I’m not writing this to sell you my wine table (and don’t ask). But I will touch on a few delicate aspects of life in Belarus that might make you want to buy one, or build something similar. Not this exact one. There won’t be a second like it. But something close in spirit. Don’t laugh. Sit down. Think. Maybe your life is about to change, without a personalized horoscope from Sole Proprietor Lidiya Ivanovna.
The table is cool. Let me explain why. First, the technical part. Then the cultural one, as a bonus, if you have the patience.
The idea of a table made from an engine block is as old as a mammoth, maybe older. Still, there are a few things that make this one special. First of all, the base is a BMW M54B25 engine block. For people far from the car world: this is a very good, reliable, and extremely popular engine. One of its variants even lives in the BMW Museum in Munich. In 2003 and 2004, the M54 topped Ward’s AutoWorld list of the best engines in the world. Yes, in the world.
It’s still common around here. This engine is in your neighbor’s car, or was, or he planned to buy one until his wife made him get a Logan from the dealership. It powered the legendary E36 and E46 3 Series, the first X5 (yes, the one from Boomer), the E39 5 Series (“the last real one,” the same car Madonna peed in during Guy Ritchie’s commercial), the E65/66 7 Series (like the one owned by the service station boss near your house), plus the X3, Z4, and even the Wiesmann MF 30 (which you’re probably hearing about for the first time).
I was specifically looking for a BMW inline-six, an icon of the brand. Even though my own BMW has only four cylinders. Two extra wine slots never hurt, I thought practically. And the block’s vertical proportions are just perfect.
This brings us to the second unique point: orientation. Most engine tables are made in a “coffee table” format, with the block placed horizontally and glass on top, sometimes lifted using pistons and connecting rods.
Yes, the internet is full of engine tables. This trend peaked about ten years ago, back when Jeremy Clarkson casually put a mug on a Jaguar V12 table on Top Gear. There are entire studios specializing in automotive furniture: lamps from brake discs, tables from blocks and wheels, chairs from seats, desks from car parts, and so on. Even wine tables alone come in countless versions, with bottle lighting and painted finishes.
So why don’t we see these things in every home? Hold on. Let me finish the story.
When I was washing the engine at a car wash, an employee or maybe a customer told me he used to make things like this for sale in Moscow years ago. He advised sandblasting and painting the block, and mounting the glass on studs. I ignored that advice. I wanted maximum authenticity. Painted aluminum doesn’t work for me, not even in photos.
Everything was cleaned and polished by hand. Chemicals, brushes, wire wheels, power tools. Hard and tedious? Yes. But still easier than forcing yourself to visit one of those Guangzhou-style furniture boutiques in a mall, selling tasteless, overpriced furniture “in stock and made to order.” In the end, the aluminum reached the right level: clean, but with a hint of its working life.
I forgot that German engineers optimized the block with cast-iron liners, so the mirror-finish cylinder walls were gone. Along with the idea of lighting them up to visualize combustion phases. Probably for the best. Now the table is brutal and original, in the OEM sense. On the back side, in the crankshaft bed, wine glasses sit neatly, held by simple elastic straps. There’s even space for shot glasses.
The tabletop deserves a separate story. At first, I considered a simple circle. But once the base started revealing its potential, I paused. Is there a shape that’s both automotive and simple, yet endlessly cool? Yes. The Reuleaux triangle. One of the simplest shapes of constant width after a circle, and more importantly, the shape of a rotary engine rotor.
In the automotive world, the Wankel engine is strongly associated with Mazda. Ironically, Japanese and German engineering are often seen as opposites. And if you compare a rotary engine with a BMW inline-six like the M54, they are almost polar opposites in character. Harmony, after all, is the coordination of contrasting elements. At least according to Wikipedia.
Enough of the technical stuff.
Now let’s think about why such a worn-out idea like an engine table is still extremely rare here. Everyone has seen one. Everyone agrees it’s cool. But almost no one says, “I’ll make one.”
I’m worse at interior design than sociology, so I’ll blame society. I remember how hard it was to buy plain tiles. Black or white, without gold trim, roses, or baroque nonsense. Even when cheap plain tiles were finally found, the tilers tried to talk me out of it. “It’ll look like a morgue.” I don’t remember exactly where the dust ended and the mold began on that specialist’s boots, but I clearly remember him insisting on pink grout to “warm it up.”
I could give a hundred more examples. No need. Just accept that we have taste issues, and don’t argue. This isn’t even the main point.
I don’t expect an entire society to be refined. Everywhere people break rules, make mistakes, and lack culture. I just want us to live more consciously. It’s not much harder than living unconsciously. Sometimes it’s easier. If you don’t know how, just copy those who do. You left the barn for Europe, don’t analyze too much, just drive like everyone else so no one flashes their headlights at you. Understanding comes later.
Don’t know interiors? Buy a ready-made IKEA set. Don’t know cars? Buy something simple and cheap. Make conscious choices instead of replaying false default settings. Gold tiles and plaster molding won’t make you Aladdin. They won’t make you happier either, and they definitely won’t fool your guests from the countryside. They know it’s not real gold. They have the same thing.
Later, maybe much later, you can consciously buy something expensive for a classic interior, if you truly need it. The key is to go through this path step by step. Which is hard advice for Belarus, where people often jump straight from dad’s Passat B3 to a 2019 Audi Q7.
This leads to another blocker: consumer stereotypes. Wealth must be visible. A rich person can’t drive a cheap car or live modestly. How else would we know he’s rich? What’s the point of not buying a premium SUV in the city and parking it under the window of your inherited two-bedroom apartment?
With the Table™, the expected reaction is like in the joke: “Wait… you’re allowed to do that?” Total mental freeze.
You might say, “I can’t bring an engine into the house. My wife would throw me out.” Fair point. Sorry I didn’t start with that. Matriarchy is a sensitive topic, and Belarusian men are delicate creatures. But it’s exaggerated. Strong men still appeal to strong women. And there’s always a gentle approach. Talk about design trends. Show references. By the way, this table has already been tested on a focus group. One hundred percent of women said yes.
The final obstacle is the lack of habit for active action. Not laziness. You can stay at work until dawn, endlessly complicating things. I’m talking about initiative. You can’t buy this table at the market. There’s only a Polish Louis XIV knockoff for €400. eBay options for €1000 plus shipping don’t count. So you probably have to make it yourself. With glass and block included, it shouldn’t cost more than $100. It will cost time, though.
Maybe not now. Maybe in ten or fifteen years. But I really want every adult in Belarus to have the freedom, courage, and ability to put something simple, useful, and original in their home. Something that brings real pleasure, without fake consumerism.
That’s everything you need to know about my wine table.
P.S. The table is not for sale.
P.P.S. The first photo shows a cat, not a rug.