Thē Nāked Spens: ˈBak ˈTü ˈBā-siks

While in the nostalgic culinary bubble about your dream kitchen, reality sets in—insert record scratch, followed by a pregnant pause. For those who've never actually seen a turntable, photos can be found in the Encyclopedia Britannica; for those unfamiliar with an encyclopedia, well...there's always Google. While it’s easy for us to envision a French, country chic kitchen that looks effortless, well-appointed, and the envy of any professional chef, we often must work with what is presently in front of us.

What is key here is the practicality of a kitchen... and there's nothing more exhausting than a combative one.

I believe a well-organized kitchen comes together in four layers: footprint, storage & organization, tools, and staples. We'll briefly cover the layers here and expand on them in subsequent posts. The most important aspect of any kitchen is—does it work for you? If not, what can you do to make it more functional? If you rent your home, a remodel isn't an option; if you own your home, a kitchen remodel can easily become the largest upgrade expense.

A kitchen that works for you will usher in an unexpected level of ease and enjoyment. Even if you can't change the footprint, you can redefine it. My home isn't large, and a floor plan remodel wasn't an option because of the expense. My current kitchen is a rather "slim" galley kitchen, so I quickly realized I had to recalibrate my "dream-kitchen" expectations and find a way to make the kitchen work for me. It's taken a lot of trial and error, to be sure, so I thought I'd share what worked and didn't work for me...bits of knowledge that apply to any kitchen. My hope is that by the end of this post, you can see your kitchen as a space where you can be creative and enjoy cooking, despite its shortfalls.

In reimagining my galley kitchen (what little there is), I first considered what would make the biggest impact on my culinary world. Second, could I make it more functional while staying budget-friendly and largely within my skill set? I identified a few things right away that would have a significant impact—the sink, the countertops, and storage.

The sink was a standard shallow two-basin metal sink with the most impractical low faucet. The disposal? Well, that sounded like a possum screaming in holy terror! I replaced my sink with a large stainless steel farmhouse sink—which you can bathe a toddler in (or a basset hound)—installed a high-arched faucet that afforded ease of movement and added a new garbage disposal—possum-free.

The existing countertops were 1995 Formica and rapidly approaching their third decade—very dated and unattractive. Have y'all checked on the cost of countertops in this century? I almost cried! But then I recalled a little dream of mine...beautiful, yet humble butcher block countertops. I know there are varying opinions on wood versus anything else. But to me, they're warm, welcoming, and best of all—functional. After a trip to my local Ikea, I was in the countertop business. I was also able to add two more feet of counter space, which increased storage. I topped it off with a simple tile backsplash that complemented the wood countertops. In the spirit of full disclosure, everything but the countertop was on sale, so I was able to update my little kitchen for roughly $700 in 2017, which would probably run closer to $1,000-$1,500 today, but still far more affordable than a full remodel.

Thankfully, the cabinets are in pretty good condition, because replacing them wasn't in the budget. But there was apparently a tree famine when mine were installed, because there simply aren't enough of them. I needed storage! The current cabinets are standard fare with space-hogging slide-out shelves in the lower cabinets. I'm not a fan.

Lower cabinet drawers are much more practical and will be in my dream kitchen. They allow for optimal storage space and are easier on the body. Let's face it, who really wants to get on their knees and dig everything out just for that one item in the very back of the bottom shelf?

On the matter of upper cabinets: "Saving the dishes"—Cajun speak for "putting something away"—on the second and third shelves simply wasn't working for me. My collection of glassware, dishes, and serving bowls takes up a lot of space. Given that I'm on the shorter side, reaching for the Mikasa Bone China was a challenge. Since I don't keep a doomsday-prepper's stash of canned and dry goods on hand, there was wasted space in the pantry. So, I repurposed it, and the pantry became the home for all my glass and dishware, and I stored the canned and dry goods in the upper cabinets.

Additionally, storing cookware in the oven isn't ideal, though I know we all do it. My oven's simply not big enough to hold my collection. I do have a pot rack from my previous house, but the cathedral ceiling in my current kitchen made it prohibitive for me to install, so it's tucked away, awaiting its return to center stage.

