Field Company’s skillets are exactly what you love to give as a gift: eminently useful, but lovely enough you enjoy keeping it on the stove even when you’re not using it. It’s hand-machined after casting for excellent balance. It weighs less than nearly all competitors without feeling less sturdy.

And it’s nicely preseasoned, which means you can cook with it right away. Though take note: I’d start with a long-caramelized onion cook, anyway, to get it worked in. As with all cast-iron pans, you’ll still need to build up a nice, smooth seasoning layer over time to unlock cast iron’s nonstick qualities. But once you’ve got this thing worked in, it’ll get close to as nonstick as the ones with all the funny chemicals and coatings—but will last long enough you can give it to your kids or your kids’ kids.

But: Would you like to be even more distinctive? The Finex cast-iron pan ($250 with lid) is prized for its machined, polished, preseasoned, and pristine finish, of course. But it’s also an item that combines style and substance. The distinctive octagonal shape allows you to pour from any angle. The spiral handle is heat-resistant, staying cool for a half hour or more in my experience. It’s lovely.

If you’re not a cook this might not make sense, but trust me; few things will improve cooking more than having a salt box (or cellar or pig or whatever you want to call it) by your stove. Sure, you can get by with a ramekin or similar small dish, but that’s the point of giving gifts—to elevate your loved one’s cooking experience in ways they never would themselves.

I used to have, and recommend, a fancy Bee House salt cellar. It still makes a good gift, and it’s nice, But I ended up cracking mine and not noticing and getting a chip of white porcelain in the salt, which then ended up in the food (thankfully, it was not eaten). If you, or your cooking loved one is like me—clumsy, with a tendency to break fragile things—go with this bamboo salt cellar instead. It still looks good on the counter, holds salt admirably well, and it’s cheaper to boot, which leaves you some coin to get them some high quality sea salt. —Scott Gilbertson

This cutting board is oversize but still fits nicely on my shallow countertop and in skinny kitchen cupboards. The textured surface helps it stick to my counter even without a tea towel underneath, and I like the juice groove as well. Despite using it nearly every time I cook, my cutting board’s surface is still beautiful and functional. The best part, though, is the handle, which means I can transfer my prepped veggies to my stovetop without needing to make 12 trips back and forth with a bench scraper. I like everything Great Jones makes, but this cutting board would be an especially nice and practical gift. —Louryn Strampe

Among home cooks and professional chefs in my hometown of Portland, Oregon, a carbon steel Steelport chef’s knife is an object both well-known and coveted. Its 65 HRC hardness blade retains one of the best edges I know, cutting through thick meat or tough carrot stalks as if they were water, while the spine is kept at lower hardness for durability. A coffee cure showcases the blade’s dual nature, offering a two-color patina that makes this knife among the most beautiful objects that’s ever entered my kitchen.

Every chef should have at least one carbon steel blade they treasure. While this one is expensive–the sort of thing that a cook might balk at before buying themselves—this fact is precisely why it makes for such a good gift for someone else. In June I came across a recent convert to Steelport blades, a barbecue chef with a barrel cooker in a parking lot. When I asked about the Steelport he was using to slice through thick smoked lamb, he laughed. “Man, I didn’t even want to like it this much,” he said. In the past he’d mostly bought low-cost utility knives, and now felt spoiled by the knowledge that a knife could feel this good, slicing through lamb or veggies like they aren’t even there. Carbon steel takes a bit of extra care to avoid rust, mostly a matter of wiping it down immediately after use and drying. But man, it’s hard to go back to other knives.

This gift is a great mix of beauty and utility. Many of my cook friends already have serious affection for All-Clad’s set of measuring spoons ($35), which are preciously shaped not like spoons but like miniature All-Clad pans—a visual pun that also makes small measures of spices or flour much easier to parse visually than you could with a spoon-shaped spoon.

This set is even more special, and useful. These are the odd and vexing sizes that nonetheless turn up constantly in baking recipes: 1.5 teaspoons or 1.5 cups, a ¾ cup or a ⅔ cup. These are measurements that often require eyeballing or multiple measuring cups to achieve. Any cook, and especially any baker, who receives this gift will feel both charmed and understood.

Among his favorite cookbooks of 2025, this baking book from Nicole Rucker quickly became WIRED contributor Joe Ray’s closest friend. Why? Because it takes the high-maintenance parts of baking, cooks them down, and makes them easy again. The book starts from a simple question: “Why can’t every recipe be as simple to put together as a good banana-bread recipe?”

