When I finally went from temporary housing on the Buda side to my permanent flat on the Pest side, I needed a few things. To say my new place was a “furnished apartment” may have been stretching it, at least in the kitchen. My fellow foodies will surely agree.
Maybe you can get away calling something furnished with no sheets or towels, but no big spoon? Who doesn’t need a big spoon for cooking? There was also no mixing or serving bowl, spatula, peeler, baking dish, or baking sheet. The frying pans and cutting boards were disgusting. And, horror, there were hardly any wine glasses. Okay, so maybe the last item is understandable, but really, how is someone supposed to cook without a big spoon?
So I needed stuff, and I needed stuff quickly. The answer was a four letter word: I-K-E-A. You need sheets? Go to IKEA. You need cookware? Go to IKEA. You need extension cords, towels, a bed, a kitchen sink stopper, decorative napkins, children’s furniture, or those famous, or maybe now infamous, Swedish meatballs? You guessed it, go to IKEA.
IKEA is a dangerous place. There are so many colorful and bright things. It reminds me of the movie Poltergeist. Someone should be there warning you—do not go into the light!
I moved into my new flat on a Friday. That weekend I went to IKEA three times; there was only so much I could carry on public transportation. Plus, I wasn’t aware of all the things I needed right away. I showed amazing restraint in the kitchen section. But I definitely have a big spoon now.