Homemaking Series: The Joy of the Kitchen

       On the wall at the right a strip of board ran the whole length and in it were driven nails on which to hang dishpans, dish towels, colanders and other kitchen utensils....The wall was shelved the whole length. The top shelf was only a short space from the ceiling, and from it down, spaces between the shelves were wider until there was room for tall pitchers and other dishes to stand on the lower shelf. Beneath the lowest shelf was a row of drawers as well made and fitted as boughten furniture. There was a large wide drawer that already held a sack of white flour, a smaller on with graham flour, another with corn meal, a large shallow one for packages, and two others: one already filled with white sugar and the other with brown.

                                    The First Four Years - Laura Ingalls Wilder

In a homemaking series it seems remiss of me not to talk about the kitchen, otherwise known as 'the heart of the home', because so very much of our 'making' occurs here everyday. Not only do we love our kitchens for the sustenance and comfort that they help us provide on a daily basis (often several times a day!) but also for the space that they represent. They are a place of work and dedication, where one can be as creative - both in the food produced and the actual layout and decor - as one chooses to be. It is ten o'clock here and in my kitchen I have already made a loaf of wholemeal bread, chocana muffins (chocolate chips and banana) and sausage rolls for lunches.  My sewing skills are below par and I can't knit, but I can cook and baking is one of my favourite ways to "homemake."

We renovated our kitchen in 2017 and I couldn't be happier with the layout. I have a large L-shape bench where the children sit for their breakfast every morning and where much of my baking takes place. For me, bench space is important. The cupboards are "boughten furniture" but they do the job and hold the appliances, crockery and other kitchen bits that we need. At the end of last year I de-cluttered and got rid of things that were no longer serving their purpose. This meant more appliances could be tucked away, freeing up bench space for work. 

In her article "The Pressure to Make Domestic Work Invisible," Leah Libresco Sargeant talks about how modern kitchens are designed to be "pretty and seamless," a move away from the more functional and traditional work space it always used to be. I suppose this works for some people who prefer a modern life of take-aways or eating meals outside the home, but for the majority of us who and live in and create in our homes, this would not only be highly inconvenient but also, I imagine, incredibly frustrating. I am one who likes order and cleanliness in the kitchen, but I need it to be aesthetically pleasing too. The black and white cupboards are timeless and the decor of willow pattern china and copper jelly moulds, flowers and small plants on the window will, a radio, well-used tea towels, are all part of an aesthetic that makes me happy and welcomes me and others into the space. It has taken me a while, but I have embraced the idea of "wabi-sabi" in the kitchen. I used to despair about the sauce and food that stained and flecked my stove top kettle, which I could never scrub clean. I even considered buying a new, shiny one! Then I remembered wabi-sabi and saw housework, memories, life, family and home-cooked meals in that perfectly imperfect kettle. If you're not sure what wabi-sabi is, then I recommend you check out Roby Griggs Lawrences' article 

Broadly, wabi-sabi is everything that today’s sleek, mass-produced, technology-saturated culture isn’t. It’s flea markets, not shopping malls; aged wood, not swank floor coverings; one single morning glory, not a dozen red roses. Wabi-sabi understands the tender, raw beauty of a gray December landscape and the aching elegance of an abandoned building or shed. It celebrates cracks and crevices and rot and all the other marks that time and weather and use leave behind. To discover wabi-sabi is to see the singular beauty in something that may first look decrepit and ugly.

I think this applies perfectly to the modern way of thinking about kitchens. I agree with Leah Libresco Sargeant when she claims that more of the housework that we do each day should not be hidden away, as if we are ashamed of the work that we do.  Likewise, the images we share on social media are ones of the kitchen, not in a state of use and disorder, but clean and ordered. Why do we do this? Wouldn't it better to show the kitchen doing what it is meant to do? I wonder sometimes what we think (what I think) when we post only the "pretty and seamless." Enjoy below a very normal image of us having morning tea on any given weekend. A second hand biscuit tin with the sticker stain still on it, mismatched cups, hand-knitted tea pot stand, books and lots of enjoyment. 

This reminds of the passage from Jennifer L. Scott's bestseller "Lessons From Madame Chic":

    Famille Chic's kitchen was purely functional. While many modern kitchens boast granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, and espresso makers, Famille Chic's kitchen was tiny and quite dated. Its main function was to turn out meals (albeit spectacular meals).

It seems that the Europeans haven't let go of this idea of a functional, working kitchen. One of my favourite Instagram accounts is Pasta Grannies, which shows the grandmothers of Italy in their kitchens making pasta. And judging by their 600,000 + following, many others are interested in watching their nonnas work in the kitchen, not simply present one that is pretty or seamless. In fact, that seems like the very last thing on their mind. In her article, What the Pasta Grannies Can Teach Us About Kitchen Design, Womanhood and What We Really Need Paige Rien, also reflects on how some of us have been misled by the modern concept of shiny and new equates to better. It should serve as a reminder that kitchens are a place of joy. They deserve to be clean and orderly, but they should also be heralded for the wonderful places of work and creation that they really are. 

For many years I had the letters ENJOY up above the kitchen door but recently the N fell down and broke. I took the other letters down and thought that that was that. But now, I think I may put up the letters JOY and be reminded everyday of the JOY that takes place in my kitchen. 

Where do you stand on the kitchen front? Do you prefer new and and seamless, or are you content with a hard-working, slightly imperfect kitchen? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Have a wonderful day friends!

Kirsty xo