i remember when i was remodeling my kitchen and i could just like, do literally whatever i wanted. i removed a stupid wall. i set it all up like a commercial micro-kitchen. wire racks, floating stainless steel shelves on a french cleat system, no fucking cabinets, small fridge (by US standards), ingredients all in clear/labeled containers, hooks and magnetic strips for tools/implements, stainless tables with lower shelves. laminated ratio sheets for common staples. i considered getting a lowboy even (lol), but my small fridge was totally fine and so cheap. i didn’t have an exact endgame in mind, but at each step the next priority would be obvious.
it was cheap (i did the work, but also materially very economical), easy to clean, and the common processes of food prep had a smoothness that made cooking food and cleaning up relaxing.
i even got a 4-top booth from a restaurant supply catalog to put into the awkward nook, turning it into a chill hang spot for guests. that’s probably the one thing that no one could argue with, because it was too slick.
and like, a recurring thought was that ZERO of my exes would have ever accepted the design principles, because it didn’t fit their HGTV-themed imaginaries where “ideal” kitchens are designed by people who sell kitchens to people who look at kitchens, instead of people who use kitchens, brought to you by Home Depot™️.
i had to, for better or worse, move for work but i had that flexible set up for a year and there were a few reorganizations/iterations as i refined it further and now i am eager to bring back those principles of functionality once i find my “yeap, gonna die here” place.
and, sure, it’s totally possible that i could meet someone who shares my appreciation for function with the exact same hip height and reach as me, but i now know the sweet agility of having absolute control over a highly functional space and using that power to make it optimal for me to function in it.
i remember showing it off to a friend of mine who is like a big deal chef and he was like, “omg, sick… [spouse] would never let me do this.”
i remember when i was remodeling my kitchen and i could just like, do literally whatever i wanted. i removed a stupid wall. i set it all up like a commercial micro-kitchen. wire racks, floating stainless steel shelves on a french cleat system, no fucking cabinets, small fridge (by US standards), ingredients all in clear/labeled containers, hooks and magnetic strips for tools/implements, stainless tables with lower shelves. laminated ratio sheets for common staples. i considered getting a lowboy even (lol), but my small fridge was totally fine and so cheap. i didn’t have an exact endgame in mind, but at each step the next priority would be obvious.
it was cheap (i did the work, but also materially very economical), easy to clean, and the common processes of food prep had a smoothness that made cooking food and cleaning up relaxing.
i even got a 4-top booth from a restaurant supply catalog to put into the awkward nook, turning it into a chill hang spot for guests. that’s probably the one thing that no one could argue with, because it was too slick.
and like, a recurring thought was that ZERO of my exes would have ever accepted the design principles, because it didn’t fit their HGTV-themed imaginaries where “ideal” kitchens are designed by people who sell kitchens to people who look at kitchens, instead of people who use kitchens, brought to you by Home Depot™️.
i had to, for better or worse, move for work but i had that flexible set up for a year and there were a few reorganizations/iterations as i refined it further and now i am eager to bring back those principles of functionality once i find my “yeap, gonna die here” place.
and, sure, it’s totally possible that i could meet someone who shares my appreciation for function with the exact same hip height and reach as me, but i now know the sweet agility of having absolute control over a highly functional space and using that power to make it optimal for me to function in it.
i remember showing it off to a friend of mine who is like a big deal chef and he was like, “omg, sick… [spouse] would never let me do this.”