Tools & Treasures Series: The Most Essential (and Sometimes Irritating) Tool in My Kitchen

🔥 A Love Story with the Wood Cookstove

There are many tools in my kitchen I love. My mixing bowls. My flour sifter. A few well-worn cast iron skillets. But none are as central—or as complex—as my wood cookstove.

It isn’t just the most needed tool in my kitchen… it’s also the one I have the deepest relationship with. Equal parts affection and frustration. As the saying goes, it’s complicated. But it is, without question, the heart of our home.

Long before we as a culture compartmentalized life into one appliance for this and another for that, the hearth—or later, the cookstove—was a faithful multitasker. It wasn’t just about making food. It heated the water. It dried the clothes. It kept the cold out of the house and the center of the home alive.

📅 The Day That Changed Everything

I had seen many period movies and TV shows that featured a wood cookstove in the kitchen. And while I held a deep admiration for them, honestly, I never set out to own one. In fact, I never even knew anyone who had one—let alone used it.

It was 1994. Ron and I were living in our first home, a charming little 1920s bungalow that he had lovingly restored before we moved in. It had beautiful natural woodwork and original wood flooring, and it paired gorgeously with our newly found love of antique pieces and history. A perfect place to experiment with both of those new love affairs.

But in spite of that, our home was outfitted with a modern gas range from 1992, a contemporary refrigerator, and a natural gas furnace that obediently hummed at the flick of a switch to heat the entire home evenly—and something that few with such an apparatus think about: it shuts off as quickly as it comes on. Our water heater made doing dishes, laundry, and other chores requiring hot water—along with self-care—effortless. A central air conditioner was also a bragging point of that home.

There was nothing old-fashioned about it, and certainly no thought of trading modern convenience for a cast-iron relic.

But one Sunday after church, that changed.

We stopped at a small antique store next to a farmhouse, run by an older couple named Tom and Winnie. Salt-of-the-earth folks. Their shop was lovely, but it was their home that left the mark. They invited us in to see a few of their most treasured pieces, and in their kitchen sat a 1928 Home Comfort wood cookstove—fully hooked up and in working use.

I was captivated.

I remember peppering Winnie with questions while Ron stood beside me with that quiet look that says, I can see exactly where this is headed. She told me she still used it during the cold months. And then, just casually, she said, “We’ve got another one out in the barn we’re planning to put in the shop, if you’re interested.”

I didn’t know what I would do with it. But I knew I needed it. And Ron, as always, asked only the kinds of questions a steady man asks when he sees his wife fall in love with an impractical—but very heartfelt—idea.

That stove sat in our little bungalow kitchen as decoration for a couple of years—until we moved to a small farmhouse on three acres. And that’s when Ron hooked it up. Not because I begged him. But because he wanted to.

We both fell for it. Hard.

It had gone from an object of beauty to a deeply appreciated tool.

Every house since has had a wood cookstove—always hooked up. For many years, we used it seasonally. But then, about halfway through this 34-year journey, we made the decision to use it full-time.

Every day. Every season.

☕ When Romance Meets Reality

Today, we use a Margin Gem stove—purchased new in 2007 and designed for full-time use, made by the Amish in Canada. Our beloved old Home Comfort (our second, as our first had to stay with the farmhouse when we sold it) now rests in our workshop and is used part-time—too worn for the daily demands of an off-grid life.

But the Margin Gem? She’s the workhorse the Home Comfort had been in her glory days. The heart of the home.

She heats our water for dishes and bathing. Warms the house in the long northern winters. Dries our laundry. Cooks most of our meals throughout the year.

But I won’t paint the picture too rosy. This tool—though deeply loved—isn’t always easy to love.

It takes effort. Real, physical work. Starting the fire. Managing the heat. Hauling the wood. Timing meals just right. And in warmer months, the extra heat can be downright oppressive. I do have a propane stove for cooking in the hot weather, but the Margin Gem still runs most mornings, because I need hot water—for bathing, washing, or cleaning.

I’ve learned to run her early in the morning before the heat becomes too much. I suspect the women before me knew all the tricks: which windows to open, what time to bake, how to survive the hottest months with grace and damp washcloths. I have often wondered about the folks in the cities, in the apartment complexes—how miserable it must have been for them.

And yes—this life is one we chose. Not because it was easier, but because it was ours. It was a way to walk in freedom from debt. A way to harmonize with the past, rather than press forward with the world.

There’s a price to pay for this path. But for us, it’s been the right one.

And so this stove… this tool… holds more than just fire. It holds memory. Conviction. A commitment. And yes, even a little frustration now and again.

But more than that—it holds home.

💬 A Question for You

Now I’d love to hear from you, dear reader.

What is the one tool in your kitchen you can’t do without? Is it something passed down? Something unexpected? Something you didn’t think you’d love until you used it?

Does it have a memory attached to it? A story? A lesson?

I’d be honored if you’d share it in the comments below. Your kitchen wisdom, your “tools and treasures,” are welcome here. This little homestead of words grows stronger every time another woman adds her story.

With gratitude from the kitchen,

The Intentional Peasant