Scannapieco Development Corporation hosted a model home groundbreaking ceremony April 18 for The Residences at Rabbit Run Creek, a gated community comprised of 37 townhomes situated on 20 acres in New Hope Borough. The model is expected to be open by early fall. Pictured, from left: architect Sang-Yee Rummler, New Hope Borough Council President Bill Scandone, Keith Boyd, Tom Scannapieco, New Hope Mayor Larry Keller, Phil Jackson and Tim Hampton.
It’s time to start embracing who you are. That doesn’t mean acting your age, though.
By David J. Witchell
The news of Scott Kelly’s return to Earth this winter, after more than a year in space, as a taller and younger man than when he hurled himself into it got me thinking about zero gravity. Specifically, where could I find me some?
Designing appearances is what I’ve come to be known for. And as I approach 50, I’m beginning to appreciate its value in a barrage of new, personal ways. I’m not a fountain of youth, far from it, but I know what it means to help someone look as young as he or she feels.
I’m inspired by social influences, but I’ve never tried to be trendy. Simplicity tends to get drowned out by those looks, but it’s never done me wrong. If you’re hunting for a fresher hairstyle for the summer, start there and then follow these other principles.
Time is of the essence There’s nothing wrong cherry-picking ideas from an issue of Us Weekly, but know that every one of those women has a full-time stylist at her disposal. Bottom line: If you don’t have the time and resources to maintain a hairstyle, it’s not right for you.
Time is of the essence, part two In that vein, coloring does not come cheap. And it definitely does not come from a grocery store aisle. Most of my time in the salon these days—too much of it, really—is spent undoing the evils of home coloring kits. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t go blonde. What I’m saying is that there’s an appropriate shade of blonde (and brunette, and red) for everyone, and it needs to be determined and applied by a professional. If you can’t devote the necessary time and money, it’s not right for you.
Work with what you’ve got Faces, to me, are either triangles or squares, and both are attractive in their own ways. But I know a lot of you think that everything pales in comparison to the ever-elusive oval. The sooner you embrace the shape of your face, the better this will go for you. Then, your stylist will be able to complement your shape, which will draw everything into balance.
But don’t accept everything Youth is not exuded by a certain style. It’s exuded by your hair’s texture. Young-looking hair is supple, it’s dense, it’s vibrant and it shimmers. All of these qualities diminish with age, but that can be slowed, if not outright halted, with the right products. The controversy surrounding keratin-based treatments may forever swirl, but I’m a believer. I’ve seen them restore beyond repair-hair again and again.
But before that part, you need to take another honest look at yourself and determine whether your lifestyle is accelerating that decline. If you’re overly stressed, not eating healthy, or there’s an underlying health issue, no amount of product’s going to offset the damage. Get a blood test—seriously. In my experience, the culprit’s most often a basic nutrient deficiency. And then you can walk out of the salon feeling as good as you look.
It’s no small concession that my burr grinder and French press reside on the kitchen counter. My wife takes the rather hard line that the counter and the island are for food prep, not storage. She relented only because she realized the longer I go without coffee, the worse the morning goes for both of us. The summer’s another exception. Any day now, our garden (her garden, really) is going to start spewing cucumbers and jalapenos faster than we can pickle them. And the onslaught’s going to remain pretty steady through the last tomato and ear of corn in September. All the while, the fridge and counters are overflowing. The best we could ever hope for was to keep the piles separate. Until this summer. Turns out, we can store our fruits and veg and show them off, too. The handcrafted “garden-to-tableware” collection by Heirloom Home and Studio, in Glenside, is modeled after those familiar paper farmers market containers. Only these are made out of porcelain, so they’re sturdy as hell. And a significant upgrade from the mismatched plates, bowls and Tupperware we’ve been using—and trying to hide. Now we’ll be basking in our bounty, even if it’s still in the way. —Scott Edwards
Heirloom Home and Studio, 2227 Mt. Carmel Avenue, Glenside.
The present has a hard time holding our attention anymore. We live in a click-and-swipe culture. If you don’t like what you see, move on to the next page. There’s a price to pay for that, of course: never truly appreciating what we have. But the challenge to stay on top—and, for the most ambitious among us, ahead—of it all tends to run right over those concerns. Because we’re in the business of stoking that very fire, we asked around to find out what we’ll be pining for next. Here’s what we heard back.
