Coastal Kitchen

A Nantucket kitchen is not a showpiece. It is small, usually white, with a checkerboard floor that has seen a hundred summers of sandy feet, a soapstone counter worn along the edge by the sink, and one window over the basin that looks out at either a hydrangea hedge or a piece of the harbor. The cabinets are open, or nearly, so the pretty things — the enamel canisters, the ironstone pitchers, the row of blue-and-white teacups — do the decorating.

The pieces in this collection are the small ones that make the room. A whistling kettle on the back burner because the electric kind will not do. A hand-painted cookie jar because the children will remember it. A striped tea towel slung over the oven handle. A hutch or a buffet against one wall to hold the platters that will not fit in the cupboards. A row of canisters, mismatched on purpose, holding flour and sugar and the good coffee.

Everything in a coastal kitchen should look like it has a job and does it well. Nothing decorative-only, nothing that has to be put away for company. The whole point of the room is that company walks straight in, pours themselves a coffee from the pot that's already on, and stays for two hours. The kettle keeps whistling.