Antique Tin Toy Kitchens

Tin toy kitchens, also known as doll kitchens, were made in Germany and America through the 1800s in a wide range of styles and price points. All were based on an open, three sided room box model. Large deluxe versions often featured working water tanks, functional sink taps, and a vast array of accessories, while tiny, simply made varieties offered only the merest suggestion of an oven, and relied heavily on children's imagination to make up for their lack of amenities.

I received these two tin kitchens for Christmas this past year. The first was made in Germany in the 1870s, and although small, measuring a mere 6 inches wide by 4 inches tall, features some fine details. There is a functioning tank on the right side which delivers water through a spout on the inner wall. The stove has a hood, a door that opens, and a rarely seen heat regulator (the tiny tab above the door: it slides to reveal an opening which would allow heat to escape from the oven.)

The kitchen still retains its unusually bright color scheme of yellow walls, salmon floor, and turquoise shelves.

This second kitchen is the tiniest and crudest I've ever seen, and yet it has a primitive charm. Measuring just 4 inches wide, it's almost pocket sized, and its stove is just a piece of folded tin, creating the merest suggestion of an oven. It retains traces of its original green paint on the side walls, and was clearly much loved and played with by its original owner. It dates from the late 1800s.

To learn more about the history of these playsets and to see a larger, more deluxe model, click here.

Antique Doll Kitchen

One of this year's most extravagant Christmas gifts, this unusual antique doll kitchen came with interesting provenance.

From the collection of Evelyn Ackerman, an authority on antique dollhouses (particularly those of the German firm, Gottschalk) it is pictured in one of the books she authored, The Genius of Moritz Gottschalk. 

It's lost a few bits since that photo was taken some years ago, but still has enough items for a doll to do her holiday cooking. Measuring 10.5 inches high by 14 inches wide, the wooden kitchen features lithographed paper in patterns of brick and tile, an opening stove door, a towel rack, a tin sink, lattice work trim, and its original pot and wash boiler.

Inscribed on the bottom of the kitchen is its model number and a message: "Janie from Uncle Charlie 1917." The play wear on this kitchen shows how much Janie enjoyed it, but it's also clear she treasured it carefully for many years. Uncle Charlie, wherever you are now, thank you for the doll kitchen: it's a beautiful toy!

Antique toys for Christmas, 2013.

Mrs. Potato Head, Housespud, in the Biggest All-New Combination Pack

My latest vintage Potato Head set is one of the rarest, and also the largest, with the box measuring in at 18 inches wide by 12.5 tall. That's a pretty big box for a toy that, in the years before plastic potatoes were added, usually consisted of little more than a handful of tiny face pieces.

But the Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head Biggest All-New Combination Pack contains much more than the typical set. In fact, it has everything including the kitchen sink!

 

Produced for a brief period in the early 1960s, the Biggest All-New Combination Pack was an attempt to accessorize the Potato Heads in a way that would appeal to both boys and girls, and the large box made it appear to be especially deluxe. In reality, the set's accessories were cheaper than cheap, but the cover art really sold it.

The package included not just one vehicle for Mr. Potato Head, and not just a car, like some of his other sets. This one came with a plane, a train, and a boat.

For Mrs. Potato Head, there was a set of gleaming new kitchen appliances, and a baby in a stroller. (More about that baby in a minute...)

Inside, the accessories were tucked into cardboard backers, while fragile styrofoam display heads held the Mr. & Mrs. face pieces. Both the cardboard backers and the styrofoam heads are very easily damaged while trying to remove the pieces, which is probably one reason the set is so scarce today.

Here is Mr. Potato Head's garage. The vehicles are made of a brittle plastic, and the wheels had a tendency to snap off. These are now rarely found intact.

 

  

This is Mrs. Potato Head's kitchen set. The items are each molded from a single piece of flimsy plastic. They don't have any moving parts, so, for instance, the doors can't open. They are identical to the items found furnishing the metal dollhouses so common in this time period.

 

 

And here is the much advertised new baby, in his stroller. He must have been adopted, as he is clearly a human baby, and not a potato. Or perhaps Hasbro didn't want to go to the expense of designing and molding a new potato character, and they just tossed in these cheap dollhouse babies, apparently thinking kids wouldn't notice.

 

 

 

The set comes with instruction booklets for both Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head (and look: there's the human baby right on the cover!) The inside of Mrs. P's gives us a telling glimpse into societal expectations for women at this time:

 

 

Yep, that's right: Mr. Potato Head gets to go gallivanting about in his boat, train, or airplane, but Mrs. P. is expected to stay home with her non-functioning kitchen appliances and the freaky baby.