“Ceramics are becoming more accessible. Lauren Mabry, her pieces, for being fine artwork, are not ridiculously expensive. And they’re beautiful. She really thinks of her ceramics as paintings. Roberto Lugo tells the story of his life through his ceramics. They’re functional pieces—teapots, jars—but they’re fine artwork. Edgewood Made is very simplistic, functional, but also high design.” Rachel Zimmerman
“Small spaces that live large. People are obsessed with this concept lately. Everyone wants to streamline, from empty nesters to student loan-burdened millennials, in no small part because efficiency no longer means cramped. More thoughtful designs, like floor-to-ceiling windows and vaulted ceilings painted white, can make a space feel much larger than it is.” Lisa Furey
“We’re seeing a desire to create a sense of place through sustainable landscapes. We’re always considering the existing framework of a site, public or private, so that we can incorporate the natural elements as organically as possible. And we’re collaborating with local fabricators and artisans. It’s just as important to us that the fiber of the community be represented in our designs.” David Fierabend
“We’re selling oil paintings that are painted on reclaimed metal. They range in size from four feet by five feet to six by eight. The more oversized, the faster they go. Same for another collection of simple phrases, like “I Love Us,” painted on five foot-tall canvases. The more white space, the more versatile they are.” Tracey and Rod Berkowitz
“There’s now so much access to the digital world that people are becoming desensitized and the focus is shifting to creating what’s not readily available on the Internet. I’ve been featuring a lot of bespoke furniture in my designs. It’s specific to someone and it’s an instant heirloom.” Michele Plachter
“My weakness is vintage ephemera and really unique collectibles. In such a digitally driven world, I love incorporating maps, globes, antique books, prints, photographs and postcards into my home. They’re so tangible. And they speak of another time completely. I love to imagine the stories behind them. Having these things in my home brings a warmth that you just don’t get from an imported knickknack. My new favorite resource for such things is the N3rd Collective, in Old City, which is comprised of Hoof & Antler, freshvintage and Scout Salvage & Vintage Rescue, all longtime Clover vendors.” Janet Long
“More artists are experimenting with side collections, taking the skills that they have and creating a business. You’re still buying something that’s fine art as long as it’s treated in a way and editioned in a way that it’s still considered fine art, but it may not be at the same price point.” Rachel Zimmerman
“Pinot noir has been popular for a while now—since Sideways, at least—but lately I’ve struggled to keep it in stock. The New York Times featured Oregon pinot back in early January, which seemed to trigger a renewed interest in all regions.” Adam Junkins
“Materials are changing a lot. Lyn Godley, for example, is using fiber optics. They’re photographs that are printed and then hand-colored, and then they’re embedded with fiber optics. So the light is really subtle, and it adds dimensionality to the piece.” Rachel Zimmerman
“The craft beer crowd has been pushing for higher alcohol content-brews for the last few years, but the trend seems to be reversing. Interest is gaining by the week in the more easy-drinking ‘session beers.’ They’re lower in alcohol but every bit as flavorful, if not more so, than the stronger beers.” Adam Junkins
“We’re drawn, right now, to industrial pieces from England, France and Belgium as much for the quality as their look. In particular, we can’t keep ‘crank tables’ in the store. (They’re tables with industrial bases and manually-adjustable table heights.) For good reason; they’re great looking and crazy-versatile. We’ve also been bringing in a lot more unusual upholstered pieces as of late—midcentury with a bit of a twist. We have an amazing wing/egg chair in the store that’s half leather, half quilted linen. And, oversized, dramatic lighting—imagine a huge glass chandelier over a crank table.” Tracey and Rod Berkowitz
“Lately, we’ve been doing all kinds of fermentation and preserving. We’ve been routinely making crème fraîche, kimchi and yogurt for sometime now. But we began playing with those concepts in different ways that fall well outside the norm, like fruit kimchi, which could offer an entirely different way to approach the condiment, potentially as a dessert. We’re also tinkering with using fermentation and yeasts as flavoring components. Curing has become a standard for many things here. Lardo, bacon, venison, egg yolks and various cabbages and fruits are curing at any given time. We’ve always loved making cured egg yolks, which have an amazing, cheese-like consistency. But now we’re looking into how we can safely and usefully ferment them over a longer period of time.” Andrew Kochan
“The ceiling has officially come off the craft cocktail movement. There are so many resources available anymore, between books and sites, that almost anything is possible. Barrel-aged coffee-pecan bitters, you think, would really elevate your go-to whiskey cocktail. Chances are, someone else had the same thought, or one close enough to it. Hop online, and within a few clicks you’ll find a barrel and a recipe.” Adam Junkins
“There’s a blending of the science and art worlds. A lot of jewelry now is 3D-casted, and I think that’s benefitted both the artist and the collector. It allows someone like Doug Bucci to do more pieces at a time because there’s not as much handwork involved, which, in turn, lowers the price.” Rachel Zimmerman
“Moroccan pillows and throws with lots of interesting patterns and textures can create a beautiful juxtaposition with simple accessories.” Tracey and Rod Berkowitz
[divider]Our Experts[/divider]
Rachel Zimmerman is the founder and director of InLiquid Art & Design, a nonprofit hub for close to 300 visual artists in and around Philly. Come June, it’ll host the wildly popular Art for the Cash Poor sale, where budding collectors can stock up on pieces priced under 200 bucks.
