A rock-hard decision
"Put these on." Our granite guide hands my husband and me orange vests to match hers.
"What for?" I ask, slipping my arms through.
"Safety," she says.
"So they can find us in the rubble?"
She doesn't answer.
On that mortal note, Dan and I enter the granite warehouse to find a slab for our basement bar. The warehouse is bigger than a Wal-Mart and colder than a morgue.
We begin walking aisle after aisle of rock slabs the size of states.
"What type granite are you looking for?" the humorless guide asks.
I answer with my typically succinct "Uhhhh."
"I see." She looks at her watch. It's only 9 a.m., but you can tell she wishes it were lunchtime already.
"Well, none that looks like a cross-section of organ meats." I point to a slab that looks like a lung-cancer biopsy.
"No Baltic Brown," she says, making a note on her clipboard.
"And none that makes me seasick." I point to a swishy pattern that looks like a cresting wave.
"No movement," she jots, then looks at me as if I had a character defect.
"And I don't want the stone to look as if it came through the food processor, either. So nothing too homogenous."
She makes a note: Air brain.
"And nothing too common. I don't want all the neighbors to have it. But nothing too weird, so it won't affect . . ." I lower my voice conspiratorially, ". . . resale."
"Like anyone here cares about our real estate plans," Dan says.
She writes: Nut case.
"I don't want the cheapest or the most expensive."
She sighs. "Well, that narrows it down."
The granite slabs we zero in on have names that make me want to go on the kind of vacation where you need shots: Typhoon Green, Moscarello, Espirito Santo. Soon, they all become a blur.
After two hours, we drag home six heavy samples and an eye-crossing headache. We hoist the granite onto the basement counter and arrange the samples from favorite to least favorite. The showroom faxes the prices. Salespeople don't give you these prices in the showroom because most granite employees aren't trained in CPR. This way we can have a heart attack in the comfort of our own home. Prices range from $60 to $200 a square foot installed, which increases my liking of Formica. We rearrange the samples based on price, which reverses the order based on favorites.
Over the years of chronic and obsessive home remodeling, Dan and I have picked several granite slabs. Every time, I think: How hard can this be?
The answer is: Hard. Rock hard. However, these pointers from Gary Kay, owner of Earthquake Granite Fabrications in Denver, help:
â—� Feel: Don't just look at the stone. Run your hand over it to feel for pitting.
â—� Homework: Walk through a stone yard to get familiar with what's out there, what you like and pricing.
â—� Variation: Don't just pick the type of stone you want; pick the actual slab. Stones in the same vein can vary a lot.
� Edge detail: Basic edge cuts include waterfall, bull nose, flat polished and simple rounded. Upgraded edges include hand-chiseled, ogee, double ogee and rope. The edge detail can make a huge difference in the final look � and price � and dictate whether your space looks more contemporary (flat polished), masculine (bull nose), European (ogee) or rustic (hand-chiseled).
� Pattern: Rock aficionados like marble or granite with lots of movement, so it makes a statement. Others want stone to fade into the background. In general, a heavily patterned stone works where other backgrounds are subtle. A quieter stone won't limit décor as much.
â—� Thickness: A 3-centimeter slab may cost more than a 2-centimeter slab, but working with the thinner slab will cost more in labor if fabricators have to sandwich slabs to get a good thickness.
â—� Price: Most installers want you to pick material before they quote a price for installation, because price often varies depending on your stone.
â—� Biggest mistake: Working with someone who doesn't understand properties of stone. For example, many designers steer clients toward absolute black, which is beautiful, Kay says, "but it's like your soul: It shows every flaw and smudge."