Build This Spice Rack in 15 Minutes

I told my wife that we were going to do an article on making a spice rack. “Good,” she said, “I need one.” I asked her what she had in mind. “Something simple. Not a piece of furniture. Just big enough to organize the spices I take out so they are handy while I cook.” She pointed to the wall and a nearby cabinet door. “Maybe you could put it there or hang it on the inside of the cabinet, here.”

“Okay,” I replied, “I have to go to the lumberyard and get a piece of wood.” “You have enough wood for what I want downstairs,” she replied. I was skeptical. “How big is the rack you want?” I asked.

“About this big” she said, spreading her hands approximately a foot apart. “One shelf?” I asked. “One shelf,” she replied, adding, “the kind of thing you can build in about fifteen minutes.”

I must have looked doubtful. “I want you to have fun building it,” she said. “I don’t want this to turn into a big production.” She paused, then added, “I remember the nice smell of wood coming from my dad’s woodshop.”

I walked toward the basement door, thinking of the many woodworking projects we've done over the years at Popular Mechanics and this project as the second in a series of scrap wood projects. “Have fun down there,” she said. “And no bad language! I don’t want to see ampersands, exclamation marks, and asterisks coming up from the basement.”

More From Popular Mechanics

 

Supplies to Help

• Miter saw: Metabo-HPT C10FCGS
• Combination square: Johnson Level Model 400
• Random orbit sander: Craftsman CMEW231
• Sanding discs: Gator Model 4342

The 15-Minute Spice Rack

Anybody who has ever built anything whether a spice rack, a house, a boat, or an engine will tell you that it always takes longer than you think.

But my wife has a point. I get carried away, as if everything I build will have to stand for inspection. An elderly man I met decades ago recalled such an inspection he faced as an apprentice to a German master craftsman. The young man proudly showed the master the chessboard he had just completed. It was perfect but for a small dab of shellac filler stick he used on an imperfect corner. He pointed out the concealment, and the master nodded appreciatively. Then the master went to his tool chest, took out a large hatchet, and planted it firmly in the center of the board. “We don’t use filler,” he said in a dry tone as the astonished apprentice looked at his ruined work. “Do it over.”

What I’ve forgotten about woodworking is this: It’s supposed to be fun. I wondered if I could design a spice rack that would be fun to build in fifteen minutes, give or take an ampersand or two.

Work Smarter Not Harder

Our 15-minute spice rack consists of just six pieces, built from 3⁄4 inch thick white pine (1 by 4) and some 7⁄16-inch pine trim. The longest piece is 12 inches long. You can probably build this from scrap wood you have lying around your shop. That’s where we found our materials.

The spice rack is fashioned out of short pieces of scrap wood. I cut clear, knot-free parts out of the 1 by 4, but the 7⁄16-inch pine was clear; it had some damaged ends, which I cut off.

If your shop is already set up with your miter saw and finish nailer ready, and you have other materials standing by (sandpaper, super glue) you probably could build this little spice rack in fifteen minutes or so. Caveat: By build, I mean cut and fasten the pieces.

Here Are the Steps:

Select your stock and quickly buzz over the outside surfaces of the wood with a random orbit sander and a 220-grit disc. Don’t get carried away; this isn’t furniture. Wipe off the dust.

Crosscut two pieces of Part A slightly overlong then cut a 50-degree angle on them. Now stack them both on the miter saw and crosscut them both to 6-5⁄8 inches long (see drawing).

Crosscut two pieces, Part B, slightly overlong, stack them on the miter saw, and crosscut them (13-1⁄2 inches). Drill a mounting hole large enough for a Number 6 screw in the center of one of them.

Spice Rack Mounting Hole

Make a counter-bored hole in the center of Part B. The hole needs to be large enough to suit a screw for whatever hollow wall anchor you use.

Part B is only 7/16 inch thick, so you have to be careful when making the counterbore that seats the screw head. The counterbored portion of the hole is just deep enough to seat the head, but no deeper.

Down and dirty trick: super glue. Crosscut Part C and put a few dabs of super glue on its end grain and on both pieces of Part A where the pieces meet. Don’t use too much glue, it could squeeze out and bond the spice rack to the bench. Bring the parts together with a clamp.

While the glue is curing, hold Part D in position, mark its length, and crosscut it.

The super glue sets in minutes. Remove the clamp, and use a finish nailer to fire in two or three 1-1⁄2-inch 18-gauge brads (or use headless pins), firing the fasteners through Part A, into Part C. The glue holds the parts so they don’t move when you fire in the nails, but it's the fasteners that provide the holding power.

Assuming Part D makes a tight fit, spread a little wood glue on its bottom edge and slide it into position so its front is offset by 1⁄16 inch from the edge of the spice rack. This little offset is known as a reveal, and it’s a small but pleasing design detail. Note: Don’t use super glue here. It can bond so quickly that Part D could get stuck in the wrong position.

Offset the front of the spice rack by 1⁄16 inch or a little less. This produces a pleasing little reveal at the front of the spice rack (while hiding any small imperfection in the part’s fit).

Now place both pieces of Part B on the workbench, spread a little wood glue on them so they will stick to both pieces of Part A. Tip the spice rack assembly onto its back with the parts aligned as shown in the photo, and let the glue cure.

Done.

Our little spice rack should be quickly built and fun. It’s not fine furniture, but it doesn’t have to be.

While the glue cured, I cleaned up the shop. Then I brought the little spice rack upstairs to show my wife. “It’s cute,” she said, "like a little toolbox." And I added, “No foul language.” My wife gave me a doubtful look. “Well, maybe a comma or two,” I said, “but no asterisks.”