Kitchen Confidential

Up Until Yesterday, My New Kitchen Scared Me.

We opened our renovated kitchen for limited business on January first. Technically, it was finished before Christmas, only Sam and I were afraid to use it. We waited until we got back from our family vacation before tiptoeing around the stove and putting a few things in the refrigerator. Everything was so pristine that it was terrifying. We envisioned gouges in the Corian counters and scuffs on the hardwood floor. The new appliances loomed like stainless steel leaps of faith.

Over time, we have slowly broken the kitchen in. Still I, in particular, dance gingerly around the its edges.

Last night, the family was here, and Micah was making burgers. Should he use the griddle on the stove or the grill outside? My vote was for the grill, but he was doing the cooking, so I let the chips fall where they may. He settled on the griddle, and took out the ground chuck he’d bought, a meat known for its ability to splatter. His girlfriend Olivia chopped and caramelized two huge onions, resulting in onion smell and more splatter. Tomatoes were sliced with a dangerously serrated knife, and cheese with residual Corian-sticking power was added. Things were getting hectic, and I found myself chugging a beer to calm myself down.

Then, dinner was served. The burgers were apparently delicious, though as a vegetarian, I can only surmise. Definitely they were messy, and people were waxing rhapsodic about them. Eleven of us ate, crammed around the dining room table, while I tried to ignore the gruesome aftermath in the kitchen. I kept seeing it out of the corner of my eye. I itched to clean it up, to restore it to its virginal status, make it smell like ammonia and Mrs. Meyer’s instead of seared fat and onions.

I was about to start the restoration process when all those empty plates and happy faces gave me pause. A kitchen is about form and function. What is the point of creating a beautiful space that doesn’t work? My happy family gathered at the table is the most important work of the kitchen, and the least I could do was sit back down and gratefully savor its efforts.