The innovation that let Rucker simplify baking recipes is something called the Cold-Butter Method, aka the CBM—essentially, adding cold butter to your dry ingredients straightaway instead of the long, irritating step of pre-creaming butter and sugar. This upends decades of cookie-baking advice, and also simplifies baking considerably. Indeed, all the recipes are simple and encouraging, Ray notes—making this book a path to rediscovering the joy of baking. But among fancier fare, it was still the “classic 1980s mom banana bread” that engendered the most spirited response. After Ray shared a few slices with his neighbor, she was so enthused she embarrassed him in a supermarket dairy section by singing his (and the cake’s) praises so loudly.

Every cook has seen these checkerboard-looking cutting boards and thirsted for them a little. They’re handsome, of course, but they’re also functional. Using the smaller end-grain wood pieces makes your butcher block harder to nick (which matters not just for aesthetics but bacteria), and easier on your favorite knife. But because an end-grain board must be made from many pieces of wood, they are usually quite expensive. And so they are perfect gifts for the cook in your life—a functional indulgence they may not have afforded themselves, but which they will be grateful for each day they use it.

A Boardsmith walnut end-grain is the board I have been using and treasuring for the past year. Walnut wood, like most maple and fruit woods, falls in the sweet spot of hardness that’s hard to ding up but easy on knives. It’s got that nice dark, uh, walnut color. Its heft makes it unlikely to move around. And it makes me feel a little better each time I cook—as if cutting celery were a form of luxury I’d previously been denied. The cook in your life will likely feel much the same. Note that maple is also a terrific cutting-board wood, and Boardsmith’s costs $50 less than walnut.

Other great cutting boards: If you don’t have room for a big ol’ butcher-block board, Steelport has an elegant solution. The Steelport SteelCore ($280) is a rare thing: a genuinely innovative cutting board. It’s a still-hefty but much thinner board made with end-grain walnut on one side for veggies and everyday prep, a composite cutting board on the flip side for raw meat, and steel beams within for both heft and warp resistance—all in a slim enough package it’s easy to stash. I’ve possibly never met a more useful board, and it’s still a bit of a looker.

On the budget side, this reversible edge-grain block from Boos is also great (if not as great as end-cut boards), and it’s only $87.

Instant read thermometers are something every cook should have. It might be cool to saunter over to the grill and gently prod your steak with a finger and pronounce it medium well, but few of us can reliably do that. The Thermapen One will tell you the exact internal temperature in one second. No need for elaborate guesswork.

Cheap instant read thermometers litter Amazon, but we like the more expensive Thermapen One for its reliability (mine is five years old and still going strong) and speed. Yes, speed really does matter, because the longer the oven is open or the grill lid off, the more it cools and the more unevenly you end up cooking. Get them the best thermometer and you should guarantee they’ll temp your hanger steak exactly the way you like it. —Scott Gilbertson

OK, so technically the best home knife sharpener is probably a set of Shapton stones, plus a knife sharpening class and some diligence. But the best knife is the sharp knife—and that comes from having a knife sharpener you’ll actually use. For me right now, that’s the Tormek T-1, which is the best pull-through knife sharpener I’ve tested. It’s got a cleverly designed jig to keep your knife to the right angle against the diamond sharpening wheel, and a self-wetting (i.e., no lubrication needed) composite honing wheel.

That might sound daunting. And it’ll look daunting for about five minutes, then feel quite easy—especially on better knives that have a good edge already. The Tormek is no replacement for a skilled knife sharpener, whom you might still engage (or become) for your most valuable blades. But lord, for your everyday and better-than-everyday knives, this is a sexy beast, and upon BESS testing, this Tormek was able to attain sharpness better than new knives straight out of the box. Now, the T-1’s not perfect, especially at creating an even edge all the way to the tippy-tip and far back of the knife, but it’s the best of its type I’ve found, and it’s simple enough you’re likely to actually make use of it.

This said! One shouldn’t use the sharpener as a first resort. If the cook of your affections doesn’t have a good honing rod, that’s the best thing to use on a more consistent basis. Try this dandy ceramic honing rod from Zwilling ($75).

After living in Mexico for a year, I am unable to eat store-bought tortillas. Sure, they’re easy, there’s nothing to do but warm them, but they’re also limp, flavorless, sad little excuses for food. Fortunately, making your own tortillas is incredibly easy—well, if you have a tortilla press. The best tortilla press I’ve used is this one from Masienda. I particularly like the ability to press larger tortillas.

