Your only snitch of disappointment may be that you’ve driven here yourself, and the outlay surely implies a chauffeur. Someone should be opening your door.

A visit to the homestead of Dee and Kamal Kassis in Absecon will provide some sights you rarely find these days— starting with the long tree-lined drive. It’s a road off the road beyond a stately gate. Lawns, manicured and shimmery green, extend endlessly beyond the swishing trees. A blooming fountain will come into view, and beyond it the postured estate; grand, but a little... displaced?

Florida house? No matter: It works. Its stately walls draw you toward it, into the circular brick drive, the sides of which are hugged by nature, a jungle not-quite-tropical. Your only snitch of disappointment may be that you’ve driven here yourself, and the outlay surely implies a chauffeur. Someone should be opening your door. It may in fact be Dee Kassis, a warm hostess who loves company, houseguests, and cooking for all. You can tell immediately that she adores this homestead, loves sharing the details of any item you stop to study—the planted, the hand-picked, the handmade, the antiques purchased at auction, or pieces designed in the likeness thereof. Dee and Kamal moved in thirteen years ago. The couple shares one great philosophy per home design: Anything goes, so long as we love it and it fits. This starts with the home’s outer shell.

“We call it Naples in New Jersey,” Dee says in the delicate remains of a Lebanese accent that tinkles like bells when she describes house, home, art, and amenity. “On a visit to Naples, we found homes that would help bring the outside in. We brought Naples here. Why not? This was our favorite design, amended by the architect to facilitate a tricky roofline. Inside, it’s definitely eclectic. We worked on finding the perfect spot for the things we love.” Porsen Jaw is the architect, but Dee became hands-on designer,carefully selecting furniture and artwork, and she hand painted the molding in the great hall, twenty-some feet in the air, on a scaffold, like Michael Angelo.  

In the front entrance overlooking the great hall, one of Dee’s dream pieces lies in the flooring: an inlaid tile mosaic that arrived from Italy in five sections. “It’s one of those pieces where you tell the architect, ‘Design around this’.”

Two steps down into the great hall, you can get a breathless feel for the work Dee put into the molding. She hand-created the design of acanthus leaves, which she stained using a tea-based dye, climbing her scaffold daily until all five extensions were both uniformand hypnotic.While she considers this and other hand-crafted pieces in the house “labors of love,” she said it really wasn’t complete for seven or eight years after the move in. On the dining room wall above the piano is a Renaissance painting of three muses. Behind it hangs an Italian chandelier of gold and crystal, purchased in an antique house. The dining room table, which seats twelve, features ornate pedestals reminiscent of the 18th century English claw-andball feet era. The breakfront, handmade, copied the inlay on the dining room table.

The house was designed so that almost every room has a view of the pool and what lies beyond. The master bedroom catches the sunrise across the meadows, to which Dee says she enjoys arising every morning. The suite carries the tradition of 12-foot ceilings featured in rooms surrounding the Great Hall, and it also features an octagon “reading area” posh with soft rugs and tapestry-woven chairs. The bedside lamps are Greek, antique finds featuring twin goddesses of life and knowledge. The master bath features sufficient eye-catchers that the sunken tub is actually eclipsed. Dee found a “Sleeping Beauty” Kohler sink with ornate descending vines on a mauve pallet. She decided to have a local artist paint the columns behind the tub similarly. Between the painted vines and what’s growing into the courtyard outside the picture window, the room exudes peace.

Many rooms in the house breathe with light tranquility; there’s a peaceful energy that is almost unmatchedwithinwalls of today’s busy and trampled homes. The exception may be the kitchen. The Kassis kitchen bears all evidence of a hard-working caterer in residence. Dee uses the giant island regularly, such that its sheer volume no longer amazes her, though the fact that she was able to get “one solid sheet of granite” that’s eight feet long and maybe six feet wide” can still make her smile. The island is six-sided, designed to match the shape of the room, which flows into the family room area on one side and a glass pedestal dinette

“By the windows. Behind the island lie the six-burner stove, two ovens, Sub-zero fridge and freezer. For parties Dee often hires a bar tender as opposed to a caterer, and she serves through the wet bar, adjoining the dining room, great hall, and kitchen. The largest compilation of smile-inducing eclectics would be found in Kamal’s home office, one of the few rooms overlooking the courtyard. He’s had breakfronts built to store some collections, one of which is antique model cars, which he assembled on rainy weekends. Twelve cars have their own perfectly-sized compartment in the breakfront. Beside some sit smaller versions of antique cars, maybe thirty, neatly arranged on shelves and protected with glass. A bust of Shakespeare on a pedestal looks over the inlaid desk and the shelves of books and man-toys.

With two more guest rooms featuring antiques of varying and interesting passages, you’d think you’d seen it all. But you still haven’t seen the best. The top feature of the Kassis home is the out of doors. Many rooms feature a door to the pool, another six-sided affair like the kitchen island, this time to match the shape of the outside back of the house. Three waterfalls cascade into it, one from the hot tub above. These seats are more precious than a front row ticket to any concert. Beyond the pool area is an extensive back yard, all green and trees and bloom.

And beyond that are the meadows. And beyond that are the bays. And beyond that are Brigantine, Atlantic City, Ventnor. There’s a ten-mile panorama, at least, that on a clear day looks like a colorful row of kid’s construction blocks on sky-blue construction paper. It’s a scene where you see the horizon first, and once you catch your breath, you notice the inward glory.

“The yard bed is stellar green, rife with blooms of hibiscus, gladiolas, impatiens, bleeding hearts— splashes of color tossed by the angels across a pixie-green mile. One tree sits in the center that Dee made sure no one cut when the property was cleared. It looks like the Tree of Life in the best of the artists’ renditions, and in the leafy sunny summer, it sings constantly with finches, robins, martins, mockers, starlings, cardinals and blues. “It’s an apartment complex,” Dee laughs as two robins flyout andjoina finchtoroostonaberrybush. ”

Dee recently retired from nursing and is packing their youngest daughter off to college in the fall. “I just want to stay home!” she says. As for who will keep her company this far off the road while Kamal works: “The peacefulness will be my company all day. Everywhere in our home, the most important sensation is the peace.