What happened to the kitchens? Melissa and I recently went through our own home search. We have been to new and older houses, some nice and some . . . . ehhhh. In our price range it seems that builders neglect this important detail. One house, pretty decent otherwise, had a kitchen suitable only for microwaving a frozen lasagna and plugging in a Mr. Ice Tea Man:
Melissa: "If we can't comfortably cook a three-course dinner for four to six people, it's not an option."
Real Estate Agent: "Ummm. Ok. Is that something you guys do often?"
Off we went. On to the next nice house with not-nice kitchen overflowing with electrical sockets but lacking room on the counter for pie dough and no possibility for safely maneuvering a heavy stock pot filled with hot stew.
In my experience the kitchen is an important place of gathering. The most enjoyable times in my week are when Melissa and I cook at the house. The background sounds of the restaurant and the repartee of cursing line cooks are replaced by light music, the sound of a knife chopping, and the sizzle of a saute pan. With a nice glass of wine alongside my cutting board we buzz around each other having warm conversation. It is way better than heating up frozen chicken pot pie and watching the Food Network from the couch.
From Shandon, Rosewood, Earlewood, and points beyond we traveled and turned our snooty elitist kitchen noses up to the sky. I think our journey has finally come to an end. We stumbled upon Keenan Terrace, a small neighborhood close to Earlewood, which holds many 1940s bungalows that have remarkably good-sized kitchens and loads of charm. Plus, we'll have five mature pecan trees to harvest, for pecan pie year-round.
I can't wait to cook our first meal in the house--I think it will be some sort of homey goodness that will reflect the charm of the house and my mood at the time. I can assure you that the first drink in the house will be a bottle of bubbles to calm my shaking hands after closing. Pictures of our first meal as homeowners forthcoming.
It probably will be duck, that first meal. There's something about duck that always satisfies.
Hey Tim! Mike from Rowell's Inn here, as you may have guessed. Just saw your mom and dad last night, and they told me about this blog. Read most of it, can't wait to catch up on the archives. Your Dad said you may visit in the winter, hopefully we will see you then.
I would love to try the bestecca fiorentina, but don't have a prayer of getting that cut. I will try the vodka, since I had no idea it was so easy. Getting ready for my busy time, cooking 16 out of the next 20 nights. C ya soon.