 

 

 

Antique Tin Toy Kitchen

Here's another antique doll kitchen, just in time for Thanksgiving. This one is from the late 1800s. This style of tin kitchen was made in America to compete with the larger, fancier, and more expensive wooden German imports. Although these were mass produced, they are hard to find today, as they were fragile, heavily played with, and filled with items that were typically lost over time. This one is still stocked with most of its original items.

The kitchen is made of pressed tin and measures 10 1/2 inches wide by 7 inches tall.

The central feature is the wood burning stove with exhaust hood. This is a non-working version, but some toy kitchens came with wood, coal, or alcohol burning stoves that actually worked. That's another reason they're so hard to find today: a lot of them went up in flames from cooking gone wrong.

 

The more deluxe versions of these tin toy kitchens did have one working feature, however: a water tank that really held water, and could be pumped with a little handle to fill a sink.

 

 

The tank rests in a basin on the right side of the kitchen. Pumping the handle on the top makes the water flow into this conical sink:

 

 

The kitchen is chock full of tiny utensils and implements. Here are a miniature grater and a mold:

 

 

The plate racks at the top of the kitchen are full of tin plates:

 

 

One of the few non-tin items in the kitchen is this miniature rolling pin, seen here with a mixing bowl and a butter knife:

 

 

The knife, bowl, and rolling pin are all completely out of scale with each other, yet all are original to this kitchen. Scale wasn't important to the makers of these toys. For implements to have been in scale, they would have been so tiny as to be unusable, and the whole goal was to give little girls an affordable (hence small) toy kitchen they could actually use to practice cooking and cleaning. The oversize spoons at the top of the kitchen are another example; such spoons are nearly always included in these kitchens and mounted in this fashion, and they are always this big.

 

Some of the items in these kitchens were cleverly made from scrap metals. These little frying pans were made from a cosmetics tin and a piece of embossed ceiling tile:

 

 

Advertising items sometimes found their way into these kitchens as well, and some kitchens were occasionally given away as promotional items for various home goods companies or as sales incentives. Children could sometimes win such a toy kitchen for selling magazine subscriptions, for example. This one has a tiny dust pan advertising the "Steel Edge Dust Pan" Company.

 

 

My peg wooden doll is getting ready to start her Thanksgiving cooking. Hope yours goes well, and that you have a very happy holiday!

 

 

Antique Doll Kitchen

 

Found recently in a far back corner of an antique mall was this small doll kitchen, American made circa the early 1900s. The peg wooden dolls, while rather out of scale, seem very at home inside. 

 

 

The kitchen is one of the smallest I've ever seen, just 6 3/4 inches tall by 9 inches wide. (My largest doll kitchen can be seen by clicking here.) The open, wooden room features an impressed printed design on the sides and base, including windows, shutters, and a "stone" foundation.

The contents include a wee little cast iron stove, just 3 1/2 inches wide, and an assortment of kitchen apparatus: an earthenware pitcher and bowl; tin plates, pails, and molds (note the lobster shaped mold mounted on the wall); and a cast iron frying pan.

The peg wooden dolls are German, and the larger of the two is probably late 1800s. They, and the kitchen itself, show a lot of play wear, but I think that only adds to their charm. Some little girl over 100 years ago really loved this toy. I wonder what she pretended to cook on its tiny stove?

1950s German Kitchen Playset

I found this 1950s-early '60s kitchen playset at a recent toy show. Made in Western Germany by Fuchs, the 16 inch wide kitchen features fabulous mid-century design elements, including a very fashionable salmon pink and turquoise blue color palette.

One of my favorite features is the printed-on window, which reveals a scene of a father arriving home from work, his vintage automobile parked just outside the gate.

The cupboard doors above the stove slide open, revealing tiny canisters filled with printed paper food. The little drawers under the cupboard slide open, too.

The copper mold forms, found in German toy kitchens all the way back to the 1700s, are in this case printed onto the wall above the counter.

An assortment of real miniature molds cover the countertop. These could actually be used to make such things as little chocolates or gelatins. A teeny tiny mezzaluna lies beneath the molds, useful for chopping herbs.

A basket of miniature flatware, each piece stamped "Germany", rests on the counter. They are quite delicate, and amazingly in perfect condition.










The stove top hosts the most adorable set of miniature cookware I've ever seen: pots and pans decorated with images of tiny toys.

The kitchen set was a great find: such playsets by this maker are highly sought items. But the price made it a fantastic find: only $25! I was hopping up and down with glee once I spotted the price tag. Typically kitchens like this sell in the $100+ range. Some of the accessories alone (the silverware tray, the mezzaluna) sell for more than $25 apiece from dollhouse and miniature dealers. It was the best bargain of the whole toy show!

