In the Kitchen

For most of my life, the kitchen has been the heart, if not the soul, of the household. Our houses tell us so much about who and what we are, and how much more so our kitchens. Not only do we store and cook food there, but we often gather to kibbitz with family and friends. Some kitchens are places where our knick-knacks are displayed, revealing our artistic skills or reminding us of events from earlier times in our lives: this place, that person, those stories.

Anne's kitchen is a showcase for her fine stained glass and craft skills as well as for the painted glassware from her daughter. My step-daughter Lin's kitchen (Freund Family) in Sweden is the place where all congregate and join in cooking and baking for the family. And my Aunt Mollie's kitchen is chock full of chatchkes and photos acquired during her long, well-lived life. Each item has a specific person and memory attached to it: champagne glasses from her fiftieth wedding anniversary party, a teapot from her granddaughter Marcy, paintings and a dish from her friend Solveig, a photo of Mollie and Abe in earlier days, her children Jan and Bob over the stove, and so on. My own kitchen: I'd like to characterize it as cheerful clutter.