Kitchen Shangri-La

As a single-ish woman living in an urban setting by herself usually means a tiny studio apartment and a pathetic strip of a kitchen in a high rise apartment commplex. That's not me. Actually, I have a spacious one bedroom unit in the first floor of a funky blue three unit townhouse, complete with a space for a veggie garden. My landlord is an aging hippie who lives on the second floor with his gardening fanatic ex-hippie girlfriend, and the other unit is occupied by a very nice older gay man, who is also a gardening fanatic.  We are an eclectic friendly household.  The landlord's nephew redid my unit recently... think heated tile floors in the bathroom, a shower with two heads and two side jets, tile floors, a million recessed lights, and a kitchen the size of most people's bedrooms.



All of this rambling is just my excitement in finding something my personal Kitchen Shangri-La. The time I spend at home is split mostly between my kitchen and sleeping in the bedroom. I believe kitchens should be designed to entice you to cook.  This means counterspace.  Keep your basics visable.  I keep my spices out because I like to be able to see them all when crafting a new recipe. Boy has the worst spice set up in the world, which doesn't allow him to see his spices... which leads to him owning 3 of the same spice because he worries he doesn't have something. Its endearing. But its also frustrating, which led us on the epic space rack hunt of aught six. Haha, joking. But in all seriousness, it makes a difference. It allows for inspiration. It allows for improvisation. It ain't gotta be pretty.


Its the same reason why I tend to use my vegetable criper sparingly, and keep my veggies lined up on the shelf. I'm a visual food improviser. I won't remember the wilted carrot (doh!) in the bottom of my drawer. Or the scrap of Vidalia onion begging to be thrown into a dip or camelized as a garnish.

Dry goods, like lentils, quinoa, wild rice, dried fruits and nuts have found a new home in my rotating kitchen island in clear mason jars.  Flour canisters are well labeled and organized for ease of use. 


Cans are bought fairly sparingly, none of this 300 cans of tomato paste hiding the one can of garbanzo beans. I try to shop like the average non-American person. Don't buy for a lifetime, buy for that week, or that few days. Sure, I could save a few cents by buying 30 cans of black beans when they go on sale, but by the time I get through them all, I'll be so sick of black beans, I'll have thrown the last two cans away in disgust. Keep one or two of the basics always on hand, and you'll be just fine.

The same goes for kitchen gadgets. A good mixer, blender, and coffee grinder for spices are all I need. I have one very very very nice set of all-clad stainless steel pans, a cast iron skillet, a steaming basket, one set of mixing bowls, a George Foreman grill, a few baking sheets, and a set of glass Pyrex dishes with tuppeware tops. That's about it. No bread machine. No hand whipper gidgits. No juicers. No fancy egg slicers. A good santoku knife and paring knife will get nearly every job done.

The joy of cooking in this kitchen has just opened up the possibilities... from canning to brewing beer to dinner parties, I have the space to do it all. The real test was when I had 4 people cooking and prepping in my kitchen all at the same time without getting in the way. I'm in love with a kitchen if that's possible.