David Fierabend is the owner and lead landscape architect with the Hopewell, New Jersey-based Groundswell Design Group, which has been busy (a severe understatement) greening up all corners of the city, between the Spruce Street Harbor Park, beer gardens in Center City and the forthcoming Pearl Street art initiative.
Lisa Furey is the owner and designer of Barefoot Interiors, in Bala Cynwyd. She was featured last year by HGTV as part of its “Fresh Faces of Design” portfolio in recognition of a 690-square foot, farmhouse-style cottage she designed in South Carolina’s Low Country.
Michele Plachter is the owner and designer of Michele Plachter Design, in Center City. She specializes in modernizing residential interiors. Her influence reaches from Washington Square to Villanova, Mount Airy to Newtown Square.
Adam Junkins is our resident mixologist. He’s also a partner and the sommelier at Sovana Bistro in Kennett Square.
Andrew Kochan is a co-owner and -executive chef of University City’s Marigold Kitchen, which consistently proves itself to be one of the most forward-thinking (and secretive) kitchens around. It currently holds down the 14-spot in Philadelphia magazine’s compilation of the 50 best restaurants in the city.
Janet Long is the founder and director of The Clover Market, which has become the launching pad for every indie home goods and accessories label across the region. She’s so beloved that even after the designers establish themselves, they continue to show at Clover.
Tracey and Rod Berkowitz are the owners (and scavengers) of the always-inventive vintage home goods store zinc home + garden, in Lambertville, NJ. They have an uncanny knack for reimagining decades-old industrial fixtures as the touchstones of a modern home.
Photo: Composition of enclosed cylinders,” 2015, by Lauren Mabry. Photo courtesy of Lauren Mabry
Nothing’s ever going to make spring cleaning enjoyable. But it’s a lot less daunting when it doesn’t loom over you like one giant, weekend-sucking chore.
By Laurie Palau
Spring. (Yay!) Cleaning. (Ugh.)
The weather outside is so inviting. Yet, standing at that window, I’m filled with dread, because I know what awaits me when I turn around. The remnants of our months-long hibernation. It’s gotta be dealt with, no way around it. After all, the only thing worse than spring cleaning is summer cleaning.
My game plan is to break the house down into four zones—the kitchen, the closets, the bathrooms and the garage—and to deal with each one a weekend at a time. What?! you’re probably thinking. It’s bad enough losing one weekend to this, and now you want me to turn over a month’s worth? We’re looking at a couple of hours, tops, over each one of those weekends. Isn’t that more digestible than a 48-hour cleaning slog? And let’s be honest; most of that time was going to be spent procrastinating.
What follows is a checklist for each zone. Efficiency, baby!
Weekend No. 1 The Kitchen
Clean out the pantry and fridge. Dispose of the expired food, along with the questionable stuff. Spices, too. They’re only good for a year. Wipe down every surface, and don’t forget the crisper.
Sort through the Tupperware. Winter is prime time for collecting takeout containers. Toss any bottom that doesn’t have a matching top.
Streamline the gadget drawer. Anything that hasn’t been used in the last six months, donate. And pare down multiples (spatulas, wooden spoons, peelers) to no more than three.
And the junk drawer, while you’re at it. Everything that’s broken (dried-out pens) or serves no obvious purpose (random keys, a four-month-old receipt from Whole Foods), toss. Then group the remaining items together by like.
