Underneath the mild-mannered ground floor filled with candlesticks and porcelain dogs and other objects I do not understand is a kick-ass basement filled with pretty much every piece of kitchen equipment you can think of. As long as it doesn't have an electrical cord, they carry it. There are things I've looked for for years until I went here, and it's still the first place I go when I need another handy cooking tool. (Except for knives, I get those some place else.)