Open Kitchen Discussion: The ghosts of kitchen's past
Soon after, I discovered that I absolutely was the kind of person who cooks, and in true all-or-nothing fashion, immediately adopted it as my entire identity. By that time we were living in a tiny apartment with a tiny kitchen where I tried to make Martha Stewart worthy recipes by literally cooking my way through two of her cookbooks. It was the kind of neighborhood in which it was best to stay inside with the door locked, so that tiny kitchen became my refuge and my playground, and even though it was truly ugly (and dilapidated), I loved it.
The only counter space in my next kitchen was the top of the washer and dryer. This is where I decided to start making wedding cakes. Obviously.
We purchased a house with another small-ish kitchen, but it had an actual laundry room, so the kitchen felt like a palace. Then we remodeled and for a few years I bathed in the luxury of what felt like an ocean of cabinet and counter space.
My kitchen now is 4 feet by 7 feet and, like all the ghosts of kitchens past, I love it. I might even love it most of all. (We start a major renovation next week and butcher block countertops and dark wood floors are on the project list!)
Like most of you, I adore every issue of Other People’s Kitchens because an invitation into someone’s kitchen is an invitation into their life.
So, after all that preamble, this week’s discussion question is not really a question at all. It’s more of an invitation to take your own trip down memory lane.
Tell us something about the kitchens you’ve cooked in that tells us something about you.
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This is a great question! And I loved reading about your kitchens Rebecca.
I have had so many kitchens. My kitchen now is pretty big and fancy, but that wasn't always the case.
For the first 12 years of my adult life I moved around a lot, in a nomadic extension of student life. It was all city rental flats and houses, and mostly the kitchens were grotty. I was too busy living the party life to cook, or working my butt off as a journalist/press officer.
There was one kitchen though, when I lived in a lovely house with my friend Hannah. It was light and white, open plan with lots of windows, a dark wooden floor and a breakfast bar. We used to go to the local market together on a Saturday and then would giggle with delight as we ordered our produce onto colour coded shelves. We cooked a lot of vegetarian food - Hannah was a vegetarian and I was trying to be healthy to support a burgeoning love of yoga. I have a distinct memory of courgette, ricotta and lemon stuffed rotolo.
For years, I cooked in kitchens that were barely there—tiny spaces where every centimetre mattered, where creativity often meant making do. Somehow, as my cooking evolved, so did my kitchens. Now, with more space ( since 6-7 years) I see how my journey with food has expanded too—not just in technique, but in confidence and curiosity. It’s a reminder that great cooking doesn’t start with the perfect kitchen; it starts with the love of making something good.