When you choose less space: Kitchen cupboards

Do you remember my post about plotting out our new kitchen by putting dishes and pans on rectangles of newspaper?

Well, quite a lot of that worked well, and knowing where things would go was extremely helpful on moving day, when I just wanted to unpack boxes as fast as possible and with no awkward surprises. Because we had early access to the apartment, we were even able to change the heights of a few shelves ahead of the move (had to have somewhere to put the blender and cereal boxes).

Once we got settled, there were a few things that got changed. You never know exactly how things will fit until you've lived with them a bit.

There is room in the dish cupboard for fifteen mugs, six glasses, four cereal bowls, and so on. (Too many mugs for three people, but we are fond of them.) I bought a wire rack to prop up small plates and two extra bowls. The red Pyrex belonged to Mr. Fixit's grandmother.

Casseroles, serving bowls, plastic things, and a tray of vitamins and stuff, in a cupboard over the sink. Usually the small Crockpot lives up there too, but it has dinner in it right now.

Baking things, mostly, in a cupboard over the counter. I sometimes use the glass mixer bowls for serving food.

The blender and cereal cupboard, over the stove. There's also a cupboard over the fridge, but it's awkward to access so there's not much in there...the extra muffin tins, things like that.

Bread, tea/coffee, and some small things up top in a basket.

Under the counter: pots and pans (we've used the same set since we were married), storage containers, mixing bowls, and a few staple foods.  There is one other lower cupboard for cleaning supplies and garbage bags.

Drawer #1: cutlery and serving spoons. The divider boxes were yard-saled.

Drawer #2: tools

Drawer #3: seasonings. There is a Drawer #4 where Lydia keeps lunchbox foods and a set of mini cutlery. She also has a basket on the fridge for water bottles and her lunch bag.

That's it, mostly. Most of the pantry food is in the storage room, and so are two large pots, the popcorn popper, and the coffee percolator. Dish towels are in a rack on the counter, and the hot pads and oven mitts are in a basket. The wooden spoons and spatulas are in vintage wooden canisters on the counter (I've already posted a photo of those).

So this doesn't look very minimalist? No, it wouldn't all fit into a Tiny House kitchen. If we'd ended up with a smaller kitchen, we would have had to pare down the trifle bowl, the rolling pin, and the coffee mugs. If we were more eco-conscious, we would have swapped all the plastics for mason jars, and have gone off cold cereal completely. I'm sure there are lots more valid criticisms people might have.

But this is our space. This is where we are at. We brought what we found most useful, and let a lot of other things go.

A moving addendum: the kitchen slims down, like it or not

We had some plans for the things that would go with us to the new place. Some of those ideas have gotten a bit nipped in the bud recently.

We weren't going to take the microwave, for space reasons and because we knew it was probably not going to last much longer, but it conveniently died a couple of weeks ago before we got around to dealing with it. We went out and bought an extra electric kettle for heating water. (Our old one is at the apartment.)

We were going to take the toaster oven, but it turns out that the best space for it is too close to the fridge, and we were reluctant to take up any of the rest of the kitchen real estate with it. Besides, there is a brand-new stove/oven in the apartment. Mr. Fixit went out and bought a toaster. (Pattern here?)

We were going to take the bread machine (I love my bread machine), but we did buy a stand mixer with dough hook at the thrift store, last winter. Because of storage issues and the age of the bread machine (it came from a yard sale almost four years ago), we have decided to send it to e-waste as well.

When we said new adventures, I wasn't expecting this much of a turnover in gadgetry. But better to figure it out now, I guess, than to have a storage room full of half-working kitchen gear.

Flowers on the Table, why? (Hidden Art of Homemaking, Chapter 7)

It's at this point in The Hidden Art that we (any readers, but especially "Christian homemakers," since it's aimed at us) feel a bit or a lot overwhelmed. 

A familiar Proverbs-31-lady tension sets in:  not only do we have to "think artistic," but we also have to be creative decorators and make bed trays when people are sick and grow gardens and make candles and do needlepoint, and not just put food on the table, but pretty food, and search out flowers and decorate the table as well.  Flowers on the table, not just on special occasions but as a regular feature, and if we don't have flowers, trotting out to the garden for gourds. And we would never set out a plastic tub of margarine or a plain jar of applesauce or jam, would we?  Hidden art, nothing--it's us who should be hiding.  All this visual "communicating" sounds like hard, hard work; and what if it just burns us out, ends up costing a lot of money, and the people around us don't appreciate our efforts?  Anyway, they've never said they wanted flowers on the table.

I think Edith would say no, no, no, no, no.