But then I remembered the Julia Child kitchen layout in the Smithsonian and borrowed an idea...sorta. Julia Child had a large pegboard on her kitchen wall, outlined with diagrams for storing utensils. I took a wall in my kitchen/dining area, installed wood to protect it, added stainless steel bars, and finished it with hooks. I essentially created a vertical pot rack, and it's worked out marvelously! ….and yes, I actually use them all.

I also found storing glasses, dishes, serving bowls, etc. in the upper cabinets frustrating. They took up soooo much space and I am vertically challenged. Saving the dishes (cajun for "putting them away") on the second and third shelves simply wasn't working for me...for my back or the lifespan of the dishes. Since I don't keep a doomsday-prepper stash of canned and dry goods on hand I actually had wasted space in the pantry. So I repurposed it. The pantry became the new home for all of my glass and "dishware"; and I stored the canned and dry good in the upper cabinets.

Next was the counter space situation...or more specifically, the lack of it. I never realized how much real estate a knife block consumes on the counter. So, I organized my knives in a drawer on a knife mat...which I'm finding I like much better. I can select the exact knife I'm looking for without removing each one from the block. Sweet.

I then had to take a moment for some deep self-reflection, come clean about my addiction, and perform my own intervention. So here it goes: "Hello, my name is Esmé, and I'm an addict—a utensil and gadget addict." When it comes to cooking utensils, they seem to multiply like cottontail bunnies in the wild. So, I gathered every single one. I set aside my workhorses. For me, it's my olive-wood spatulas and quality serving utensils...I love their durability and warm, swirly wood grain, but I had a gazillion of them. I also have a small collection of All-Clad utensils that I adore. They're built with such durability and timeless style that they could easily be passed down as heirlooms. They look fantastic, don’t bend under heavy use, and they have reasonable handle lengths—as opposed to other brands that feel like you're wielding an industrial do-dad with their ridiculously extra-long handles. So, I dug up my Sherlock Holmes monocle and proceeded with an inspection. I set aside duplicates and then gathered the ones with cracks or chips—typically the older ones—and retired them. I've gone from 30-35 wooden utensils to 8! Four for current use and four as replacements.

Moving on to the specialty items, I personally found it easier to whittle these down. I set aside my workhorses and was left with a jumbled mess of items resembling an otter's den. Anything I hadn't used in the last 18-24 months, or that had only a single function, received a resolute "bye-bye." Really, who needs three garlic presses, four sets of measuring cups, five sets of measuring spoons, and six ice cream scoops? For clarity, some of the duplicate accumulation was due to cooking competitions and catering, and some of it was admittedly retail therapy. But I've consistently pared down the collection over the last two years to what I regularly use, and everything else has been given away or donated. It's been quite liberating.

Before we wrap up, let me quickly touch on staples. Take a moment to examine what you use on the regular—whether that's basic food items or spices. Go through your plethora of seasonings and spices. Open your spice bottles and take a good whiff. If it smells rancid or is void of odor or taste, pitch it in the bin. Next, look at your pantry staples, let’s say your stock of cream of mushroom soup or frozen items. Now I'm the first to admit that I'll use a can of mushroom soup past its expiration date within reason. At some point, whatever is in the can will take on a metallic taste. I tend to extend the shelf life slightly for glass items. Always check frozen items for freezer burn. And ensure you have a storage system to use an older package of chicken breasts before the new one you bought last week.

When setting up—or recalibrating—your kitchen, do so in a way that works best for your cooking habits and the space you have. There should be logic to its arrangement—an ease that should feel somewhat natural (at least minimally painful). Take an afternoon—or a weekend—to take stock and reimagine your humble kitchen. Is there anything you can change that's within your budget? Can you easily access Nana's Dutch oven, or is it a laborious and knee-bruising operation? It may take a couple of rearranging experiments to get it right for you...but that's okay because you'll learn what doesn't work.

Stay tuned for a more in-depth look at the four layers. See you then!

Cheers,