002: ON EGG CUPS AND THE JOY OF SPECIFICITY
A shortcut to feeling posh before 8AM
As a general rule, I’m not a fan of the hyper-specific kitchen tool. No avocado slicers, no garlic presses, no cherry pitters, no corn strippers, no honey dippers, no spiralizers, nothing that drains your tofu, nothing that shapes your onigiri, no little metal grids that cut your bitter puntarelle greens into perfect little matchsticks. (Ok, yes, at some point, I have owned most of these, and yes, they did wind up in the trash or on the table at my annual stoop sale!) Personally, I’d rather take a knife skills class at the Institute of Culinary Education than waste money on an egg slicer — though admittedly this one has a cool industrial vibe.
What I am highly and unabashedly invested in is hyper-specific serveware. A rack for toasts? A plate for oysters? A spoon just for mustards? One of the most memorable exhibitions I ever saw was a retrospective of the Providence, Rhode Island–based Gorham silver company, where the service on view included items like a fish fork, a pickle dish, an ice cream hatchet, and a celery vase. I’m not even sure what a celery vase is, but it was glorious.
Egg cups fall solidly into the realm of things you absolutely do not need in your kitchen. And yet, if and when you decide to buy them, they will undoubtedly make your breakfast time better and infinitely more refined. A shortcut to feeling posh before 8AM. A small but potent sign that maybe you actually do have your life together. Before, we were scraping out soft salted yolks over an ice bath near the sink. Now, we are cleanly slicing off the tips of our shells and placing our proteins alongside gorgeous buttered sourdough strips. Now, we have presentation.
I started thinking about egg cups when I came across one designed by the legendary Italian architect Achille Castiglioni. Called the Sunday Egg Cup (below), it appeared on the Instagram of Soft Servings, an excellent kitchen-inspo account run by Hem’s creative director Cristina Poelk. There isn’t a ton of information available about this piece on the internet. Castiglioni being an industrial designer, the look of his egg cup is strictly no-nonsense — a gently curved steel X, spring-loaded, almost like an elegant binder clip holding your breakfast aloft. Poelk attributed its production to Alessi, which leaves me with many questions, including: Why hasn’t this piece been resurrected from the archive? Does Alessi understand the current mania for all things metal? Does Alessi understand how much design freaks would give to own an egg cup by Castiglioni? Does Alessi need me to be a consultant for the US market?
When I started looking around for alternatives to recommend here, I was delighted to find as many egg cup styles as there are moods in which I wake up every morning. This didn’t feel like a given; egg cups are notoriously less popular here in America, where we don’t have a tradition of soft-boiled eggs with soldiers for breakfast, and in fact we have a whole population that’s frightened of runny yolks. Designers seem to be rediscovering the form as of late, perhaps because egg cups also fall into another beloved category: They’re a small enough canvas that designers can be a little riskier and more experimental with them.
Perhaps the most ubiquitous egg cup on the market in recent years is the ruffled Coco cup by Sophie Lou Jacobsen, which comes in green glass edged with delicate black or in a version that’s fully clear. I emailed with Sophie to ask her what inspired this particular detour.
What inspired you to design an egg cup in the first place?
I had designed this egg cup for one of my stockists, who was creating a capsule around the theme of breakfast. The project never happened, but the prototype lived on my desk for several years, prominently, like a trophy, as it was (and still is) one of my favorite things that I’ve designed. But I never thought I could put it into production because the complexity of it — which gives it this over-the-top nature that I love in relation its given purpose — comes with a hefty price tag. And I thought, ‘No one will want to pay this for an egg cup, especially in a country where egg cups are hardly used.’ But I kept coming back to it, and after three years of not tiring of looking at it, I figured, if I love it this much, others will too.
The design of this egg cup clearly takes inspiration from classic Venini vessels, and I love the fact that, without anything to give it a sense of scale, one could think it was a vase or a trophy. When I first posted it online, a friend commented “a throne for an egg,” and I love that idea so much. Elevating perhaps the most mundane and common thing in the world to royal status.
Do egg cups hold meaning for you personally?
Growing up in a French household, we always had egg cups at home. We often had an “œuf à coque” (egg and soldiers) for breakfast, so it holds personal childhood associations and memories. But I think, even as a child, I was always drawn to the specificity of this object, that truly only holds one function, which is also always so clear from the shape of the object itself.
I find so much joy in the specificity of items like this.
Same! Because the object has a single function, you’re forced to recognize the act you are performing, bringing you into the moment and enacting a sort of ritual. For me, these associations between object and usage are what creates strong impressions, and thus memories. The other great thing about objects of single use is that generally you only have one parameter that needs to remain the same, so you can really have fun with the rest. Recently there was an exhibition at the Decorative Arts Museum in Paris on Christofle, and my favorite part was the section on all of their (historical) objects of single function — the asparagus tongs, the strawberry bowl, the cabbage tray. The list went on and on.
What kinds of feelings do these objects evoke in you?
Delight, humor, intention and thoughtfulness, a general sense of playfulness, and the joy of living!
Here are a few of my other favorites, if you’re interested in getting into the joy of living, aka collecting egg cups, aka what I just found out is called pocillovy, proving that collector dorks can ruin just about anything.
Now perhaps the only question is: Do you also need an egg knocker with which to make a clean cut? To, as King Louis XV once said, “decapitate an egg at a single stroke”? Resist the urge, or don’t. I’m not here to judge your choices.
THE KITCHEN SINK
A selection of links to other news, objects, interiors, and more that have been on my mind this week.
Big week for Block Shop Textiles in Los Angeles, from whom I’ve bought at least five incredibly soft and perfect patterned robes. The sister-owned brand is part of a block-printing-through-the-ages exhibition at LACMA, and they created a series of exhibition-specific patterns for the occasion, inspired by William Morris’s “Rose” motif. This sunny ochre robe would be a real pick-me-up during your GRWM.
I’ve been on the hunt for non-traditional candles lately and my newest obsession is Lucky Star, whose hand-sculpted tapers take the form of rotting florals or lettuce-green latticework.
This week, Comme Des Garçons brought these hard-to-find Rei Kawakubo–designed chairs from the 1980s back into production. Only available at CDG Paris, as far as I know; the price is not listed, but this vintage pair is on eBay for $19,500 to give you an idea.
What a fun article, I'll read anything that helps feeling posh before 8am!
I use Sip Cups by Studio Arhoj as egg cups! The best.