Whiskey Cabinet

This finger-joint cabinet is versatile enough to be utilized in any room in the house, and packs in a lot of great woodworking techniques. It’s not often that I get to build a project in my shop without a camera in my face, but this wall cabinet started as one of those projects. Like many woodworking projects, it began it out of necessity. When I built my office in the shop, I included a few comforts of home: a coffee maker, a couch, a bookcase, as well as my kettle and stash of tea. Goose (the shop cat) has a tendency to run off with teabags or knock over jars of loose leaf tea. So, the necessity was to build a cabinet for my teas, coffees, as well as cups for visitors. Over the winter, the idea for a wall-mounted tea cabinet start to form. With the holiday break, the last thing I wanted to do was fire up a camera, lights, and document the process (no offense to you, our readers). After a few days, I ended up with a wall cabinet that I really liked—it was simple, functional, and a great size. While laying out the magazine schedule for the rest of the year, I decided to include it in our project lineup. Let’s set the lay of the land. This wall cabinet features finger-joint construction at the corners. It is, in my opinion, a great-looking joint. It’s not as common today as dovetails, but it can be cut using a variety of techniques, which I’ll touch on later. The cabinet I built for my office was made from white oak (ideally quartersawn). The finger joints, joinery, and the mildly Asian influence of the door and overall form pair well with the straight grain and medullary rays of white oak. That said, part of me thinks I should have called this one (which happens to be serving as a whiskey cabinet) the “Ugly Duckling” cabinet. When I started digging through my lumber stash—boards I milled several years ago on the sawmill—I thought I had found a nice piece of white oak. It had some defects, but that’s nothing unusual. As soon as I cut into it, I realized it was actually red oak. If you’ve listened to our podcast, you know I have a bit of a bias against red oak. It was overused in the ’90s and early 2000s, and it can feel uninspiring. However, once I started milling it up, it showed some really nice character. It wasn’t perfect—there were cracks and knots—but between those were straight grain, beautiful medullary rays, and colors you don’t often see in commercial red oak. The commercial lumber industry tends to homogenize material, so anything outside tight standards gets culled. Locally sawn lumber—whether from small mills, local yards, or urban logs—often shows much more variation. This red oak was a perfect example of that, so I decided to run with it. Construction starts with building the case. I milled all the stock to size, and because it was air-dried, I did it in stages. If you’re unsure about your material or suspect internal tension, it’s best to mill in steps—bring it close to final dimensions, sticker it, and let it sit for a couple of days. Any warping or movement is likely to happen then. After that, a final pass will bring everything back to flat and true. More red oak and sliding doors: Sliding Door Stereo Cabinet Online Extras: Find the SketchUp file and additional ways to cut finger joints. Mix it up: Get inspired by this Kumiko wall shelf. Custlist and Diagrams Finger Joint Case Once the material is sized, it’s time to cut the finger joints, which are really the star of the show. I prefer smaller fingers—they look more refined. Recently, I’ve been using a Shaper Origin to cut them. I realize that’s not a tool everyone has, but it works well. That said, finger joints can be cut in a number of ways. For more on that, visit the online extras and scroll down to Whiskey Cabinet. For this project, I used 1/4“ spacing, with the fingers themselves also 1/4“ wide. The proportions worked out so both sides of the joint had an equal number of fingers, creating a clean, uniform look. No matter how you cut them, test the fit. You want them to go together easily, but not loosely. A little space for glue is ideal. During this dry fit, also check that the case is square. If it’s out, the sliding door will make that obvious. Speaking of sliding door, we need to cut the “track” for it. These grooves in the top and shelf. These can be done at the table saw. The ends of the grooves will show, but they’re easy to plug later. If you prefer, you can cut stopped grooves at the router table. While at the table saw, cut a rabbet along the back edge of the top and bottom (for the shiplap back). Shelf Joinery Next, there are a few additional joinery steps. A pair of twin through-tenons on each end of the shelf attach it to the sides via mortises. These are wedged for a mechanical lock and visual detail. Start by forming the mortises. Lay out the mortises, then drill out the waste at the drill press with a Forstner bit. I like to tape the sides together to save time. After drilling, clean up the mortises with a chisel, working to your layout lines. Now, it’s time to form the tenons. I do this by laying my shelf over top of the mortises, and transferring the location and size of the tenons. You don’t have to be super accurate here — the wedges will take up a lot of slop. Now, cut the tenons. You can do this by hand or at the table saw using a tall fence on the miter gauge. A dado stack speeds things up. Test the fit—you want the tenons to slip in, leaving just a bit of room for wedges to expand them later. After they’re fit, go ahead and cut kerfs for wedges. I use a big rip panel saw for a wide kerf. Divide The Space Next, cut stopped dadoes in the shelf and the underside of the top for the vertical dividers. Clamp the parts together, lay out the locations and stop points. I find routing these are easiest done using a pair of MDF fences. Use double-sided tape to stick the fence to your part, and use your divider as a spacer. Place the second fence in place and route them using a dado cleanout bit (the bearing rides on the MDF fences). The ends will be rounded, which is fine—you can notch the dividers to match. The dividers themselves get a through-dado for the horizontal divider. After routing, notch the ends so they seat fully. A handsaw and chisel make quick work of this. Test the fit before moving on. Assemble The Case For assembly, start by gluing up the divider assembly. It doesn’t need to fully cure—just hold together. Then assemble the case. Lay one side flat, install the shelf, and then the bottom. The next step is a bit tricky: the top and divider go in together. Tilt the top like a hinge, slip the divider into place, then close it up. Add glue, install the second side, and clamp everything together. Apply enough pressure to fully seat the joints, but not so much that you introduce bowing or twist. Once you’re satisfied, clean up any glue squeeze-out. The back on my cabinet is made from shiplap slats, milled to thickness and rabbeted on opposite edges. They’re installed after finishing and fastened with brads or screws. Plywood is a perfectly acceptable alternative (see photo 30). A Simple Door The door is a simple frame with rails and stiles joined with loose tenons. After assembly, cut a rabbet along the inside edge to hold the panel. I used rice paper from a Japanese screen for contrast against the red oak. After the door is assembled, cut the tongues that fit into the grooves in the case. The door installs by sliding into the top track, then dropping into the bottom. The offset grooves hold it in place while allowing it to slide freely. Interior panels can be secured with simple battens. I use pin nails, but brads work just as well. For finish, I used a shop-made hardwax oil—a blend of spar varnish, Mineral Spirits, linseed oil, beeswax, and carnauba wax. I brush it on, let it soak, then buff after 15–20 minutes. The buffing generates heat, which helps even out the wax and produce a soft sheen. It’s a nice balance of protection while still looking and feeling like wood. I’ve used it on my Shaker workbench, and it has held up well. After installing the back, I added a hardwood French cleat for hanging. For a cabinet this size, a 1/4“ cleat is plenty. Overall, this is a straightforward project with a strong visual payoff. It’s easy to build but has enough detail to make it stand out. Don’t be surprised if you end up making more than one.