Posted on October 20 2011

My kitchen rant

The thing about this baking project means more time spent in the kitchen.  While I don’t like the surplus of dirty dishes these days, I do love the solitary world of baking.  It’s pretty therapeutic in there, oscillating between my own thoughts and focusing on the recipe at hand.  I mean, it is fun to bake with people sometimes, but then you have to divvy up responsibilities.  I was always the kid who wanted to do it all, and when friends came over to bake cookies they probably left feeling a bit bummed that I hogged the majority of the fun responsibilities.  “I’ll use the hand mixer and you can rinse out the bowl when I’m done, Amanda.  Yay!  We’re making cookies!”  I was that kid; not so much that adult.  Well, maybe a little bit. 

All of this time I’m spending in my kitchen would be one hundred percent amazing if I loved my kitchen.  Since we’ve moved back to Michigan we are slowly chipping away at home renovations, which as anyone knows, is such an ongoing process.  The house was built in 1884 and, literally, a billion projects have moved their way up the list of priorities.  So here I am, stuck in a dilapidated kitchen.  Don’t get me wrong, I love what we’re doing around here.  I love that the exterior of our house is no longer four different colors, that we can walk up our front steps without endangering our lives, and that we have a fence now which serves two purposes.  That fence keeps our child and dog in our yard, as well as keeping the throngs of neighbors seeking iPod chargers and attempting to just walk into our house at bay.  Yeah, I like all those things very much. 

Let’s just lay it all out on the table (the dining room table of course, because there’s no room in the kitchen).  Major gripes:  Floor, counters, cupboards, choice of tile back splash, and the severe lack of counter space.  I like the refrigerator and the oven just fine.  The circus act of balancing bowls and pans and kitchen gadgets is the pits.

I’ve gone ahead and blurred things out like they do in tabloids when someone is wearing white after labor day or socks with sandals.  This kitchen of mine is one terrible fashion faux pas.    

It’s not like the state of my kitchen is impacting the food that’s coming out of it.  Cosmetic issues of old cupboards, less-than-perfect laminated floor tiles, and ugly back splash tiles behind the sink do not make a quiche taste differently, nor meringue peaks form in any different way.  It’s just boils down to the fact that I don’t think Ina, Martha or Elisabeth Prueitt herself would bake in such shabby conditions.  Straight up.     

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