If you didn't find enough inspiration from our gift guides (under $25, under $100, and worth-the-splurge suggestions here!), never fear: there's more where that came from. Here, our editors share what's on their own personal wish lists this holiday season.

asdasdPasta-Making Toolkit

When all of my hobbies got put on hold this year, I turned to the kitchen to pass the time. A trip to Italy back in 2018 (does that not feel like a lifetime ago?) sparked an interest in pasta-making; having the time to really get acquainted with my Marcato roller these last few months has taken it into a full-blown love affair. I'm ready to take things to the next level at this point — there's only so much tagliatelle and spaghettini a girl can crank out — and I think this lovely beech wood pasta tool set from Flourist is the way to make that happen. The small rolling pins (mattarelli) vary in size, and grooves on one side of the board are intended for making trofie, fusili, and other intriguingly fussy shapes. Hope there's some sort of Italian Santa out there who will make my dreams come true. Pasta board set from Flourist, $99. — Stacey McLachlan, editor at large

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A Great Cookbook

I have a friend who, in the beforetimes when I was regularly travelling, used to love taking care of my cat specifically so she could look through my cookbook collection. (She likes the cat all right too.) So it's safe to say I'll always have at least one cookbook on my wishlist each year, and this year it's this one. (Ok I might have two: I'm also eyeing up the latest Ottolenghi). I test drove a library copy of Cannelle et Vanille ($35) earlier this year, and it's all kinds of beautiful—Seattleite and Basque-country-born author Aran Goyoaga created the blog of the same name, and does all of the photography as well as the recipes. And the recipes reflect both her current PNW location and her roots: the braised chicken with apples and Basque cider, for example, was simple in its execution, and one of the most delicious things I've made all year, ditto the roasted carrot and cashew soup with sumac. I've yet to get ambitious enough to tackle her gluten-free sourdough boules, but it seems like the perfect holiday project. —Anicka Quin, editorial director 

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This Slow-Made Sweater

Any roommate I’ve had in the last 10 years can tell you I’m the go-to gal if you need to borrow clothes. Through a very special curation method called I literally never throw anything away, I have hoarded a huge collection of garments—everything from casual wear to formal wear to Halloween costumes. So buying new clothes (in this economy?) is really not something I can justify. But that doesn’t mean other people can’t buy them for me. I’ve had my eye on Edmonton slow fashion brand Gus Sloan for a while now—each of their garments is made-to-order, and they started making scrunchies from their offcuts this year. Guilt-free, right? I’m pretty in love with the Carrie sweater ($109), a ribbed bamboo top that looks versatile enough to keep for, I don’t know, the rest of my life.—Alyssa Hirose, assistant editor

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Hiku Premium Hand Coffee Grinder by Kanso

Yes, this is an expensive ask. When you include taxes, this is a coffee grinder for over $300 (list price $279). That is very hard for me not to scoff at. 

However, I do feel I've earned it. For the last couple years, my coffee-making experience has been fairly bottom-of-the-barrel. Like sure, I'd get some quality beans from one of Vancouver's finest purveyors, but then I'd have them pre-ground and throw them in the freezer so they'd stay some modicum of fresh while I use them for pour overs. It's not good, I know. 

So hopefully Vancouver-based Kanso and its locally made grinder (that looks like a fancy camera) can help me step up my coffee game and become a truly insufferable hipster. —Nathan Caddell, associate editor

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Ed Burtynsky Photo

My colleagues are all being so modest in their aspirations—even Nate's grail of Hispterdom is...well actually, it is pretty expensive considering. But I'm a swinging for the fences here. 

I saw my first Ed Burtynsky photo decades ago at the Paul Kuhn Gallery in Calgary. It was a monumental scene of hundreds of oil derricks in Bakersfield, California and there was some sweet irony that they heads of Calgary's oil companies we're buying these harsh commentaries on environmental degradation and putting them in their boardrooms. It was like art via trojan horse. Since then Burtynsky's fame and esteem has only grown—his Manufactured Landscapes series and film brought him to the public eye in a way few other Canadian artists are. And, correspondingly, prices for his pieces have likewise crept up (I'm not going to even tell you how much that oil derrick photo was back in the day other than to say it was about 1/8 what it would be now). 

But like the rest of us, Burtynsky had ample time on his hands once the pandemic got into full swing and for him that meant retreating to rural Grey County, Ontario and just taking natural, beautiful photos of his surrounding ostensibly devoid of environmental commentary (although don't kid yourself too much on the last one). Not only are the just plain striking, the smaller images come in higher editions and a lower price than Burtynsky's work has been in a long while. You can buy a portfolio of ten and in theory split it with 10 friends and you'd wouldn't be completely breaking the bank. Plus Burtynsky, together with Nicholas Metivier Gallery in Toronto, will be donating $200,000 from the proceeds of the sale of the Natural Order portfolio to the Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO) and the Ryerson Image Centre (RIC) for the establishment of new acquisition funds dedicated to acquiring the works by emerging to mid-career Canada photographic artists. While that doesn't exactly speak to the westerner in me, it's still pretty cool.—Neal McLennan, Food + Travel Editor