If your foodie friend likes Mexican food, this gift will change their cooking world. This combo pack gives them everything they need to get started making their own tortillas: masa and a press. Homemade tortillas are things of beauty and exemplify what I love about cooking: using simple, high-quality ingredients to produce something far better than you would expect. The key to great tortillas is great masa harina, and Masienda’s flour is my favorite (well, outside of Mexico anyway). —Scott Gilbertson

Kitchen lighters are usually sad things, uglier than what you’d use for a cigarette, with igniters about as reliable as a McDonald’s ice cream machine. My colleague Nena Farrell swears by this electric lighter from Luma Flume as a stylish alternative. No fluids needed. No shabby igniters. There’s a two-step process to activate its electric prongs, mostly for childproofing reasons. The lighter can stand upright, meaning it can be table decor instead of jumbling around in your kitchen drawer. Colors include a fashionable purple-gray dune shade and soft sage green. And it’s a little bit pretty. It’s a stylish upgrade to an object the cook in your life probably never thought to upgrade.

If you’re a baker, especially of long doughs like pizza and bread, you’re likely all too familiar with the difficulty of cleaning bowls, mixers, starter containers, and anything else of sticky, developed gluten. It doesn’t take much for sponges—or sinks, or pipes—to become entombed in the stuff, sometimes intractably. The answer is the Keeki Cloth, a square of webbed polyester mesh that cleans even the biggest baking messes effectively and immediately. Best of all, it’s machine washable, so it’s able to be thoroughly cleaned and sanitized before its next use.

I’ve been using—and machine-washing—mine for over a year, and it still looks good as new. In fact, I love it so much I often use it with dish soap to clean regular dishes of stuck-on food. A three-pack is just $15, making it an easy stocking stuffer, hostess gift, or excuse to keep a few in rotation. —Kat Merck

Every Vitamix story sounds the same. First, the resistance: How is this $400-something blender possibly that much better than those that cost $50? Then, the conversion story. It’s become almost a genre of WIRED article, where one reviewer after another turns into a Vitamix fan after initial skepticism. Vitamix has newer models that can go in the dishwasher, but maybe no item is more agreed upon, owned, and treasured by the WIRED Reviews team than the classically tulip-shaped Vitamix 5200, which my colleague Scott Gilbertson has called the “reference blender in the world of blenders.”

No, it’s not just for smoothies, though that’s how multiple people on our squad like to use it. While testing blenders and robot blenders, I’ve become a convert to fresh mayo, taqueria-style salsas, and blender soups made with squash, carrots, split peas, and/or potatoes. In the summer, you’ll find me with tomato puree. I’ve lately become a … pesto person? When your blender doesn’t suck, it really is a lot like adding a new world of things to your home life—delicious things once reserved for restaurants or factories.

If you gift the Field Company pan above, or if your foodie friend already has some cast iron pans, this cleaning kit is worth its weight in gold. The chain mail scrubber makes cast iron cleanup insanely easy—easier than a nonstick pan, in fact. (Note from fellow WIRED reviewer Matthew Korfhage: He co-signs heftily on this care kit, especially because the scrubber is also excellent for evening out the seasoning on your pan if you went wild with the oil.)

I’ll admit I was hesitant to use this at first, fearing it would strip off my hard-won seasoning, but that turns out to be a nonissue (well, I suppose you could strip your pans if you went overboard on the elbow grease, but I’ve had no issues in six months of testing). Instead, the scrubber made cleaning cast iron so easy my kids can do it. —Scott Gilbertson

I’ve been baking sourdough bread for years, though I am somewhat new to gluten-free sourdough, which I am currently trying to master. In all that time, I just let my loaves rise laid on a towel in whatever bowl was handy. This worked (especially using the trick of sprinkling some rice flour on your towel, which stops sticking), but it is nowhere near as nice as using this bowl.