Weekend No. 2The Closets
Ditch the dry cleaning bags and hang those clothes on regular hangers already. Those bags can suffocate a closet. Not to mention, they retain harsh chemicals.
Sort through all your clothing and accessories, including every last pair of shoes. This is no time to get sentimental. If it hasn’t been worn in the last six months, donate or consign it. Unless it’s torn or stained or stanky. Trash that stuff, obviously. Then organize your new pared-down wardrobe by type—casual, athletic, office-wear, formal—and color. It may seem a bit OCD, but it’ll make getting dressed so much easier.
Weekend No. 3The Bathrooms
Streamline your medicine cabinet and under the sink. Toss all the expired medications, along with every piece of makeup and hair and cleaning product that’s over a year old.
Give your sheets and towels the same treatment you did your Tupperware. Whittle your stockpile down to two (complete) sets of cotton sheets and one flannel set and two sets of towels for each full bathroom. Donate all the loose ends and overly worn pieces. (Animal shelters are always in need of towels and blankets.)
Weekend No. 4The Garage
Purge everything that’s expired, damaged or hasn’t been touched in over a year. (Your teenage son’s never gonna ride that scooter again.) The garage can become a dumping ground in the winter. If yours is serving as an extension of the kitchen pantry, move that stuff to your actual pantry. There should be plenty of room now.
Then, organize everything that’s left by like—yard supplies, sports gear, household tools—and arrange it by zones so that it stays organized beyond this weekend.
Consider yourself free to enjoy the great outdoors. And by that, I mean, of course, the lawn needs cutting and the flower beds are begging to be weeded.
Laurie Palau is the owner of the New Hope-based simply B organized, a home and life organization service.
A Hawaiian shirt does not make the tourist. A wrinkled shirt, of any kind, does.
By Laurie Palau
You plunked down a staggering deposit this winter to make sure that you’re exactly where you want to be when the time comes: In a palatial, beachfront house at the very height of summer. Five bedrooms, more than enough to sleep immediate family and your closest friends comfortably. A commercial kitchen, which is overkill, if we’re being honest. And a sprawling deck with an unobstructed view of the sparkling ocean, less-fortunate beachgoers aside. The thought of this week sustained you when your patience with Mother Nature waned in March.
And yet, you’re living like a coddled teen about three hangovers’ deep into senior week. How else do you explain the Fiat-size suitcase in the corner of the master bedroom that looks like it threw up all over itself?
Sure, there’s an art to packing. Anyone who’s spent even a single night away from home is well aware of that. But there’s an art to unpacking too. It may seem like a small thing, but, come Day Three, rooting around for a clean outfit to wear to a restaurant is going to start to grate on you—and even the coddled teen at senior week. So, here are a few moves that’ll keep you square in the lap of luxury.
First in, first out. Whether you keep them in a makeup bag, a dopp kit or even a Ziploc freezer bag, your toiletries should be the first things you stick in your suitcase and the first you pull out upon arrival, because they’re going to get the most use. And once your bathroom’s arranged to your liking, it’ll feel a little more like home. Which you’ll immediately appreciate when you try to brush your teeth after polishing off a couple bottles of wine at dinner.
Plug in, then unplug. The electronics are the next to go. Dig out your phone and tablet—if you brought any more than that, you should be ashamed of yourself—along with their respective charging cables, and plug them into an out-of-the-way outlet. (Read: anywhere you won’t trip over them.) They’ll be there, fully charged, when you need them. But you won’t.
Five minutes, if that. In the grand scheme, hanging our clothes or organizing them in dresser drawers is the blink of an eye. Still, on vacation, we resist it with all the fervor of a five-year-old forced into cleaning his room. I’ve seen people note the impressive capacity of hotel room closets and then never open them again. Unpacking should be that much easier, too, because you packed minimally—a few tops, a couple bottoms and pairs of shoes and a handful of accessories, all of which can be mixed. Once it’s all out, toss the suitcase in the closet as well. Out of sight, out of mind.
All trips must end. Whether I wore something or not, I’m washing everything when I get home. But that’s me. It doesn’t mean, though, that I’m using my empty suitcase as a hamper. I cannot stress this enough: Once sand gets into your suitcase, you will never get it completely out. Pack a garbage bag (or two), stuff it with your dirty laundry and keep it in the closet.