This is supposed to be freeing.  Encouraging, not guilt-producing.  Remember the image Edith used of a broken body part in a cast?  We are being allowed to express our hidden-art side.  It's a reminder that we have permission. It is meant to allow movement, freedom, possibilities, especially after a time of feeling immobile, shut in a small space...in any way, physically, emotionally, or spiritually.

If our homes are already overwhelmed with clutter and stuff, or we have shopaholic tendencies, then buying even more candles and flowers or starting a craft-store centerpiece project is NOT a good idea.  What we need to work on, home-wise, might be breathing spaces.  The table and counters free of clutter.  Maybe ONE flower in a vase.

But others may be living with little, maybe in a small apartment or a government townhouse.  A landlord who won't allow paint or nails in the wall.  Not much to look at from the balcony or from the front steps.  Smells and noise coming in from other units, and from outside.  This is the opposite challenge:  starting from "underwhelmed."  And again, a little can be the big equalizer: a couple of flowers in a vase.  Something to contemplate.  Something no landlord can complain about.

And this is the deal with the flowers on the table: we keep hearing that "nobody" eats meals at the table anymore, at least not all together; nobody cooks proper meals, nobody has time; and the idea of sitting and stretching out a mealtime together, well...that's the most difficult of all.  Homeschoolers are usually a little or a lot better at this than most, because we tend to have more people at home; but even homeschooling families can get rushed and preoccupied.

So maybe it's not flowers and candles at all, because maybe you can't get flowers, or your spouse has allergies and the kids might knock over the candles and set the place on fire.  Maybe your creative stretching in the eating space is just nice cloth placemats, or cartoons drawn on a chalkboard over the table.  Maybe it's bright red or pretty blue paper napkins, laid out over the plates--I'm serious!  Sometimes a bit of colour is just what a boring table needs, even if it's from the dollar store.

But think about this: if the table looks a little nicer than usual, and the room is clean and smells good, and the food is set out in a specially pretty or fun or appetizing way (that's chapter 8)...you see and they see that somebody cares. Maybe we will spend a few minutes longer sitting there. Maybe we'll even try talking to each other while we're there.

Maybe that's the why.

Linked from the Ordo Amoris linky for Hidden Art of Homemaking, Chapter 7. (I checked this time! It's the right link!)

The Organized Kitchen: toaster ovens, leftovers, menu planning

Mama Squirrel likes any kitchen ideas that make life easier and give her more time to do important things. (Like play checkers with Crayons.) Here are a couple of squirrel kitchen tips.

1. We are a microwave-less family, not so much by principle as just by the fact that we've never owned one and have never felt we really needed one. What we've always had, though, besides the big oven, is a toaster oven. Originally we had one from Mama Squirrel's previous life (before squirrelings), but when that eventually went kaput we acquired a more modern programmable one. It actually looks (and beeps) like a microwave.

The advantages to having more than one source of oven heat are that you can bake two things at different temperatures if you need to (like baked beans at 350 degrees and a pan of biscuits at 450), and that you don't have to heat up the big oven if you're cooking a small amount of something. We have a lidded casserole that just fits into the toaster oven space, and we've also baked many things in it in an 8-inch square pan. About the only things we haven't baked in it are cookies (our pans are too big), muffins (although I do bake muffin batter in it, in an 8-inch pan), and any recipe big enough to need one of our plus-size casseroles.

And it also makes toast.

2. Menu Planning: Mama Squirrel's current binge of planned-ahead meals is in its third week, and she's discovered something that makes this planning easier. The Squirrels always shop on Saturdays (and it's not usually possible to make another trip during the week). This means that certain foods are more plentiful, say, from Saturday to Wednesday. By Wednesday, the bananas are gone, the cold cuts are eaten up, and so on. So: our week's menu starts on Wednesday, rather than on the more obvious Saturday. I can plan the meals from Wednesday to Friday based on what's still left in the fridge and the cupboard, and make sure that anything we need for the after-shopping days on goes on the grocery list. If I want to make banana muffins, I write them in for sometime after Saturday, and make sure I buy bananas.

Of course this does mess up the lovely menu forms that you can print out online (nobody's menu form starts on Wednesday), but still it's working.

3. Favourite kitchen tools: a four-cup glass measuring cup (you can mix all kinds of things right in it), sharp scissors (for cutting open those irritating, harder-than-ever-to-open cereal box liners), clothes pins (for pinning all the opened bags back together again), lots of measuring spoons (check thrift shops), a rubber spatula, and a decent can opener. Mama Squirrel has had better luck with the first few than with that last one. Cheap can openers rust and bend, and even the expensive one we once bought doesn't cut the way it used to. Inventors of kitchen improvements: there is a niche there that needs to be filled.

Oh, and a permanent marker. You need one handy if you're going to be putting leftovers in margarine tubs or other non-see-through containers. There's nothing like opening a container of yogurt and getting diced tomatoes instead..