TREASURE HUNT

When you start talking about kitchen collectibles, everyone has their own favorite. Some collectors search high and low for kitschy 1950s juice glasses, the kind that are printed with flowers and cartoon animals in red, green or brown designs. Others dig through boxes at the flea market for vintage potato mashers and pancake turners with the original red or black paint on their handles.

Every tool for each corner of the kitchen has its own following.

Lately, I’ve been looking at cake covers.

I keep one of my favorite milk-glass cake stands, topped with a heavy glass cover, on the counter in my kitchen in the hopes that one of the bakers in my family will be inspired to put a cake on it. But even without a cake, the milk-white cake stand looks pretty.

Of course, what I remember from the kitchen of my childhood was a bit more prosaic. My grandmother’s plain glass cake plate, covered by an aluminum cover with a red knob on the top, was always put to use sheltering a three-layer yellow cake iced with creamy chocolate frosting. I never had to lift the cover to know what was under it. That cake was as dependable as the sunrise.

When I moved away and got my own kitchen, I was given a utilitarian Tupperware cake keeper. Having a cake in the kitchen wasn’t so dependable, but when I did bake one, I noticed that for some reason (besides the obvious fact that I’m an uninspired cook) the cakes just never tasted as good as I remembered.

Naturally, I assigned blame to the Tupperware and replaced it with time-tested tools like the glass cake dome and a metal cake-cover like my grandmother’s.

Later, at an estate sale, I found a pretty hand-painted vintage metal cake carrier, the kind with a tall dome that clips onto a base to make the whole thing portable. It spends most of its time displayed on top of a cabinet in my kitchen, but if needed, it’s a handy way to take a cake to a potluck.

Then, the other day, strolling down the aisle at a local thrift store, I found another pretty cover, minus the plate. It had the same red knob on top, like my grandmother’s, but instead of plain metal, it was painted a creamy vanilla that had yellowed with time. The front was decorated with hand-painted flowers and leaves. There were a few little marks, but it was in excellent condition.

A few shelves away, I found a wide glass plate that fit under the cover perfectly.

At $3.50 for the cover and another 95 cents for the plate, I bought them both for less than a large latte. And I’ll enjoy them for much longer.

Now, while I’m waiting for one of my daughters to get in the mood to bake a cake, the vintage hand-painted cover adds a little bit of charm and a dash of nostalgia to my kitchen counter.

And who knows, it might just be the inspiration I need to bake one of my grandmother’s yellow cakes.

You know, I’d forgotten how much fun it is to get the last of the icing out of the bowl.