Laurie Palau is the owner of the New Hope-based simply B organized, a home and life organization service.
5 new-ish books you need to make sure to pack this summer.
Now that you’ve got some downtime in front of you—unplugged, ideally—consider catching up on your reading. There won’t be a test at the end of the summer, but you will be better off for it. It was a strong year for literature, especially fiction. Its most popular author returned after five long years, as did his fastest-rising challenger. The uncanny originality of their imagination is on full display. But, exotic as their stories may be, it’s the subtle intimacy of their writing that’ll envelop you and make you forget where you are. Which is the point of vacation, is it not? —Scott Edwards
Sprawling as it is meticulously detailed, Purity is, above all else, a coming-of-age story. Twentysomething Pip Tyler’s burdened with a dead-end job, $130,000 in student loans and a paranoid mother who’s clearly hiding something. When her patience finally begins to strain, Pip heads to South America to work for a sort of WikiLeaks organization in the hopes of learning what her mother won’t tell her. Intricately layered as his last novel, Purity never really comes together in the deeply satisfying ways that Freedom does. But the characters, each so conflicted and vulnerable, are what’ll compel you to keep reading. Their maturations are where the best parts of the story lie anyway.
Johnson’s collection of six short stories won the 2015 National Book Award for fiction. Like Franzen, Johnson’s narratives are character-driven. Also like Franzen, the nuance of their depictions forges instant, authentic compassion. In “Interesting Facts,” Johnson crafts an unflinchingly honest portrait of a cancer patient, made all the more remarkable by the fact that she’s a woman, with breast cancer, and a wife and a mother of three young children. She sizes up every woman she comes across by the size and shape of her breasts. And she tries to isolate herself as she can, all while she fears drifting out of reach of her family, thinking of them growing up and moving on.
Ronson’s made a career out of disarming the most feared among us, the extremists, the pyschopaths, the American military. Here, he turns the mirror on himself and us. He tracks down several infamous figures who misstepped on social media and were swiftly shamed into oblivion. It felt like the democratization of justice, but once Ronson starts revealing their shattered lives, it looks more like an angry mob. From there, he tries to get to the root of our need to shame. It may be manifesting now in the most modern of acts, but its history runs deep. Not surprisingly, the ability to do it immediately and anonymously, seems to only be making us, including Ronson himself, he realizes, less tolerable.
It’s been a long time since I considered breaking it off with a novel, but I considered it often with this one. The characters—all of them; not just the main ones—regress from unaffected to pretentious. But a funny thing happens when they scrape bottom midway through. The wallflower begins her slow, steady ascent. The voice shifts to hers, and the tone follows suit. Everyone is revealed, including her. But the more unflattering the light, the more inspiring she becomes. She’s a survivor, and with each new revelation that comes forth about her life, about their life, we realize the dramatic ways that perspective can distort reality.
Smith’s best-known for her 2000 debut novel, White Teeth. But I got to NW, her most recent book, first, and fell in love with her there. The true measure of an author for me is the dialogue. Does it maintain the narrative’s rhythm? Is it realistic? Some of the most revered books are ruined for me because of their stilted exchanges. No one before or since I came across Smith writes dialogue as well as she does. And in NW, it not only facilitates the story, which unfolds in the London neighborhood it’s named after, it drives it. Personalities and, eventually, motivations come together in short bursts of slang. You know, like life. With her next novel, Swing Time, due to publish in November, NW’s the perfect gateway to get hooked on one of the most human storytellers of our time.
We’re nominating the deviled egg as the quintessential picnic food. It defies logic, really. Eggs. Mayo. Suspect refrigeration. Yet they’re the first thing most of us reach for, whether it’s an intimate, blanket-top lunch or a crowded backyard barbeque. Even before the cocktail. Credit nostalgia. Every family has its time-honored recipes, but the deviled egg is the rare foodstuff that transcends personal history. We all seemed to grow up eating them by the handful. That creamy texture, the hint of heat—feels like home.
Recipes and photography by Yelena Strokin
The Deviled Egg Makes 12.
