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My pastry tools just grew and grew. They started in a case the opposite side of the kitchen which I kept dropping on the floor. Finally, I realised I had to have something large, under my main work surface. The pastry table followed later.

I had two lucky accidents with the drawer front. First, I found an overlooked poplar board I must have kept for twenty years, presumably because it had some (rare for poplar) fine heartwood markings. I bevelled and domed it, but it needed a surround.

I was whipping through stacks of hardwood at the lumber merchant trying to find something interesting. By the time I was discarding boards of Spanish Cedar, a respectable wood but with no great distinction, Rosalind called: she had found a quite exceptional piece, which I (the professional) had missed. We bought it. Of Rosalind’s many talents, none is wood. However, she, not I, spotted the magnificent piece of Douglas Fir (just visible bottom left between two black mouldings) which became the threshold from the kitchen to the porch.

My second portfolio