What's a kitchen for, anyway?

Eleven years ago, I gut reno'd my kitchen. In a small-footprint, greenhouse galley kitchen, there's not much choice about what goes where, but I got to pick out all new: appliances, cabinetry, countertops flooring. Everything plus the kitchen sink. 

For colors, I went basic: gray and white, with an a pretty mid-turquoise as my accent color. You can't see much of that accent color in this pic, but there are other spots where there's more wall space. The accent color was dictated by my sister having given me a Caribbean blue Le Creuset Dutch oven. (That color is now discontinued, but not before I was able to acquire a large skillet and a small skillet. I love me my Le Creuset. Bonus feature: upper-body workout to lift it.) After I decided on the blue walls, I unearthed two decorative tiles I've been gifted with by some friends. They're above the stovetop, and have the same Caribbean blue in them.

The one mistake I made with my kitchen was not having a pull-out drawer for pots and pans. So every time I need to get out a pot or a pan or a lid, I have to unpile them from their shelves. I do keep the Dutch oven and large skillet on the stove top, as they are my most used items, and are probably used for a good 80% of my cooking. 

I keep a lot of stuff out.

All my utensils are contained in three decorative pitchers. I should weed out the ones I don't use and get that down to two, but it's fine for now. Flanking the stovetop, there's a spoon rest on both sides. 

I keep out my food processor, paper towel holder, knife rack, most-used salad bowls. Water bottles, and some aluminum cups - the old timey kind, which I like for drinking cold water out of. Trivets. A couple of small vases that I sometimes put a flower in. Sometimes. Cutting board(s), including the titanium one which I recently ordered after reading about how dangerous wood and plasticky ones are. I just haven't unboxed it yet.

Over my sink, I have a strainer, which is especially useful for washing fruits and veggies. 

Next to the stove there's a box of Kosher salt, which I use pretty much whenever I cook. 

Other stuff on my counters: toaster oven, bread box, electric tea kettle, tea caddy, a couple of mugs, my Keurig for the occasional coffee drinker stopping by, a few smallish bowls - various sizes, various uses. Salt and pepper shakers - some old timers that were my mother's. My recipe box.

In addition to the ones hanging in front of the oven, I typically have a few dishtowels, keeping them handy on the counter. 

Even though the kitchen is small, I like having things at the ready for when I need them. Who wants to go rooting around in their time of need?

I love my kitchen, and although it is now nearing its 11th birthday (this fall), I've never grown tired of it. And although I deliberately went with a never-in-style-never-out-of-style design, I still think of it as very up to date and modern.

Think again! 

In the country’s wealthiest enclaves, like New York City and Miami, concealment has become the defining aspect of the contemporary kitchen. What began with “appliance garages” and refrigerators and dishwashers that look like cabinets has evolved into a far more ambitious practice of disguise, with custom millwork and technology obscuring everything from sinks and cooktops to electrical outlets and small appliances...

Sharon Dranko, the former chief executive of Isla Porter cabinetry and a consultant for kitchen brands including Nobilia, said the rise of open-plan living has helped fuel the trend. “Kitchens are more open and visible than they used to be, so people want all the capability without every appliance becoming part of the aesthetic.” (Source: NY Times)

Never thought of it that way, but I guess my appliances and all that other kitchen stuff is part of my aesthetic.  

But if you're going with a luxe "hyper kitchen" - which will run into the hundreds of thousands of dollars, if not scooting above and beyond the million dollar mark - you want things hidden.

At one NYC design firm:

Its most popular offering is a marble island with a mechanized sliding countertop that glides open to reveal a sink and induction cooktop. Other pieces include cabinetry with retractable panels that completely obscure shelving, storage or appliances. 

OK. My trash can is hidden away in a pull-out drawer cabinet. And I known plenty of folks with Sub Zero refrigerators that have a cabinet front. But a hidden sink???? If I want to rinse some blueberries, the last thing I want to do is try to remember how to retract the "sliding countertop" to find the sink. 

As it turns out, a lot of these "hyper kitchens" aren't for use. They're for show, or for entertaining. Some of the folks that have them have secondary or even tertiary kitchens were the work of preparing food gets done. Plenty of them don't cook period. And if these modern kitchens are in second or third or infinity and beyond houses, they'd only be used a few weeks a year, anyway. 

One designer created a space with yet another hidden sink and cooktop:

The island portion features a sink and cooktop hidden by a retractable winged countertop that lifts and disappears into its body; the piece also incorporates A.I.-controlled lighting and voice activation. The refrigerator, oven and dishwasher are housed in a separate component: a massive box coated in metallic black lacquer. 

Because nothing says homey, says comfy cozy, like "a massive box coated in metallic black lacquer." 

The one thing I don't like about my kitchen - other than not having a pull-out drawer for pots and pans - is that there's no room for a table in it. No place to hang around in.

Some of my most cherished memories are of time spent in the kitchen.

Cups of sweet milky tea at the table in my grandmother's shambly old kitchen. (She never fully replaced the linoleum when it wore out, so her kitchen floor was a patchwork of unmatched pieces - red, yellow, green, gray - that she used to patch worn spots.) 

Until I was 6, we lived in a flat in my grandmother's three decker. The kitchen was so large (same footprint as Nanny's shambly kitchen, which was directly below it) that it doubled as the guest room, with a studio couch that opened up into two beds. 

Playing Canasta and Boggle around the table in my mother's crowded little kitchen. Endless cups of tea in my friend Marie's kitchen in Providence. (I did my kitchen reno the year after Marie died. She had a couple of kitchen renos under her belt and I'm sure she would have advised my about the pots and pans drawer!) Arguing (as adults!) about who was going to get to sit at the children's table - the kitchen table at my cousin Barbara's - when she hosted Christmas dinner. 

Cooking and socializing. Isn't that what a kitchen's supposed to be for?

Hyper - and hyper pricey - kitchens with everything hidden away? Phooey!!!