6 free-range eggs, hard-boiled and peeled Juice from a jar of pickled beets ¼ cup mayo 2 tsps. Dijon mustard Cilantro, minced (reserve some) Paprika to taste Salt and pepper to taste
Soak the eggs in the beet juice anywhere from a half-hour to overnight. If you like pickled foods, longer is better. After their bath, remove the eggs and cut them in half lengthwise, then gently remove the yolks and set them off to the side. In a small bowl, combine the yolks, mayo, mustard and cilantro. Season with salt and pepper. Stir until the mixture achieves a smooth consistency, then transfer it to a Ziploc bag. Cut off a bottom corner and pipe a bit of the yolk mixture into the hollow of each egg half. Sprinkle with paprika and garnish with cilantro or a small beet slice.
There’s good reason why the Brits continue to cling so fiercely to their high tea, and it’s not the tea. A socially acceptable excuse to break in the middle of the afternoon and scarf down pastries? Yeah, that’s worth protecting. Spare us the formality—we drink our coffee and tea in paper cups with plastic lids, thank you—but not the sugar rush. We may be new money, but we’re not animals.
The Victoria Sandwich Serves six to eight.
8 ounces unsalted butter, room temperature 4 free-range eggs, room temperature 1¼ cup sugar 1¾ cup self-rising flour 2 tsp. baking powder 1 tsp. vanilla extract Raspberry or strawberry jam 1 cup whipped cream Powdered sugar
Take the eggs out of the fridge about an hour before you plan to start. If they’re colder than room temperature, it’ll be harder for air to be whisked in, which will make the mixture more likely to curdle or separate. Likewise, the butter should sit out for a few minutes beforehand, too.
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. And grease two cake pans, then line the base of each with parchment paper. In a large bowl, whisk together the butter, eggs, sugar, flour, baking powder and vanilla extract until they’re thoroughly blended. Then divide the mixture evenly between the two cake pans and level them off.
Bake until the cakes rise and the tops spring back when pressed lightly with a finger, about 25 minutes. Then, let them cool for a few minutes. Remove them from the pans, peel off the parchment and move them to a wire rack to finish cooling.
Once the cakes have cooled completely, cut them in half, slather on some whipped cream and jam and put them back together. Sprinkle on a dusting of powdered sugar.
With the reemergence of a warm sun, my rosé fetish is back in full swing. There are a lot of preconceptions out there about rosé—it doesn’t pair well, it’s not especially masculine—but if you approach it with an open mind, you won’t be disappointed. I’d even venture to say it’s the most versatile wine out there, light enough for afternoon drinking on the patio but still a formidable companion for braised pork and grilled spring veggies. For the latter, try this Tavel. It’s darker and bolder than you’re thinking without forsaking that signature rosé crispness.
ADAM JUNKINS Partner/Sommelier Sovana Bistro
(Kennett Square)
He can be hard to warm up to. And his Lambertville, NJ, shop isn’t that fashionable. But you don’t have to be a furniture geek to appreciate his genius. By Scott Edwards · Photography by Josh DeHonney
The morning after Benjamin Albucker showed me around his Lambertville, New Jersey, shop, he sends me the following text:
scott during my rant I should have been clearer on my taste/merchandise. I primarily sell this: Organic Design EARLY Modern American Design, i.e. Early Herman Miller and Knoll California Modern Some radical Italian design 20th Century French Design Hardly seen industrial: much of which comes from a close friend Leanne Lipston (INDDESIGN)
Albucker, obviously, is as particular about his perception as he is with his tastes. After eight months, he still hasn’t named his shop. And without a name, there can be no Web site, of course. “Well, that’s just because I’m nuts,” he says. “I can’t come up with a name. I want a name. I want a Web site. But I need a name before I can do a Web site. I’m not doing that to be hip. It’s screwing me a little bit. Not being on the Internet, I’m doing a lot less business.”
What to make of a shop that’s such a pure reflection of its owner, and that guy, he readily admits, can be difficult to embrace.
“I don’t think it’s something you want to write about,” Albucker says, “but I think I alienate people because, not just the prices being expensive, but it’s so specific, from my point of view, that certain people, not so many of them around here, understand it.”
His demeanor, during the afternoon I spent with him at his North Union Street shop, is straightforward, unsentimental, almost challenging at times. I felt like he was observing and gauging me as much as I was him. It can come across as youthful arrogance—Albucker’s not yet 30—but I think it’s more the default stance of someone who’s accustomed to proving himself in a world where knowledge and savvy are all you have. Even stripped of that context, this is a space filled with Albucker’s most prized possessions. Reject them and you reject him.
