My Dream Kitchen, or, The Saga of the Dutch Oven

Clearly I love to eat. But, unlike many New Yorkers, I also love to cook. Some may even say that I get carried away with my cooking. Now admittedly, for Christmas Eve I did open the meal with garlic roasted shrimp and a red onion-jalapeño cocktail sauce, and followed that up with classic fondue with roasted potatoes, mushrooms, and asparagus. And I guess my New Year's Eve spread could be described as a bit excessive - greek lamb meatballs, zucchini fritters, tzatziki, gougères, bacon-wrapped scallops, endives with spiced nuts, gorgonzola and honey, and of course the ubiquitous artichoke dip (I'm not really sure why this has become a favorite, but there seems to be no escaping it now). And that's just the stuff that was homemade. I know how to make judicious use of frozen hors d'oeuvres and a few blocks of good cheese.

So, um, what I'm saying is, I love to cook. Love it. And therefore I need a workhorse of a kitchen. This is no small feat in NYC. All of my apartment searches have included “functional kitchen” as a deal-breaker. And the current kitchen I have is nothing to sneeze at (again, by Manhattan standards). I have a full-sized oven and fridge, reasonable cupboard space, and enough counter space to get the job done. But still, a girl can dream, right? And I dream of shelving. A lot of shelving. A substantial cutting board. A sharp knife. Maybe just a teensy bit more counter space, for when I'm really feeling extravagant. But most of all, I dream of a dutch oven.

I've had my eye on a good dutch oven for years now. In fact, every time the temperature drops, and I get the urge to stew, roast, and braise, I find myself once again salivating over ads for Le Creuset. But here's the thing – over the years Le Creuset has continued to be seriously expensive, and I have continued not to really make serious money. So I've set my sights lower – I'll take Lodge. Hell, I'll even take some annoying Mario Batali vanity cookware shit (but not Paula Deen. NEVER Paula Deen). And yet these still all manage to be out of my price range. So, dear readers, I put this question to you: Where can I get a good, enameled dutch oven with a tight-fitting lid? It has to be enameled, for the magical ragu sauce that I will someday make in it. And the tight-fitting lid is also essential so that we don't have a repeat of the great Berlin Pot Roast Debacle of 2010.

Join me in my quest. As added incentive, anyone who comments will receive an invitation to my virgin dutch oven endeavor – week long cassoulet. Yeah, you're going to need to leave those dieting resolutions at the door. And if cassoulet's not your thing, then just take satisfaction in the knowledge of making a young-ish New York Girl's dream come true. While I'm sure I'll never to be able to figure out a solution to the urban grilling conundrum, at least I'll be able to to cook meat for a really long time at a low temperature. And really, what more can a girl ask for?

Well, I guess I wouldn't really mind a decorative chalk board either. Just saying.