A New Kitchen (After)

Yesterday I regaled you with the tale of why we had to update our kitchen. Today I'm going to show you what the new kitchen looks like.

What's the same: The basic layout. The flooring. The cooktop and range hood. The fact that I have way too many small kitchen appliances, gadgets, cookbooks, you name it to stash in the kitchen.

What's different: The cabinets. They're a basic oak selected because it matches the trim around our windows and doors. We wanted something to lighten up the room, given the darker flooring already in place. They're nothing fancy, but very nice. (We do have the fabulous drawers that shut themselves, which is super cool). 

One major plus to the new cabinets (besides the fact the drawers actually open and the cupboard doors aren't falling apart) is a bit of added functionality. We have an easy-to-access turnaround now, a divider to make the cookie sheet cabinet more useful, and best of all, a real pantry to replace my futile attempt to create a pantry from a too-small cabinet.

(Someone else enjoys the pantry, and all the cabinets and drawers he can now get into, since we're loath to screw in childproof locks yet so only a few are inaccessible to Little Man right now.)

What else is different: The countertops. They're laminate, nothing fancy, but look like stone and are a great neutral color that hides spots and crumbs and such very well. This is a key feature in my world. (Although I kind of miss the gold and silver speckles in our old countertops. Kind of.)

The dishwasher, combination wall oven and microwave, and fridge. (Hooray for matching appliances and an oven that works! Plus now I can actually use the microwave and oven at the same time without blowing a fuse. That's big. HUGE.)

The kitchen sink and faucet (thank goodness—the old ones were seriously nasty).

The light fixtures, including the chandelier above the table. It's not nearly as cool as the retro chandelier we had before, but we don't have to worry about it burning the house down.

And the walls. Instead of old wallpaper and pink tile, now they're all just painted a sagey green. It makes for a welcoming, serene space.

I absolutely love the new kitchen. It's taking some getting used to, though. It's a place I'm comfortable with and know well, since we kept the same layout, yet it's still so different. I'm not quite sure it feels like "home" yet, but it's getting there.

I just need to spill and splatter a few more things first. And maybe actually hang something on the walls. (Even though I know the gaping hole in the soffit where our doorbell ringer is looks quite attractive as it is.)

A New Kitchen (Before)

For more than 5 years, this was my kitchen.

When we moved to L-Town, I was still working for a custom publishing company in Des Moines and spent a portion of my days looking at photos of and writing about dreamy kitchens. I did not consider this one of those dreamy kitchens. Not even close.

At first I wondered if I'd ever get used to the mismatched appliances, salmon tile, and retro wallpaper. But I did. I spent a lot of time in this kitchen, trying all different sorts of recipes every chance I got. I got used to the finicky oven, to the ever-present spots staining the white countertops, to the way certain drawers didn't open correctly. It became my home. I appreciated its midcentury modern style (and its quirks).

But then Little Man came along. And our oven moved from retro-cool to fire hazard territory, getting so hot you could actually burn yourself if you touched the outside of it without a pot holder. Not a good situation with a toddler in the house, particularly one who likes to play in the kitchen as much as his mamma does.

The oven also made it harder and harder to bake with any consistency—it got so bad I pretty much stopped using it because everything I tried to make either came out overcooked or undercooked (because I was afraid of burning things, which seemed to happen in mere minutes).

We looked into replacing the oven but, alas, they don't even make ovens that size anymore—unless we wanted to spend thousands of dollars buying a used replacement that looked like the original, with no guarantee it would be any safer.

We could have replaced the oven with a new one of different dimensions and had our contractor rig up the cabinet it was in so it looked like it fit, but we knew that would be a temporary, rather unfortunate fix.

And so replacing the oven suddenly became replacing the oven, the cabinets, and the countertops. And while we were at it, the refrigerator, microwave, and dishwasher too. Oh, and tearing out the tile. And ditching the wallpaper. And painting. And getting new light fixtures in the kitchen and dining room because the lovely retro chandelier in the dining room was a fire hazard, too.

It's amazing how quickly a little project becomes a big project.

So we picked out new cabinets and countertops, ordered new appliances, found light fixtures and a new sink and faucet.

Once my semester ended, I hastily packed up our kitchen (for such a small space, it's amazing how much stuff we had in there!) and tried to take off the wallpaper on the soffit. It was dreadful, let me tell you. The number of hours I spent steaming and scraping was ridiculous given how little progress I made. But that's a story for another day.

Once the kitchen was cleared out, we ran off to Georgia. And when we came back two weeks later, we had a new kitchen. How's that for glorious timing? I can't imagine how dreadful it would have been to try to work from home and keep an incredibly curious dog and little boy away from the action for two weeks. So I highly recommend getting the heck out of town the next time you hire someone to work on your house. It was terrific.

