Thursday, February 7, 2013

An open and shut case...

I went to see my new Doctor.
Recently relocated from Chicago, he said he felt "claustrophobic" in his temporary housing. Given I want him to be happy, I probed further. Finally he confessed...
"I miss my open kitchen."

For years we've watched 
as friends knocked down 
walls to "open things up". 
Finally it was our turn.
Our Dallas apartment 
had a fabulous open kitchen. 
And given they were all the rage, 
we could not wait
to entertain out in the open. 
However, after hosting 
only a few soirees, 
I came to this conclusion.
We hated everything about
our beautiful open kitchen!
This cultural phenomena makes absolutely no sense to me. There's bound to be a mess unless you only reheat take out. So... why set a lovely table,
only to have your guests
dine in full view of a   
putrid mound of debris?

And... what does one
do with the help?
I am not be Lord Grantham, 
but sometimes I like to hire 
someone to cook and serve. 
In a glamorous open kitchen, 
what are they to do?
 Stare from behind the counter, 
chat up your guests, 
or clang the pots in full view?!

Maybe I'm 
old fashioned.
But our new Lewistown kitchen will not be open.
Of course there will be a lovely island. And yes,  a few close friends and family members may be allowed to sit and sip a glass of vino while I tend to stirring the soup.
However, most of our guests will be served beyond the swinging door.
They simply have no place in my kitchen.

Welcome to civilization.
Elegant cocktails will be 
created behind the scenes 
in our Butlers Pantry. 
Then served on silver trays 
to beloved guests seated 
in the living room. 
There in that elegant oasis, 
nobody will see me 
squeeze, shake, or stir.
Once dinner is called, we'll 
adjourn to the dining room.
A perfectly set table will 
welcome and delight.
Each course will be served,
then whisked away.
No mounds of porcelain.
No scrapping of plates.
No gurgling disposals. 
Our guests will be treated with respect.

What happens in the kitchen stays in the kitchen.
You see, an evening at our house 
will be all about them!
No buffets on the island. 
No one will utter "help yourself".
No "easy to clean up" menus.
Physically defining "church
and state" honors one's guests.
We all have kitchens.
And most of us cook in them.
So... why shouldn't we 
pamper and indulge our guests
when they come to visit?

Sermon over.  
Now go back to sipping your cup of coffee 
in your fabulous and pristine open kitchen!

And no, I don't have any idea why that man is sitting naked in his kitchen.