Albucker claims to me that the only reading he does is in relation to furniture and designers. He’s being self-deprecating. He may present a little rough around the edges—on this day, he’s wearing a thick beard, a charcoal Baja pullover and a baseball hat that’s been on his head every day for the last couple of years—but an email exchange over the weeks leading up to the interview impressed me with his intelligence, maturity and articulation.
“I’ve amassed a good amount of knowledge over the last eight or nine years, since I started buying stuff for my father’s store,” Albucker says. His father is Stewart Ross, who owns Bucks County Dry Goods. His shop is a couple blocks across town, and there are others in Princeton, NJ, and Old City. It’s through his father that Albucker learned how to forage flea markets and developed his taste in art. And it was while working for him that he honed the concept for his own shop. “I might do two or three sales in a week. I might do no sales,” Albucker says. “Like, if I sold this desk, it would pay my rent. I want to see if I can do this and make a living and build a brand with only what I like. I guess I’m stubborn that way.”
We’re standing over Milo Baughman’s iconic scoop chair, crafted in salmon-colored naugahyde. There were several iterations made across a few decades in the middle part of the 20th century, but Albucker will only buy and sell the original design, with an iron leg, in this one color.
“People bring me stuff all the time, and nine out of 10 times, I don’t like it,” he says. “It’s not like I like midcentury modern. I just like certain pieces. It gets a little too fancy after a certain point. Like the Eames Fiberglass shells. I really only like them in gray and two or three other colors. I don’t like bright colors, usually. I like interesting objects. And I like humor.”
You wrote me, I say, “A little humor is important to me when done in a beautiful way.” The comment was made in reference to an antique porcelain bedpan and urinal that he had on display in the shop. In the bedpan, he arranged some fake apples. And he stuck some flowers in the urinal.
“I sold them to some architect for a lot of money. I guess he agreed with the humor in it,” he says. “And it looked good. I don’t just like funny, gross shit. I’m not sure whether I’ll buy any more of those, but I did it once and proved that I could sell it as something pretty.”
Albucker restores most of the things he sells himself. But only to an extent. Again straying from the majority rule, he prefers his midcentury modern with some patina. He devoted two years to restoring a dilapidated barn on his family’s property, across the river in Solebury, and converting it into his home. He has yet to move in. The project was put on hold when he moved into a co-op next to the Golden Nugget Antique & Flea Market, just south of town. Four months later, this store became available. For about a month, he was there renovating it until four in the morning, even installing the reclaimed, wide-plank floors himself.
We’re finishing up. A couple’s walked in and they need his attention. But first he turns and says, “This, I wanted to show you so you know.” It’s an Eames shell chair, which will always remind me of elementary school. Albucker flips it over and draws my attention to the rope that’s embedded in the Fiberglass along the edge. “They only did that for the first year.” Which means that the shells without the rope sells for a couple hundred bucks while the ones with it can fetch up to $1,500. Treasure hunting’s not my thing. I have a hard enough time picking up on the obvious, so I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with this knowledge. Nor does it really matter. More importantly, I feel like I’ve passed some kind of test.
[divider]The Sum of His Parts[/divider]
A portrait of Albucker, as depicted by a few of his most coveted things.
Bottle opener by the Werkstätte Carl Auböck (circa 1960s) | $325 Run by four generations of Carl Aubocks, the Vienna-based Aubock Workshop turns out some of the world’s most beautiful, handcrafted, small objects, mainly in horn, brass, leather, cane and wood. And they usually serve the most esoteric of uses.
Collection of 11 German monkey hand puppets | $2,200 Each is made from mohair and erected on a purpose-built stand. It’s the world’s only “chorus” of German monkey puppets.
Klockner roll-front, fire-safe cabinet (circa 1940s-1950s) | $3,500 Built in Buenos Aires, features 39 drawers, many tilting, and it’s crazy-heavy.
Wastepaper basket by Grethe Bang & Finn Juhl | $700 Simply a great design by the Danish master.
Sonambient tonal sculpture by Val Bertoia$5,000 A kinetic, musical and elegant sculpture by the son of the late sculptor and chair designer, Harry Bertoia.
Zenith Rope-edge Shell Chair by Charles and Ray Eames for Herman Miller (circa 1950 to 1953) | $3,200 An obscenely low shell chair in my favorite shade of Fiberglass. This is one of the rarest and earliest Eames shell chair configurations in existence. It could easily be argued that it belongs in a permanent collection somewhere.
