Someone's in the Kitchen

Obviously I love food, but in browsing through my photos I noticed there is one thing I love nearly as much, and that's a nice kitchen. I'm certainly not talking one that has to be stainless steel and marble (though when we can all afford that, wouldn't it be nice?) What I love are the kitchens that have so seen the celebration of food and company, day in and day out, that they just look like another member of the family. The kitchens I love in my life are inextricably bound to the food memories they gave me. Here is my mom's kitchen, the daily ritual of very long, late morning breakfasts, my sister and her boyfriend reading the paper. One of my favorite things about my childhood kitchen (and most others) is the light. ahhh, so loverly.
This is my friend Thea's kitchen (that's Thea at the sink) I love the light and the blue curtain. Everyone was piling stuff all over the counter and making drinks and getting the place well worn in and messy, it was great.London! Staying with my friend Sean, at his friend's place in east London, they made potatoes and 'veg', with baked lemon chicken and wine. (or was this the day with roasted parsnips? mmm heaven) I was entranced by the light and the steam (as you can see here) It was a simple meal that seemed appropriately British, and I just watched from the couch as they calmly prepared it, chatting away at the counter.

Julien's kitchen! St. Mande. What can I say? cracking bread, half pulled apart baguette and cheese on the counter, popcorn popping on the stove for stringing on the christmas tree, French boys cooking pasta for 8 people making a mess, and a small cold glass of blood orange juice in the morning before anyone is awake...this is the first kitchen that felt like home to me in a foreign country. (and so far the only one!)
Yay echo park! Bright light coming in from the garden window and any assortment of fresh vegetables or fruit, known or unknown, that we can test, slice, suck, slurp, chomp and sample in the spread of culinary comraderie (and maybe a slice of toast with butter or jam) that is Thea's parent's kitchen. Love it.


OMG crepe parties. Laure's dad's Kitchen. What can I say? This says it all.

My sister Bridget lives in SF, needless to say for anyone who knows me, I absolutely adore it there. This was the day her Turkish boyfriend made a Turkish feast. He was wearing a dark green shirt cutting green scallions and I crowded the table deboning two hot, steaming chickens. He made zucchini fritters and white beans soaked in vinegar with onions and tomatos, swathed with bread soaking up the juices, and my sister made fresh roasted babaganoush from the electric stove top burners. I ran downstairs 3 times in the cold, approaching evening to the store on the corner to get ice, fresh parsley and other last minute additions. I have rarely been so content.