Working kitchens can be a thumbprint – even an EKG – of their users. A recent pictorial post by Lucy got tantalisingly close to revealing hers. Urged to cast aside the seventh veil she excused herself for various reasons, including one concerning an excess of bottles which I am compelled to sympathise with.
Anyway, in re. motes and beams, I am stripping away the Bondens’ seventh veil. Our kitchen is L-shaped, hence the two halves. This is of course Mrs BB’s territory but I enter it regularly to wash up, to perform certain unsavoury tasks beneath her notice and to provide dialogue when change is mooted.
1. Neff glass hob. Powerful, quick to react, speedily cleaned. Very expensive boon and benison.
2. Extractor fan cover. Changing filter paper is an “unsavoury task”.
3. Food processor. In teacosy-like snood.
4. Knife holster. All wood; large enough to accommodate sharpening steel.
5. Window blind. Awkward to remove; permanently at this level; decoration only.
6. Basil plant in pot. Just to brush past it is a delight.
7. “Monsieur Ariston” dishwasher. Used only by guests after dinner parties.
8. Foil and film dispensers. Literally indispensable.
9. Krups coffee percolator. Latest in long trudge towards perfection.
10. Spice rack. Compact and practical; not bought at novelties shop.
11. Microwave. Aged Panasonic; given the marque it should last for ever.
12. Cupboard. Converted from piddling nine-slot wine rack.
13. Brabantia touch-top garbage bin. Once you’ve touched you’ll never pedal.
14. Neff twin oven. Hyper-expensive; does everything; superb engineering detail.
Anyway, in re. motes and beams, I am stripping away the Bondens’ seventh veil. Our kitchen is L-shaped, hence the two halves. This is of course Mrs BB’s territory but I enter it regularly to wash up, to perform certain unsavoury tasks beneath her notice and to provide dialogue when change is mooted.
1. Neff glass hob. Powerful, quick to react, speedily cleaned. Very expensive boon and benison.
2. Extractor fan cover. Changing filter paper is an “unsavoury task”.
3. Food processor. In teacosy-like snood.
4. Knife holster. All wood; large enough to accommodate sharpening steel.
5. Window blind. Awkward to remove; permanently at this level; decoration only.
6. Basil plant in pot. Just to brush past it is a delight.
7. “Monsieur Ariston” dishwasher. Used only by guests after dinner parties.
8. Foil and film dispensers. Literally indispensable.
9. Krups coffee percolator. Latest in long trudge towards perfection.
10. Spice rack. Compact and practical; not bought at novelties shop.
11. Microwave. Aged Panasonic; given the marque it should last for ever.
12. Cupboard. Converted from piddling nine-slot wine rack.
13. Brabantia touch-top garbage bin. Once you’ve touched you’ll never pedal.
14. Neff twin oven. Hyper-expensive; does everything; superb engineering detail.
8 comments:
Beautiful kitchen. Good layout, lots of light, practically everything a cook could want, plenty of room for company while going about creating masterpieces.
I'd like one very similar to it.
:)
How fortunate for you that the ocean lies betwixt our two boiler rooms. I would crawl on broken glass to be able to brew in such a kitchen.
Mine reminds one of the dot on the letter i.
An interesting omission from your list is the toaster, bottom left hand corner. Chapter and verse please, unless of course it is the one item which you wish to remain behind and eighth veil.
And I'm interested in your paintings (or are they photographs?) in the right hand picture.
A beautiful, compact kitchen, I much admire it!
(I'm back, been off traipsing about the countryside of France for weeks on end, hence the long lack of comments!)
I like Neff. Mrs BB's kitchen is a good one, a place for everything.
As we are continuing to renovate our home, the kitchen still awaits transformation. I do not like it. An ORANGE 1980's gas hob, brown tiles and badly made cabinets.
Ps, Isabella had a pot of Basil...
The Crow: There is one defect: at the junction of the two legs of the L, where Mrs BB tends to work, too many cupboards carrying important everyday items surround her. OK for her, not for me when, say, laying the table.
RW (Zu Schwer): I love the "dot" sentence which proves that you're running what we in the UK call a micro-brewery. We could offer you the adjacent utility room but I suspect that brewing is too close to your heart for you to do it in such a humdrum space.
Plutarch: The toaster simply lacks character, hence its omission from the list. The only factoid I can recall is that it was bought when we made the decision to go from two slices to four slices. I was mildly surprised when Mrs BB told me it dates back to Kingston-upon-Thames.
Julia: Welcome back. We were worried but I don't know why; your track record proves you are perfectly capable of manhandling your destiny. And that you have a sharp eye. To answer your question I had to check with Mrs BB who discourages casual and (especially) facetious remarks about her on this blog. The two paintings are by her; she started painting two or three years ago and we both agreed her most recent stuff deserves public display.
HHB: Something tells me that if a Neff costs gold bars in the UK, it'll be up to platinum in WA. But it will reward you. During our search for the perfect oven Mrs BB had an infallible test: check the knobs, they're a veritable litmus paper for general shoddiness. Orange and brown! How can someone of your sensitivity work with that combination? The Pot of Basil - wasn't someone's head concealed in it? As if for one of the more recherché recipes from SW France.
Just as one might have suspected, a quite awesome kitchen. Glad I kept mine under wraps.
Your shed on the other hand is very picturesque!
Lucy: We may have awe but I'm convinced yours has character. Which makes your denial even harder to take.
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