Belt-driven aluminum bicycle (manufacturer unknown) | $2,200 I bought this from Leanne Lipston of INDDESIGN, the best picker/dealer of industrial artifacts and exquisite metal in the world. The form and material of this small bicycle make me smile. If I don’t sell it by July, it’ll be hanging above my bed.
Aluminum Coat Tree by Warren McArthur | $900 Collectors of McArthur’s furniture are few and far between. You have to be a bit of a metal-head to collect his stuff in great quantities. But I think it contrasts beautifully with almost any piece of good furniture. His use of aluminum tubing and ingenious hardware resulted in some of the most elegant, modern designs.
Bouloum Chaise by Olivier Mourgue for Airborne | $1,800 Everyone needs a little radical-1970s-French design in his or her home. As wild as the Bouloum Chaise looks, the ergonomics are inherent. It’s the most comfortable lounge chair you’ll ever sit in. This thing is wrong in all the right ways.
Modernist log holder by Smith/Temper/Sunberg of San Francisco (circa 1950s) $750 This useful thing does a lot for me. It’s early California modern design, which is hard to come by in the east. It’s constructed of perforated metal, a material I’m addicted to. And it retains a warm patina that only enhances its great looks.
My hat | Not for sale A fixture on my head for two years running.
A few tips to help you land a bumper crop and a plot that’ll be the envy of your neighbors.
After last summer, there’s a lot to feel confident about. The peppers, cucumbers and tomatoes grew like gangbusters. So much so that at a point, you could have opened your own CSA. But the squash went awry and suffocated the beets. And the deer got to the corn. Again. Gardening can be as frustrating as it is fulfilling. Even when you do everything right, a new variable enters the equation—a plague of bunnies, a historic heat wave—and undoes months worth of hard work. This summer will be different, though. Before we plant a single seed, we turned to the foremost authority we knew for advice on how to build our best backyard garden yet. Jack Staub spends his winters lecturing and writing—his seminal 2013 book, Private Edens—Beautiful Country Gardens (Gibbs Smith), is all the inspiration you really need—and his springs and summers tending to his Wrightstown estate, Hortulus Farm, one of the most influential (and photographed) public gardens in the country. Here, Staub offers a few pointers to help fortify your own and ignite a Pinterest frenzy. —Scott Edwards
Follow the sun The location of your plot needs to be a priority. If you tucked it in a far corner of the yard because it was out of the way or next to the compost pile, don’t expect to be rewarded beyond the convenience. A vegetable garden needs sun, and lots of it—half a day’s worth at least.
Dig a barrier There’s nothing more heartbreaking than finding your row of infant lettuces nibbled to the soil. Fencing is essential, but it’s not the be-all, end-all. Rabbits tend to burrow into a garden more than they jump into them. The solution: Dig a 12-inch trench around the perimeter and pack it with stout wire grid stapled to the bottom rail of the fence.
Raise your game Raised beds pack a whole slew of advantages. Not insignificantly, they push your garden within closer reach. They also: allow you to amend freely, heat up faster in the spring and drain better than a conventional garden, clearly delineate path from bed so you never compact your soil or stamp on your seedlings, make the garden a far prettier idea. Your beds should be six to 12 inches tall and no wider than a couple of feet so that you can easily reach the middle.
Refresh the soil With the exception of legumes, vegetables will deplete the soil’s nutrients over the growing season. Start by filling your beds with some top-shelf topsoil. Mix in some bagged manure next. Then, if you’ve got a compost pile, fold it in. If not, find a bagged equivalent. The compost goes in at the start and finish of every garden season. And this entire process should be repeated in the fall.
Build up, not out Constructing trellises and tuteurs out of timber and bamboo will not only add valuable square footage without enlarging your garden’s footprint, it’ll create an entirely new plane to entice the eye. That they’re perfect for the support and cultivation of the vining and climbing varieties of vegetables, like beans, peas, cucumbers, squash and tomatoes, is icing.
Keep them moving The legume, as I mentioned, is the only vegetable family that adds nutrients to the soil. Some are relatively benign, but solanums (tomatoes, eggplant) and brassicas (broccoli, cauliflower, brussels sprouts) will actually create viruses in the soil if they’re planted in the same spots season after season. A good rule of thumb: Rotate your crops every three years.