This makes a great gift because this is the sort of thing many of us would never have bought on our own, but it immediately simplifies life, thanks to the nonstick properties of the wood pulp. I don’t even have to use the rice flour trick with this thing. Dough just doesn’t stick. I also like the nice waffle texture this adds to the loaf, though there is also a smooth version and a grooved version if you prefer. Want to make a bread-baking package gift? Throw in a nice Danish dough whisk ($20) and a good bread lame ($9). —Scott Gilbertson

While testing pizza ovens, I wrote that this propane All-Clad Pizza Oven is the pizza oven I’d choose if cost were no object. It’s got 16 inches of room, enough to cook a family-sized pie. It heats wicked fast, with a built-in oven thermometer that mostly works (a rarity among pizza ovens). It gets hot enough for Neapolitan if you’d like, 900 degrees Fahrenheit. And it has a rotating pizza stone, which means you don’t have to spend a bunch of time twirling your dough inside the oven.

But: For smaller budgets, the entry-level option I’d choose is the wildly simple and lightweight Ooni Koda 2 ($499). If you decide you want a rotating stone, you can later upgrade with a rotating stone ($399)

For lovers of french fries, tots, wings, and crispy things, the Typhur Dome 2 air fryer is not just better than other air fryers. It’s different in kind, engineered with two heating elements on its top. Plus, its bottom and air speeds can be adjusted. It self-cleans just like an oven. And its shallow, broad basket means faster cooks and crispier wings and fries. It also means you can bake a freezer pizza in it, and get crispier and much better results than you’ve been getting in your oven. And yet, you can also char veggies or cook up a pork loin on its grill and roast settings—including some oddly excellent asparagus.

A well-designed smart app contains scads of recipes from London broil to salmon croquettes to birthday cakes, and will ping you when your food’s done. It’s quite the thing, and tops my list of the best air fryers for good reason. One caveat: It’s a bit shallow to air fry a whole chicken, if that’s your thing. But this Typhur is maybe the only air fryer extravagant and fun enough to give as a gift.

There are other stand mixers; in fact, we have a guide to stand mixers, but let’s face it—this is the stand mixer. If your food-loving friend doesn’t have a KitchenAid stand mixer, and you can afford it, this will probably be the best gift they get. KitchenAid has been making this thing since 1937. While I wouldn’t say the design is unchanged (the original apparently weighed more than 50 pounds and wasn’t as sleek), it hasn’t changed much, which is a testament to how well it works.

In our testing, it was the most stable mixer at high speeds, and the tilt head model makes changing attachments a snap. It’s also quite versatile, with extra attachments such as a metal food grinder for meat, an ice shaver, a pasta roller, and a citrus juicer (most sold separately). —Scott Gilbertson

This Breville Smart Oven Air Fryer Pro is the countertop oven that the WIRED Reviews team gives most often as a gift to themselves—an oven that replaces the need to heat up your oven at all, or subs in as a second oven when you’re cooking feasts. I like the autopilot functions on the upgrade Breville Joule ($500), my favorite accessory oven of them all. But this Smart Oven Pro is almost the same hardware at a slightly lower price.

Why’s it so good? It’s way more precise and diverse in its cooking functions than your regular oven, with 13 functions from air frying to roasting to dough proofing and plain old baking. Breville swears there’s enough room, one cubic foot, that you can cook a 14-pound turkey in it. I believe them: It’s remarkably roomy, without taking over your counter. Cleanup is easy, but you’ll want to be diligent, lest you bake grease spots into the drip tray.

There are many Instant Pots, but the Pro Plus (8/10, WIRED Recommends) is the best. The big difference is that the cooking surface is nice and flat (unlike most of the others, where the center is domed up slightly), which means your oil is distributed evenly and you can properly sear things in this model. The control panel is definitely the nicest of the Instant Pot line. There are eight programs, including pressure cook, slow cook, steam, rice, sauté, and warm. The Pro Plus also has a bit more power—1,200 watts to the 1,000 watts on many of the other models, which makes for better browning, a key component of many pressure-cooker recipes. Speaking of recipes, the one downside is the smart portion of the equation. We found it not that smart. Instructions are vague, and recipes did not come out well in our testing. Tell whomever you give it to to just ignore the app. —Scott Gilbertson

Let’s face it. Plastic is kinda gross. Do you really want to swaddle your food in it? Help your friends and family kick the plastic habit with these awesome plastic wrap alternatives. Made of organic cotton that is then coated with a blend of beeswax, plant oil, and tree resin, these wraps take the place of plastic-wrap-seal containers. You can store cheese or even wrap up sandwiches for a picnic. This three-pack makes a good starter set with sizes ranging from the smallest—perfect for wrapping up the other half of that avocado—to the largest, which is 13 by 14 inches. If your friend is vegan, Bee’s Wrap also has some non-bee wraps coated with coconut and soy. —Scott Gilbertson