Anyhow. Now that I've talked all about what our kitchen was and how it got remodeled, I'm going to stop for today. You'll just have to come back tomorrow to see the "after."

A New Radio

As you may have noticed, I spend quite a bit of my spare time in the kitchen.

And often, when I'm not in the kitchen, I'm sitting nearby at the dining room table working or writing or reading.

In all the time we've lived in our house, I've had this feeling something was missing from this area.

And then, a while ago, I realized what the kitchen needed: a radio.



But I knew I didn't want just any radio. And so I spent quite some time thinking about what I wanted, searching for just the right thing.

And I found it, in all places, in My Sister's kitchen.

You see, she picked up an adorable little blue Tivoli radio at a yard sale back when she lived in Boston. It was a steal of a deal—$10, maybe $20. Whoever sold it had no idea what a gem the brand-new radio was, that it sold for around $150 normally.

So I pined for this radio that was out of my price range for years. I hoped (quite unrealistically) that I, too, might stumble across a garage sale bargain like My Sister did.

I gave up on that wish this winter, when it was time to think of my Christmas wish list, when I decided I would go ahead and ask for the darn radio that had been missing from my house for so long.

I picked out an equally retro-looking radio, much bigger than the Tivoli I coveted, but that looked nice and was an easier-to-stomach price.

Only we discovered, after Conservative Hubby dutifully purchased it for me as requested and even wrapped it up himself, that the sound of that darn radio was terrible. Absolutely horrible.

So back the cheaper radio went and I spent another month without my precious radio.

And then I broke down and did it. I chipped in on my own Christmas gift and ordered my dream radio, the little Tivoli that matches my retro kitchen beautifully and boasts wonderful, full sound for such a small package.


Right now, I am listening to a little "All Things Considered" while dinner cooks. Once Conservative Hubby joins me (because he is not a fan of NPR like I am--or at all), I'll switch to listening to some music from my iPod, which hooks up to the back of the radio.

I'm feeling a little Eric Clapton tonight to go along with our roasted cod, potatoes, and lemons.

It makes me happy, happy, happy to have this little friend on the countertop next to me. And it makes me want to spend even more time in the kitchen (if that's possible).

The New Mixer

You may have a noticed a little something different in my last post. Instead of the usual handheld mixer and Pyrex bowl, I gave you a glimpse of a rather shiny contraption with a silver bowl and paddle.

It was none other than my (er ... our) very lovely, brand-new KitchenAid Mixer!


It has been on my "dream kitchen item" list for years, even before I had my own kitchen in which to place the mixer. I've long fantasized about whipping up huge batches of cookies, of mixing bread dough, of all the wonderful things you can do with these stand mixers.

Plus, I worked on enough dreamy kitchen magazines in my last life to know that any stylish, striking kitchen has one on the counter. And you all know that my salmon tile and peeling cupboards are the height of style, so naturally all I needed to complete the space was a KitchenAid Mixer.

This rather heavy creature arrived one day as an extremely generous wedding gift from some very good family friends of Conservative Family (thank you thank you thank you!). And, because of school, it sat on the countertop for about a week, looking lovely yet lonely and waiting for me to use it.

Fortunately, the cookie-making extravaganza was the perfect opportunity to try it out.

It allowed me to make a double-batch of sugar cookies (more on that tomorrow) with ease. It was the only bearable portion of my Christmas tree cookie disaster. And it made the candy cane cookies come together beautifully.

(In fact, they taste better than usual. Is it possible my mixer has magical powers?)

Oh, and did I mention it looks good too? (Although I do need to master taking photos of it. All those shiny parts confuse my precious little point and shoot.)

Chocolate Chip Cookies (Mrs. Fields Style)

This is another one that falls in the "yes, I admit I've actually tried this before category." But this is a recipe made famous by my little sis when we were younger and I haven't made it in years so I figured it was about time to share it.

First, gather the ingredients:


1 c. butter
1 c. sugar
1 c. brown sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp. vanilla
2 c. flour
2.5 c. oatmeal (measured then blended)
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda chocolate chips

(Was that bowl I poured the chocolate chips in necessary? Not really. But I've decided to start collecting them to help make my retro kitchen a bit cooler. This one cost $4 at an antique store here—the price tag said $8.50 but the owner—without my asking—though I should have it for $4!)

Anyhow, I digress. So after you've blended the oatmeal, mix all the ingredients together.


Add the chocolate chips, then bake golf ball-sized cookies on a ungreased cookie sheet at 375 degrees for 8 minutes—preferably in a super-special retro oven like this. (Or, I guess you can use a regular oven if you aren't blessed with an oven like mine!)


Voila. Eat before they're all the way cool. And after they're cool. And three days later, if there are any left. (There might not be.) Any questions?