Our New Kitchen

There’s a lot to be said about the kitchen in our new place. It’s too bad I can’t say it.

That’s not entirely true. I can say some of it. And I have pictures. I took them for the purposes of damage deposit when we eventually move out, but since they’re here, I might as well put them to use.

This is the stove, the sink, and the only countertop we have – excluding what’s in the bathroom, because, let’s face it, cooking in the bathroom is only so much fun. We’ll start from the left.

First, we have the stove. It’s probably older than Dave and I. We’ve fired it up once since coming down here, and it smells like something died. I had to leave the kitchen. However, the smell burned off quick and our ten-dollar box of chicken fingers didn’t seem to suffer for it. We’ve used the stove top a few times, but it hasn’t produced any amusing results – just macaroni and a few kettles of boiling water.

Above the stove, note the MDF shelving and range hood. This is probably the only place I’ve lived in since leaving home that has a fully-functional range hood. Of course, it took us ten minutes of inspecting to see where the fan inside the hood is actually directing the air. Turns out, attached to it is one of those flexible duct-things that dryers use. The people who hooked all of this together were cheap and innovative!

I hate that shelving unit, if it can even be called that. They basically took a normal cupboard of some sort, turned it upside down, and attached it to the ceiling, while leaving the top (now the bottom) to rest on the window sill. Also, I can’t reach the “shelf”, so anything that Dave needs to keep out of my reach should be stored up there.

Next, I would like to draw your attention to the drawer. Which drawer, you needn’t ask. There is only one. That’s right! One drawer in the entire kitchen. Even the bathroom has more than that. And do you think this one drawer would allow for us to toss a small, cheap silverware tray in it? Fat chance. Dave whittled down the edges of the tray so we could actually use it, instead of having to go back to the SuperStore and demand our two dollars back.

We have no idea where the actual Instruments of Cooking will be going. I imagine there must be a place we can pick up a somewhat decorative tin can (not that a Maxwell House Coffee tin wouldn’t do the trick, but we are trying to spruce up the joint, keep in mind), we just can’t find such a place at the moment. (We do have a wonderfully tacky ceramic koala that would also do the trick, but… more on him later.)

I love the cannister set on the ledge in front of the window. Really. No sarcasm. It’s a nice feeling to finally have a good set of cannisters. Now, we just need a better kitchen.

Also, take note of the curtains, since they won’t be around for long, if I have anything to say about it. There’s a roller shade in the window also, but I’m scared to touch it. I’m sure it used to be white, but now it’s all yellowed and cracked that if I touch it, I bet the entire thing will turn to dust.

Double-sink? Two thumbs up. They’re not particularly deep, but they’re in good condition and there’s two of them.

And now, the shame of the kitchen. The bottom set of cupboards. You’ll notice they all have that wooden thing along the top that tries to take the place of doorknobs. Well, not all of them. The two under the sink seem to have shed theirs in what we can only guess to be a desperate bid for freedom. And now the doors fold back inside the cupboards as well. At 4:00am, the cats find this all terribly amusing in a bang-bang-bang-SHUTUP-pause-bang! sort of way, as cats do.

Inside the cupboards is even more fun. There are no shelves. There’s not even a bottom to the cupboards. It’s just floor. We store cleaning products there and that’s about it.

When I first saw that flappy thing (also known as The Rectangle With the Knob), I was curious as to who builds a bread box into the wall. How much bread can you fit into something as deep as a 2×4? The answer is: this is nothing functional. At least, not in a cooking sense. There’s a hole in the wall, about a third of the size of this flap, with two garden-style taps (you know the kind – they sit so low to the ground, nestled in the grass, that you’re scared to touch them for too long in the summer, just in case there’s a nest of spiders hanging out there). Since this kitchen is basically an after-thought, I’m guessing this was a laundry room at one time. Still, I suppose it’s good to know that if we ever have to shut our water off in a hurry, we’ll know exactly where to go: the Flap That Isn’t a Bread Box.

I really don’t have many complaints about the higher cupboards, except that they look like they were taken from somewhere else. When you look inside, there are two holes in the bottom, the middle shelf, and the top. They appear to have been mounted around a couple of pesky 2×4s, then ripped out later on. Just thinking about the cupboards makes me twitch. The open shelf isn’t bad. We have the coffee grinder, the blender, and a few other little gadgets hanging out there.

Please note… the fridge. The fridge, when it’s working, works a bit too well.

When we first got into the place, the fridge was unplugged and moved away from the wall. No big deal, I guess they were just cleaning behind it. So we moved it back into place. The little plastic cover below the door fell off. You can see it sitting on top of the fridge because, for the life of us, Dave and I can’t figure out how to get the bloody thing back on. And the cats have already lost at least two items to Under the Fridge.

And then we tried to plug it in. The cord wouldn’t reach. The outlet is about five feet off the ground. The cord for the fridge is about four feet, eleven inches long. We couldn’t move the fridge closer to the other plug because our glorious cabinets are in the way. And the kitchen is the only room in the place that doesn’t seem to have an outlet every three feet. We shuffled things, moved the cord around, and eventually got it to plug in. But the fridge wouldn’t turn on. I threw in the towel and ran off to find an extension cord.

The microwave we bought off the people who used to live down here. See, they found a place to rent for the winter, fully furnished, so they couldn’t take a lot of their stuff. We picked up the microwave for $30. I’m pretty sure it works. I can set the clock and the light turns on, but we haven’t actually used it yet.

They also left the stand behind. Hey! Two for one! It’s just one less thing that we’d eventually have to buy and put together.

To the left of the fridge, there’s an orange plastic garbage bag. It’s full of stuffed toys. Now, after having moved some things from my parents’ place on Sunday, there’s a big cupboard there. With real knobs. And shelves. And a bottom. And it’s the answer to some of our troubles (the answers to some of our other troubles include, but are not limited to, a car, a bottle of rum, a Santa hat, knitted pink booties, and a cattle prod). The cats still haven’t figured this thing out, so our garlic is safe for now.*

To the left of the stove, there’s this side room. Huge amounts of storage, this lovely cupboard that is not only heavy-duty, but also cat-proof, and a place for us to keep the litter box. It’s for the best. Trust me. While I’m terrified to go too deep into the Place Under the Stairs, the cats love it. Hiding and pooping – their two favourite pastimes!

There are plans to put a couple of shelves and a bit more counter to the left of this door, where there’s just blank wall. We’ll see if that ever happens though.

But that’s our kitchen. For now. I have big plans for it.

* For some reason, our kitties love garlic. They hunt it down, they steal it, and they eat it. But their breath still smells like cat food.