1930s German Doll Kitchen

An antique German doll kitchen had long been on my wish list, and this past Christmas, Santa did not disappoint! This 1930s example came complete with its original floor covering, wallpapers, and furnishings. I added some accessories and a dolly cook. Measuring a hefty 27 inches wide by 11 inches high, the scale is larger than dollhouse, sized more for actual doll play. The kitchen is a delightful combination of classic Dutch kitchen decor and 1930s Art Deco styling.

The kitchen cabinet has wonderful Deco curves, a paper "linoleum" counter top, drawers that open, and real glass sliding doors.

The wonderful dry sink swivels into the counter, out of the way: 

The little blue and white stove is adorable, and the door opens. I added the china plates to cover the burner holes; they are much older, circa the mid 1800s, but fit perfectly. 

One of my most loved accessories is now in the kitchen: this tiny (1/2 inch tall) Royal Worcester pudding bowl, made in England in the mid 1800s. The piece is so very small and fragile, it's amazing to me that it survived. 

My china doll seemed to be the perfect match for this kitchen, in her color coordinated dress. She's looking forward to trying out the pudding bowl.

The doll kitchen is a very old and traditional German Christmas gift, dating all the way back to the 1700s.  In her wonderful book, Doll Kitchens, author Eva Stille explains that doll kitchens would be brought down from the attic each Christmastime by parents who would freshen them up with more grocery supplies, a new pie plate or two, and a bright new coat of paint. All winter, the kitchens would entertain the family's children, until with the warming spring weather, the toys, now depleted of provisions, temporarily lost their interest. They would be packed back up and returned to the attic as the children moved their play outdoors, only to be brought back down once more, restocked, and placed under the tree again the next Christmas.

The toys were usually passed down through several generations. Stille gives an example of an 1885 doll kitchen ordered by a wealthy family in Bregenz. The toy was passed down among girls in the family all the way to 1979, when it was bequeathed to the most recent descendant, who was still playing with it at the time of the book's publication in 1988!

I feel very fortunate to have finally received my own doll kitchen for Christmas. 

Antique Dollhouse Food

My very favorite type of dollhouse miniature is antique dollhouse food. I actually collected dollhouse food long before I collected dollhouses, dolls, or furniture.

I think my interest in miniature foods goes back to seeing the illustrations in Beatrix Potter's 1904 book, The Tale of Two Bad Mice. In the story, two mice break into a dollhouse and attempt to eat the scrumptious looking dinner laid out on the table. When they discover the food is made of plaster and glued to the plates, they smash it to bits in frustration and then go on a destructive rampage as they burglarize the house. The dollies, upon returning home, immediately engage a Steiff policeman doll to watch over their residence.

I've always found the illustrations of the dollhouse food in The Tale of Two Bad Mice to be charming and captivating:

and I was thrilled last year to find an antique dollhouse ham very like the one in the illustration (German, circa the 1900s):

My oldest piece of dollhouse food is this tiny ham shown below, about 1 1/4 inch wide, made of a papier-mache-like substance on a pressed paper plate. It came from Germany in the mid 1800s. It's not pretty, but it's old, and it's amazing to me how something so small and fragile has survived:

 My very best sets of antique miniature food are these two, made in France in the 1880s. The items are painted plaster, in a scale a bit larger than 1" to 1 foot; I think they may have been meant for dolls rather than dollhouses. They are unplayed with; in fact, most of the pieces are still tied down with their original twine. The boxes feature beautifully lithographed labels with scenes of little bakers cooking (and drinking!) and children dining.

 

I love the old stove in this image, and the

oversized frying pan on the burner.

That's some giant omelet they're making!

And this image has so much to appreciate: the lovely cupboard on the right; the gorgeously upholstered chairs; the children's clothing; the finely detailed dishes and embroidered tablecloth...

And here's what's inside: beautiful miniature play food, some recognizable to me (those hams again!) some not (that flat pink and white thing in the upper left corner. Maybe it's some sort of French regional specialty):

Here are the items in profile, to give a sense of their proportions. The pieces average between 2 and 3 inches long:

And some detail close-ups:

A very fancy ham.

A fishy entree.

A ham (again), lobster, what looks like eggs in a salad....but I'm not sure what that is in the upper right. Maybe a fruitcake?

For some reason (perhaps the Beatrix Potter influence again) I prefer the primitive style of these old pieces to our modern hyper-realistic dollhouse food. Even though today's amazingly crafted pieces look so authentic, these crude-by comparison miniatures have a special charm of their own. And, after all, they fooled the mice in the story, so they must look real enough!