like the theme we are using in our kitchen, we have re-conceived the cook top as a stand-alone piece of furniture. When not in use, it will fold up and look like a work table in the garden. We have basically the same equipment, but it now blends much better with the garden and will be cheaper to construct (as we near the start of construction, trimming the budget is a recurring theme).

We’ve also added a sink to our service building out back (the white building on the right). Not only does it allow access to water when cooking outside, but it does double duty as a sink for gardening and other such activities.

All in all, we like our new design. We get to cook outside and in the garden. It’s really all we ever wanted.

Kitchen Craft

We are aiming to build a clean, welcoming kitchen that feels rustic and homely - a relaxed kitchen that is as much for living and entertaining as it is for cooking.  If not too stymied by cost, we aim to achieve this vision through the use of steel, lightly varnished wood and local limestone.

Similar to the b2 kitchen system from Bulthaup pictured below, we are treating our kitchen cabinets like furniture in order to create a space that feels more like a living or dining room than a kitchen.  We’ve decided to avoid placing cabinets above counter height and to fashion those we do have as modified credenzas. By lifting the cabinetry off the ground, we can also mitigate the numbers of rodents and cockroaches that nest in dark unreachable places.

System b2 from Bulthaup

Our fridge and pantry will be contained in a single wooden cabinet that we are designing to look a bit like a standalone armoire. We have the basic concept down and are now focused on massaging the details (who knew designing door handles was such a tedious task) and fine-tuning the overall look of our pantry unit.

Northwest perspective of our kitchen

As for sitting and socializing, a table and bench seat along one wall will give us a place to flesh out recipes and sip on a glass of wine without getting in the way of any dinner preparations.

Southeast perspective of our kitchen

There is still lots to do.  We’re not yet happy with the placeholder door handles we’ve inserted in the renders above, and have no idea where the compost bucket will go.  But all-in-all, we’re on the right track and can now put this aside for a bit while we tackle the bedrooms.

Scouring the Pantry for Ideas

The new year brings thoughts of our kitchen. With a high-sloped ceiling and original french terracotta tile roof, our kitchen is a bit rustic and charming. The question we are currently wrestling with is how to design a kitchen that fits the existing character of the room while blending well with the rest of the house.

First step - look for inspiration. One obvious idea is a hacienda-style kitchen typical of the grand houses built a few hundred years ago. Used predominantly by servants, in a time before running water and microwave ovens, these kitchens functioned very differently to the way we cook today.

This, of course, should not hold us back. Couldn’t we adapt this style to our modern life? Certainly plenty of people have.

The kitchen at Los Dos cooking school in Mérida

For us, the problem with such kitchens is that they are re-creationist dreams. Dressed up with intricate Puebla tile (thanks Frida Kahlo), ornate extractor fans and polished copper pots dangling from the ceiling, these kitchens are dramatic set pieces. Dressed up to woo guests with high drama, they create the fantasy of a hacienda lifestyle. A lifestyle of what - a rich servant perhaps?

Granted, there are many examples of such kitchens that look great and work well. It is, however, not the right idea for our stripped down, relaxed minimalist design ethic. We spend a lot of time in our kitchen and need a functional space to whip up a nice meal while remaining relaxed enough to suit our hideaway aesthetic.

We also want a space that won’t drive us mad with ornateness. Maybe we should consider a modern gourmet kitchen with clean lines and plenty of counter space?

This sleek gourmet kitchen screams modern minimalism and we love it. Although we’ve dreamed of hiring the designers at Boffi to bless our kitchen with their products (and pay an arm and a leg in the process), we know in the end this style of kitchen is simply wrong for our house. With its sleek lines and 21st-Century materials, this kitchen is anything but rustic. It would, in the end, sit uncomfortably in our house, scoffing at our old-world terracotta tiles.

Our kitchen is rustic and we need to respect that. At the same time, our house is modern and minimalist, so we need a kitchen that reflects that as well. So perhaps it’s time for some modern rustic inspiration?

A kitchen in Perigord Nord, France by Greet and Armand

This kitchen represents where we’re heading. It’s relaxed and clean with a whiff of rustic. The open shelving and lack of high cabinets give it a relaxed, livable feeling. The lightly varnished wood and stone floor evoke the idea of a slower time without being specific. The cabinetry feels like furniture, equally at home in a dining room and the kitchen. It is in such a space that we imagine ourselves comfortably passing the time of day.