On the perfect kitchen

It will, no doubt, surprise you to learn that I have developed a passion for jam making. And also relishes. And pickles. Having been introduced to the magic of the Modern Preserver Kylee Newton by my good friend JoJo, I am working my way diligently through the book. Oh my, the deliciousness of apricot and amaretto jam. Fig and ginger relish. Made from our very own figs. And gherkins pickled in beer. Tappz beer made by Dan, the son of Della and Mark who grew said gherkins in their well-stocked potager. The sun has decided to shine. Bees are buzzing. Birds are singing. And the lonely mallard has stayed so long that he now has a name: Jean Luc Canard… Geddit?

It’s all too bucolic, no? Well, yes. Except for the kitchen. Which looks fine enough and engenders lots of admiring comments. Indeed, it is fine. On the surface. But that’s the problem. A sorry dearth of surfaces. There is nowhere to put anything down.

Argh.

Don’t get me started on the contortions required to get something out from the back of the cupboards. And there are precious few cupboards. We still have stuff, everyday useful stuff, in large plastic boxes. Six of them. Stacked to one side of the room. Bottles and jars jostle precariously on a narrow ledge to either side of the sink. They have to be wiped regularly owing to the usual workings of a kitchen, which I find particularly annoying as they should all be safely and cleanly stowed in a cupboard. Or better yet, one of those pull-out lads that enables you to see all of them at a glance.

Sigh.

And there should be drawers. Lots of drawers. Lovely big capacious drawers for all the pots and pans. And dishes, baking paraphernalia and other stuff. You know, like jam and pickle making equipment.

Deep sigh.

Oh, a glass-fronted cupboard too, for all the crockery and glassware. A well-scrubbed wooden table with room enough for a marble inset for making the pastry on. Ooh, a wine fridge. Perfect. Plenty of workspace beside the stove. And plenty of space beside the sink… a double sink in a material that’s easy to keep clean. I don’t know what the current one is made of. Or what’s happened to it. It never, ever looks clean despite all our efforts.

Deepest sigh.

The oven and fridge should not be beside each other, though we are still in love with the Liebherr fridge. And remain delighted with the De Deitrich oven, notwithstanding its propensity to play fast and loose with temperature. Baking in it is most definitely an art.

The cupboard for storing dry goods should not be located below the oven and hug the floor so closely that it’s necessary to lie down completely to see into the back of the bottom shelf. I haven’t looked into it for fully half a year. I dread to think what I might find lurking there.

In fact, there should be a pantry, scullery, back-kitchen, or whatever you want to call it. With shelves one-jar deep, lining one whole wall, and well-stocked with all sorts of deliciousness. And lots of storage for other stuff. Because there is always other stuff. It would be cool… as in not warm. But, yeah, also cool.

There would be room for more than one person to work comfortably. All would flow seamlessly. All necessary equipment would be to hand. Never would we be in each other’s way. Never would I be left standing in the middle of the room, holding an excruciatingly hot pot and have nowhere to place it. Nothing would be grey, if it could conceivably be avoided. Some allowances have to be made for appliance-manufacturers’ lack of courage. We love the style of Studio Berdoulat.

This would be the most functional kitchen in the world. And the most beautiful. For what is one without the other? This is, after all, la cuisine du Petit Manoir des Rêves.

A bientôt