Saturday, January 10, 2004

Home alone. . . . As much as I hate it when I lose my constant companion (and soon-to-be husband!) to these long wine-buying trips he goes on at least once a year, there is something nice about having the time to look around and contemplate who we are, separately and together, while I am home alone in the much quieter and emptier apartment.  So it's just the cat and me, here, sitting in the sun (thank god for these south-facing windows, because it is seriously cold, which is so rare here in Manhattan, and, you guessed it, still no heat working in here -- actually I'm surprised it isn't colder, because, while it is cold, it is in fact livable. . .).  She, the cat, is happy in the window, alternately watching "cat TV" (birds flying around outside past the window) and sleeping. I've got the paper spread out all around (if you get the Sunday NY Times this week, you MUST read Michael Pollan and the article about the "short-order Revolutionary." Pollan so well expresses how I feel about the mad cow incident and coverup; and the Farmer's Diner sounds so encouraging in a world where local dairies just cannot survive) and my laptop actually on my lap with my feet in a little patch of sun, which is streaming in and also bathing the rosemary plant we brought to the City for the winter from the garden upstate.  (Trying not to worry about the house up there; we left the heat on and drained the pipes upstairs and our neighbor is checking on things from time to time. . .I guess no news is good news at the moment! it must be dangerously cold up there if we have single digits in the City). I was also reading some of my favorite weblogs this morning, and Leah's post, thinking about how to improve her Bungalow Kitchen, got me thinking about how much we've done with ours here in the apartment.  I wish I could get a picture of it, but words will have to do. . . our kitchen is literally the hallway that connects the two big rooms that make up the living space in this apartment (we have the top floor of a brownstone that has been divided into three separate apartments).  The kitchen is all ranged along one wall, opposite the entrance door -- fridge (we have a full-size fridge, something ofa luxury in Manhattan!), counter, stove (gas, thank goodness), more counter, then sink -- all in a row along one wall of the hallway.  There are cabinets above, cabinets below the counters, and that's it!  Needless to say, we have had to figure out ways in which we can not only work in this space but also use it to store all of our many and much-beloved cooking tools, not to mention a week's worth of food (since there is no good shopping within walking distance, and it's a bit too much of a schlep from the subway to carry more than fill-in groceries back, we drive to Fairway Market once a week).  Living in Manhattan is full of its own special challenges. . . !  Not to mention that we rent, so we couldn't do anything expensive and/or permanent. Not that I mean to denigrate the work the builders did when they rennovated, since the kitchen space was actually fine for one person, or even for two who weren't such dedicated cooks . . . but as soon as I moved in, with my food processor and toaster and cookware to add to Philippe's bread box and blender and 20 pound bag of rice, it was clear something had to be done.  Major cupboard cleaning and reorganizing took place, and gradually the kitchen has taken shape (not to mention that many of the duplicate items, which we couldn't bear to throw away, have been taken up to our house.  I'm still not sure how we stil manage to have So Much Stuff, but there it is.) Limited counter space on the real counters means that most of the appliances (with the exception of the coffee pot, of course) HAVE to go in the cupboard down below.  All the baking stuff, goes down there too,  and we've gotten used to pulling out the toaster, Cuisinart, mixer, etc. when we need to use them.  No "out of sight, out of mind" allowed here! But the niftiest two things are cheap solutions that came from IKEA, the store we all love to hate, but which still provides their advertised "solutions for living" with some added creativity!.  On the wall opposite the counter line-up, we put up a folding table that can serve as additional counter space but fold away most of the time so the hallway isn't blocked.  It serves as a pastry counter, a prep station (at least for me -- since it is lowish and I'm short I can chop there) a plating station, and a place I can clamp the pasta maker.  It makes it possible for two people to work together in the kitchen, as long as they don't mind squeezing around each other a bit (and hey, it makes it convenient for giving those little passing squeezes!).  This was Solution Number One. Solution Number Two came later, after we'd had some time to accumulate MORE cooking gadgets together (as one is wont to do. . . did I mention I broke down and got a Microplane while I was on an unchaperoned mission to Bed Bath and Beyond for the space heater last week? ;-)).  The piles of pots under the sink were getting out of control, and we could NEVER find a place to put the pesky cheese grater. So, back to IKEA, where we found a bar that mounts on the wall and with the addition of many s-hooks serves as a pot-and gadget rack.  Now all the (lighter) saute pans, sauce pans, strainers, the wok (that thing was taking up WAY too much space!) and, yes, the cheese grater, hang there, along with a wire basket that suspends onions, garlic, and shallots conveniently above the cat's dish (a new way to terrorize the cat!  pitching garlic skins into her bowl while she's trying to drink!).  So this weird space has become a kitchen I can almost love, or which I guess I do love because it is mine, and I know how to work in it.  Most of the pots and gadgets are hanging in sight; most of the cooking utensils are in a crock just by the stove.  You can see almost everything you need and if you don't, just open the lower cabinets and you'll see everything else.  I am continually amazed at how we've managed to make a real cook's kitchen in this awkward  space.  It has truly evolved into a "workshop" in its own way, over time. Another example of the lesson I am learning more and more from the experience of having a house to fix up -- that sometimes the best solutions are arrived at progressively, as the need for them arises. It must be very difficult to "design" a kitchen all at once, before it is being used on such a daily basis. Now, if only I could come up with a solution for storing the spices (which are in the high cupboard above the stove, so if things slide too far back I have to get the stepstool out, which means sometimes I buy things I already had but was too lazy to look for). . . .hm, that sounds like a lovely afternoon project to do while I simmer up some chicken stock (Chicken backs are $.29/lb at Fairway!) and bake cookies (thanks to another Meg for this recipe, which resembles one I've been searching for for years) in an attempt to stay warm. . . .   1:58:16 PM    comment []