The craft

Four days on the bench.

A basket is not quick, and we don’t pretend it is. The oak soaks overnight. That is the fastest honest version.

What goes into one

01

White oak

We rive it. Riving means splitting with the grain, not sawing across it. A sawn strip snaps. A riven one flexes, which is why a market basket can be packed hard and still spring back. The stakes are the uprights. The weavers are the strands that travel around them.
02

Willow

Used where the basket should be lighter: some of the small rounds, and a few special orders. We peel it in spring, when the sap lets the bark go. Dried willow gets a long soak before it will bend in a curve we trust.
03

Seagrass

Not the body of the basket. The wrap. It lashes the rim to the stakes and gives the handle a place to land that doesn’t chew your hand. You can feel it. That’s the point.

Day one

Rive and soak

We split white oak while it is cold, when the grain runs straight. Weavers go into the tank until they bend in a full circle without a crack. Willow gets peeled when the sap is up. Nothing is woven dry.
Day two

The base

A round base starts at the center and grows. A rectangular one starts on a form. Basket makers call the turn from base to wall the upsett. In plain language: this is where the basket stands up, and if we rush it, it will wobble forever.
Day three

The walls

Stakes are set, then we weave. A rand is a plain over-under. Waling is a stronger band, usually at the foot and under the rim. Markets are tight. Bread baskets stay open so a loaf can cool. Hampers get a twill because a lid needs a straight wall.
Day four

Rim, oil, name

A carved oak rim, lashed with seagrass. A thin coat of oil, then a day to go quiet. Initials and the date on the base. Then it can leave. If the oil is still tacky, it stays.

Keep it dry. Shake out rain. Don’t leave it in a puddle or a damp trunk.
Dust with a dry brush. Skip the dishwasher, and don’t soak a finished basket.
Once a year, if the oak looks pale, a thin coat of food-grade mineral oil. Wipe off what doesn’t go in.
A garden trug can be rinsed. Dry it in the shade, on its side, so the base doesn’t sit in water.
If a weaver pops, bring it back. We reweave what we made. Sometimes we can repair a South Jersey splint basket that isn’t ours, if the oak is still sound. Ask first.

Plastic cane, paper rush, or an imported basket we only oil and resell.
A matched set that looks factory-made. Two Asbury baskets will differ. That is the work.
Overnight. The soak takes the night. The rim takes the afternoon. We would rather say no.
A liner that traps damp. If you want fabric in a picnic hamper, bring a cloth you can wash. We won’t sew one in.