So my dear husband, ever the problem-solving hero to my damsel-in-distress, came to my rescue on my birthday in 2008 by giving me one of these:
http://www.amazon.com/Berard-Olive-Keeper-Hinged-diameter/dp/B0018O9DDC
I was horrified.
Not only did it not strike me as distinctly modern--more transitional, and I could go on for hours about why that's not good enough--he paid fifty bucks for it from Williams-Sonoma. He had shown it to me in the catalog months before and I'd grimaced, I thought, at the very idea. I must have been too nice. Looking back, I probably thought that nixing it on the basis of price alone was sufficient and spared his feelings by not pronouncing it ugly, too.
Well let that be a lesson for I now owned one pricey, ugly little bitch of a salt cellar. That would not break. Ever. Resigned, I filled it up and set it by the stove. The stove in the old kitchen, btw, pre-remodel.
[TWO YEARS PASS]
Oh how I love my little salt cellar! I can pick it up in either hand, open the lid wide and either dip with two fingers for just enough salt for a potion or, one-handed, shove the little lid with my thumb back just far enough to create a small smile-sized opening from which I can shake salt evenly over the food I'm preparing. The rounded bottom causes it to fit snugly and securely into my hand. When we moved into the new kitchen, I placed it on the prep counter. Eventually, I realized I should have a salt supply at the stove too and so I put a jar there, but darn if I don't ignore the jar and move my beloved little salt cellar back and forth, meaning that half the time it's not where I am and need it to be. So what did I do?
I ordered a second one! And I searched all over the internet for a better price than Bob paid from the rapists at William Sonoma but to no avail. You want one? Fork over the big five-oh because no one has them cheaper. So, expensive? Yes, but indispensable. And they'll last forever, thank god.
Oh, and I no longer regard them as ugly. More like homely-cute.
