“Everything happens for a reason.” “The third time is the charm.”  Pick your cliche. That lovely house in Grinzing that was to be ours in May?  Thankfully that did not transpire. The long story short is that the owner oversold the property and its space, something we discovered before it was too late; and with the help of the UN Housing folks, got out of the lease. What is it with unscrupulous Viennese landlords?
With movers scheduled and nowhere to move, the last two weeks of April seemed rather desperate for us. Then the clouds parted and the new place appeared. We see it as a good sign that the owners are not Viennese. They even brought Prosecco to the “house key exchange.” 
So where is the new home? In a cool 1959-era building (owned by our Landlords) across the street from Türkenschanzpark, just a little 70,000 m2 green space that overstimulates Clayton Theodore twice daily. Ambassador residences are sprinkled about; and for the first week here we were overwhelmed by the friendliness of everyone we met. In our 8-flat building we have already met and chatted with more neighbors than we had in the three years up in stuffy old Döbling. Ours is the garden level flat, and last night while in the garden with CTF our neighbors gave us a shout-out and apologized  for the noise they were making–it seems Dad is building their daughter a treehouse bed loft using real tree branches, and they were concerned that the sawing was disturbing us. Hardly. The Mom plays piano, and offered to accompany Anna Grace (whom she heard practicing) if ever we wanted. I think these folks just might enjoy a good ole American backyard barbecue this summer. 
But onto the house kitchen. I stopped looking at the flat the moment my toes touched the reclaimed brick floor. This was home.
A pantry for the serious cook. And that’s only half of the storage space. 

An entire unit devoted to ethnic groceries. No more am I opening large plastic IKEA bins looking for curry paste or sesame oil.

My Spice A-Team is altogether, the first time in three years.

Induction island cooktop. Kitchen porn, if you will.

My favorite cookbooks and culinary literature reside within view of the cooktop.

Yes, yes, there are the parquet-ed living room, dining room, bedrooms, and office and slate-floored bathrooms, but really, who’s to notice what lies beyond the heart of the home?