Kitchens, Family, and Memories

One of my favorite blogs had a recent post about generations of passion for the kitchen. I was thinking of it today when I was relaxing with my father, brother, sister, cousin, and some significant others in this phenomenal kitchen. My brother and I, both foodies, are drooling all over the thing. It's partly because of the amazing commercial grade gas range, and the fabulous butcher block counter tops. But it's also about something more.

Kitchens are returning to their stature as the heart of the home. The hearth... the place where nourishment of the body and the spirit simmers away... is more and more the central place in the house. My cousin and her partner (who's a former baker/chef) redid their whole kitchen and it's lovely. It's a bright, cheerful, well stocked, and "at the ready" place. They were talking about how the center of their house used to be the living room, where the wood burning stove provides warmth, and the walk in greenhouse is a cheerful place to be through the cold Montana winters. But, that's not where they spend any time anymore. When packs of friends come by, or even when just the two of them and the dog are around, there's a pulse in the kitchen that keeps them there.

My dad was reminiscing about his grandparents' old farm-house from his days as a toddler. The huge table in the middle of the room was the place where everyone sat around, playing cards, snacking, offering advice to the folks cooking, and just enjoying each others' company. It reminded me of the kitchen my grandmother had in their house -- a huge space with deep drawers of flour and sugar, piles of bowls, spoons, plates, and iron cookie molds -- where I learned to wield the rolling pin, mix a marinade, and knead dough.

Somehow, those kitchen moments stick with you... for a long, long time. They're the memories of family, warmth, laughter, and this safe, joyous feeling that nourishes the soul.