Recipe for a Wine Lantern

Anvil complete, and a special-order trellis panel built and out the door, it was time for Keith to get back to inventory production. Everything we sell is made here in the shop, so if we're running low on something, it's up to Keith to make more. Keeping our inventory up when Keith is in the midst of a commission can be tricky, so he tries to produce as much product as possible between larger jobs. With one commission already slated for this month and more on the way, Keith's trying to gain some inventory ground while he can.

Since the fall our Wine Lanterns have been selling almost as quickly as Keith could make them. In the store stands their display rack, maximum capacity eight, so it's obvious when stock is thin. He managed to finish up a batch of lantern bodies toward the end of December, but we were starting to run low on glass hurricanes. Keith fabricates the bodies from domestic steel using jigs he designed and built, while recycled wine bottles constitute the wind barrier. To make the latter, Keith goes through a multi-step process in his cold-working station. The first order of business is label removal. The bottles have to be soaked for several days, then scraped. Next the top and bottom sections are cut off, leaving just the 6" cylinder. This fits within the steel structure and protects the candle flame while burning.

We only use Bordeaux bottles for the hurricanes. Bottles used in Burgundy wine production don't work because their curvy shape yields a too-short cylinder. Several friends and neighbors, including Luke Bates of UFO Pizza down the street, have (kindly) gotten into the habit of saving bottles for us. "Shoulders not hips" is the mnemonic device we've been using to help folks remember which bottles to keep, and which to put out with the rest of the recycling.

In the spirit of using every part of the animal, as it were, Keith is in the midst of new product development. An elegant candelabra incorporating the wine bottle bottoms is on the welding table as of this writing, and he has several ideas for candle lighting solutions using the spout ends. He just completed a beer lantern prototype on Saturday, and a beer-inspired chandelier is in the works.

Anvil Epilogue

The best thing about reopening Taproot in this neighborhood is the neighbors. Our landlords, Simon and Kyoung of K & S Auto, have been exceptionally supportive of us. Meris and Davis across the street at the Blackwood Cafe provide not only coffee (and homemade biscuits with gravy), but also camaraderie. Of course, we wouldn't have found the space at all had it not been for our friend Catherine at Seastar Community Acupuncture a block away.

Local business owners notwithstanding, it quickly became apparent that the residential neighborhood surrounding us is home to an unusually friendly group of people. It took us two solid summer months to move in, set up, and get open. During that time we were spending long hours here, and during our daily lunch and dinner breaks we began to meet the locals, many of whom came walking their dogs past our 70th-side door, curious to know what was going on in Simon's first bay. (We saw so many of our neighbors during meals that I began to wonder if they would think we did anything other than eat.)

"We're starved for this!" one woman exclaimed. Everyone has expressed mingled delight and relief at having "something other than car repair shops and churches" in the neighborhood, often in unexpectedly generous ways. One couple brought a sack of home-grown tomatoes and a homemade sherry-zucchini bundt cake to welcome us. Bestowed upon us by another new friend was a pound of bee pollen. "Just Say Gnome" originator Steve Herrington gifted us with two of his creations. From a local painter came a few tins of Gamblin paint. Another artist brought some wire she thought Keith might be able to use. Around the holidays we received two big bottles of home-brewed beer from yet another neighbor who has become a friend. Many local residents did some portion of their holiday shopping at Taproot, and during these first three months in our new location, all of our commissions have been requested by people who live within walking distance.

One man, Bob, has shown nearly ecstatic enthusiasm for Keith's work from the first day he ventured over from the cafe where he'd been having coffee. He stops by now and then to check out the changes in the metal shop and run his hands over whatever newly smooth item Keith has procured since the last visit. A well-traveled retired history teacher, Bob is great fun to talk with, and every conversation we've had with him has yielded some new insight.

One day in December Bob stopped by to see the anvil. He told us he'd been walking his dog the night before and had stopped for a while to watch Keith in action. One day while we were closed for the holidays we stopped by the shop to drop something off, and found a piece of paper pushed through the mail slot. Bob had been inspired to write a short piece of prose about the evening he'd observed Keith grinding the anvil, excerpted below.

Sustainability isn't just about reducing our carbon footprint. While that's naturally of paramount importance, invaluable are the relationships that develop when you do business in your community.

*

"...Man, look at that, that new guy is working late. The bay to his shop was up.

"Long legs and heavy boots straddled a bench where an anvil glowed white-hot. Bouncing off the lenses of his hood, sparks leaped and snapped as he carefully sculpted the metal...

"I knew the guy, already had some of his stuff, so I knew it was special. I could have hailed him, maybe bullshitted for a while, but then his concentration would snap. Instead, we quietly watched, wishing I'd brought my camera, but, no, action like this you shouldn't try to capture. It's all about the shadows dancing on walls..."

- Bob Carrico, Portland