Ode To A Kitchen
photo by Leela Cyd
I’ve never really told you much about my kitchen. Strange considering most of the creations that appear on this blog originate in this little room.
My kitchen is small and humble. White-walled. At first glance you’d probably shrug your shoulders and think something between ‘meh’ and ‘well this would be charming if Joy would consider doing her dishes’.
When I tell you that I’ve created two cookbooks, hundreds of Joy the Baker blog posts, and cooked for catering events in this kitchen you’d probably want to pat me on the back and pour us both a shot of bourbon. Sooo… yea.
The dishes pile up quickly. The oven is small and earnest. The refrigerator holds two bottles of ketchup and little else. It’s hip, and really… it’s never encountered a cook like me. Flour and butter everywhere!!
I’m leaving this little space soon and headed to New Orleans. It’s always a bit of a brain-bend to leave the space where you’ve created so much. There’s something sacred about those spaces. I want to share it with you before we go.
On the main kitchen shelf are a few of my favorite everyday staples. From left to right: Homemade Bourbon Vanilla Extract, Vanilla Salt, Crushed Red Pepper Flakes (from the Indian market because they have the best and cheapest spices), Jacobsen Salt Co, Pasolivo Lemon Olive Oil, Turbinado Sugar for coffee times, Apple Cider Vinegar, Grey Sea Salt (I’m a baker that really likes salt), my best friend Rachel’s tiny pepper grinder that I borrowed then stole, lastly garlic.
This stove owes me nothing. It has baked, broiled, braised, roasted, and asked for nothing in return. It has also burnt a lot of toast… like a lot.
This is one of those petite ovens that can’t accommodate standard sized baking pans. Three years ago when I moved into this apartment I treated myself to three new, mini-sized baking sheets. I’m down to one baking sheet that’s not blackened beyond recognition. I’m nothing if not totally fancy.
Next to the stove is the mixing station…. also know as the walls that have been splattered with tomato sauce from the stove and flour flying from the KitchenAid mixer. Things get messy.
Above the sink is this frosted window. It’s best for starting off into space while the dish water gets warm. It’s best for daydreaming while water for tea boils. It’s best for growing plants in water.
My mom got me this Crabtree and Evelyn Hand Cream for Christmas and it’s smells light fancy grandmothers and feels like luxury.
The coffee counter doubles as the cats jumping counter. I have a No Cats On The Counter Policy at my house. Strictly enforced. I happen to live with a furry land shark so…. he gets away with a lot.
Also you’re not a food blogger if you don’t have paper straws and little wooden ice cream spoons.
None of the food pictures on my blog came from my actual kitchen space. The kitchen is just where all of the measuring and zesting happens. This little corner of my living room has turned into my office and photo area. Just one cookbook and lots and lots of blog posts in this little corner spot. These windows have been my lucky charms.
Also Jon who helped me hold up melting ice cream for my upcoming cookbook…. also a lucky charm.
photo by Leela Cyd
It feels sad to say goodbye to this space. Where there is an end there is a beginning, and I’m excited to see what creations emerge from my new kitchen space. New light. New sounds. More doughnuts. Lots of burnt toast.
I’m glad you and I could say goodbye to this little space together.
This week on the blog will be notes from a road trip. You and I are saying goodbye to this kitchen, hitting the road, and then unpacking a new kitchen… except you don’t really have to unpack any thing at all. I’m not one of those bloggers who makes advanced posts, invites guests bloggers, or has fancy contributors. This blog is still just me as the one who makes cookies, takes pictures of them, does the dishes, writes silly words, and tries to answer emails. It’s just regular. Sometimes regular is driving across the country… so let’s just do that for a bit before we get back in the kitchen.