โItโs about time, donโt you think?โ Iโd asked The One several months ago. After all, the bottom wall oven has broken down five times and is now as dead as they come. The top oven canโt keep a steady temperature to save its lifeโor my brioche. The downdraft ventilation system on the stovetop has also keeled over several times and, as such, has been in the upright and locked position for several years because I fear if we lower it, weโll never see it again. The dishwasherโah, the dishwasher. Itโs cleaned the floor almost as many times as itโs cleaned our dishes, thanks to a capricious leak. Then thereโs the fridge, which is one of those confounded side-by-side numbers. As far as Iโm concerned, itโs useless; I canโt get a half sheet pan of anything in there, and forget about stashing anything larger than a modest pot roast in the narrow depths of the freezer. To add insult to injury, the former owners decided to abut the monster against a left wall, making it impossible to completely open the freezer door. (WTF were they thinking?!)
Despite my constant rants and complaints, The One wasnโt drinking the Kool-Aid. For months and months weโve been saving to remodel the kitchen in our NYC apartment, a kitchen so small, so pathetic that we stopped city entertaining years ago. We couldnโt bear the embarrassment when people would swing open our Donna Reed-inspired kitchen door, poke their heads in to see where we cook, and then have their faces crumble in disappointmentโor pinch in judgmentโwhen they cast their eyes on The Truth.
โWhat if we shunt the money for the city kitchen to Connecticut and then redo the city next year?โ I casually mentioned to The One as I slid a piece of my Hersheyโs Chocolate Cake in front of him. Over the years Iโve come to the conclusion that his neurons stop firing and his central nervous system switches over to compliant mode when heโs confronted with chocolate. As he licked the plate (yes, he actually licks the plate when he likes something), he relentedโbut with the caveat that I pay for the entire renovation. After a second slice, he caved when I showed him the dirt-cheap, butt-ugly stainless-steel sink I said I intended to buy, my fingers crossed behind my back. He immediately, and I must admit, magnanimously, offered to buy a sleek white enamel farmerโs sink. Men. Theyโre so easily played.
And thus The Great Project began. There was no way in hell I was going to slide my new appliances (generously supplied by KitchenAid*) into painted-over knotty-pine cabinetry thatโs more chipped and cracked than a trollopโs cherry red fingernails. So Dan Keys, our contractor (above), came in and asked me to lay out my dream kitchen. Wind me up and let me go. I whizzed around the room, my hands moving faster than Lorin Maazelโs conducting Beethovenโs Ninth Symphony, carving out a pantry here and a recessed fridgeโone that actually openedโthere. I stretched the air to make a larger, more workable island. I pulled out invisible knife drawers and hidden trash bins. I played God, creating light where there was none. When I was done with my dance, I was so exhausted I needed lunch and a nap. Dan needed an aspirin, I think. After that, Larry Komisar and Don Hodkoski of Litchfield Kitchen & Bath stopped by three times with tape measures, cameras, and puzzled looks, and after several weeks the kitchen design went from rough pencil sketches (above) to floor plans to computer-generated elevations.
The last major hurdle? Countertops. Hereโs where The One and I parted ways. I wanted a simple cement look (above center, beneath the smaller sample). But The One stood firm, insisting on a slightly mottled counter (above left). โJust in case you stain it while youโre cooking,โ he said. What the hell? I figure itโs a small price to pay for a farmerโs sink. (Update: We eventually decided on an almost white counter. We just fell in loveโwith the same one. What can I say?) We did look at zinc for the wet side of the kitchen, but The One felt it was too much metal. Little does he know that Iโm in cahoots with Dan to see if perhaps we can have a section around the sink thatโs zinc. It ages so gracefully. Not unlike dear Miss Swanson.
*LC Editorโs Note: โWhat? Wait? David took free appliances from KitchenAid? Isnโt that, like, unethical or something? Criminal, even?โ Well, dear reader, no, itโs not. Federal law simply requires that anything given to a blogger for free must be disclosed to you. Fabulous, inquisitive, witty you. The gifting of these appliances isnโt any different than manufacturers donating appliances to television shows, cooking demo kitchens, stores, etc. And it makes perfect sense considering that David and The One are planning to host their own Google+ Hangout on Air Web series from their brand-spanking-new kitchen. Besides, theyโve bought KitchenAid appliances for their previous homes and have been quite, quite content with their performance. Plus you know David: Heโs so darn opinionated, nothing is going to sway his opinion and no one can muzzle him. If heโs not happy or if he doesnโt like something, youโll know it. Thatโs his promise to you.
My husband keeps telling me I should go for a general contractor license and work as a project manager or something. Maybe ten years ago, but โฆ nah!
Well, Jean, keep me posted. Want to know all the disaster, er, success stories!