Thursday, April 01, 2004
small wonder
This kitchen was designed with a six foot five tall sandwich maker in mind.
The counter space, just enough to set condiments to the left of the sink, a small cutting board to the right. Equally stingy cabinets overhead open so that the edge of a door finds the front of this short person's forehead.
Neither spacious, nor logical - this room - that should be the heart of the house appears as an architectural afterthought. Did the occupants in 1939 not cook? Or have the years of modernization bastardized the space from a once efficient room into a place just to put a stove? It's hard to tell.
Yet I manage to feed myself and quite a few others out of this tiny space where preparing most meals requires the juggling skill of a circus
performer combined with the spatial reasoning of a closet organizer.
On occassion, I have packed more friends than a fire department would allow into the party of my kitchen. Food flying everywhere, plates piled precariously on the sandwich sized counter, glasses stacked on the stove, a make shift bar on top of the microwave. And no one is ever in a hurry to leave.
Accustomed now to the imaginery sign above the door that reads: "Capacity of 1" I can't fathom the possibility of cooking in a larger kitchen with miles of counter tops. I suspect I would be lost for awhile and might be tempted to grab a tv tray and set up shop in the walkin pantry. No, I'm used to this goofy little cooking space. It works for me and the sandwiches.
The counter space, just enough to set condiments to the left of the sink, a small cutting board to the right. Equally stingy cabinets overhead open so that the edge of a door finds the front of this short person's forehead.
Neither spacious, nor logical - this room - that should be the heart of the house appears as an architectural afterthought. Did the occupants in 1939 not cook? Or have the years of modernization bastardized the space from a once efficient room into a place just to put a stove? It's hard to tell.
Yet I manage to feed myself and quite a few others out of this tiny space where preparing most meals requires the juggling skill of a circus
performer combined with the spatial reasoning of a closet organizer.
On occassion, I have packed more friends than a fire department would allow into the party of my kitchen. Food flying everywhere, plates piled precariously on the sandwich sized counter, glasses stacked on the stove, a make shift bar on top of the microwave. And no one is ever in a hurry to leave.
Accustomed now to the imaginery sign above the door that reads: "Capacity of 1" I can't fathom the possibility of cooking in a larger kitchen with miles of counter tops. I suspect I would be lost for awhile and might be tempted to grab a tv tray and set up shop in the walkin pantry. No, I'm used to this goofy little cooking space. It works for me and the sandwiches.
# posted by aj @ 9:55 AM 
