![]() Because it is so slim, the knife rack disappears when the cabinet is shut you would never see it unless you knew it was there. The slim profile of the magnetic strip takes up much less room than the bulky wooden under-cabinet knife block it bears repeating – 64 square feet. I invented it, simply standing at the stove, new knife in hand, without the assistance of Mr. It’s not exactly rocket science, right? People install all sorts of things under cabinets: lights, appliances, TVs ( because God forbid you should spend one minute of your day sans television) and yes, even knife blocks ( although I didn’t know these existed until just now). In fact, as I stood at the stove, knife in hand ( for inspiration) and thought about where a knife rack could possibly go, I realized that the only blank space of any consequence was under the cabinet. The available wall space in the kitchen, that is not covered with lovely tile backsplash, can be measured in inches and most of those inches are already busy holding other pivotal kitchen gear. Because you don’t have many walls, you see. Living in one room is wonderful, especially in a small space, because it is so open that it doesn’t feel small, but it does cut way down on available wall space. When you include a refrigerator, stove, microwave, cabinets and a large window over the sink, even less space. While a magnetic knife rack seems an obvious solution to a knife storage dilemma, our problem was a lack of wall space to install said rack. The knives-beside-the-knife-block pile became not only an eyesore, but a serious impediment to kitchen efficicency as I had to spend precious minutes digging around in the pile to pull out the knife I wanted: definitely time for Plan B. The straw that broke this camel’s back occurred a few months ago, when, frustrated with our collection of really old, been-sharpened-so-many-times-they-won’t-keep-an-edge Henckels, I invested in a two new knives ( a Global 8-inch chef and a New West Knifeworks santoku). The rest of the knives, either too long, too wide, or too many to fit in the knife block, ended up piled alongside the block ( in plastic sheaths, of course) cluttering up the joint and making me crazy. I do have a knife block ( a gift from a friend years ago when he realized that, despite cooking all the time, I didn’t own any decent knives) that holds a good portion of our collection and lives in a convenient little alcove next to the stove. Between the two of us, we have about 25 good kitchen knives, all requiring a non-knock-about-the-one-utensil-drawer home. As an enthusiastic home cook, married to a former professional pastry chef, our collection of kitchen gear is fairly staggering ( more than half of it lives in huge plastic bins in the garage), and knives are no exception. I want things close to hand, but I dislike clutter. Of late, I’ve been inspired to tackle several of my nagging kitchen problems, which ( like most every kitchen problem, I suspect) always seem to hinge on a balance of efficiency and beauty ( and, in a kitchen as small as mine, the laws of physics). As much as I love it, for someone who cooks each and every day, and whose cooking projects range from home-fermented pickles to a 4-layer mountain-themed wedding cake, a 64-square foot kitchen can be, well, a challenge. It’s a beautiful space and one that I love: the original structure was a horse barn, built in the mid 1700s, and the renovation to a modern living space stayed true to the style, with lots of exposed wood, ancient support beams and 14-foot ceilings. The bathroom is the only room in the house that has a door ( for which I am eternally grateful), so packed into the other 800-or-so square feet are kitchen, dining room/office, living room, entry hall and bedroom. I may have mentioned that I live in a little cottage in the woods: 1000 square feet ( a 900-sf footprint and a tiny, 100-sf loft with 30-inch ceilings) and basically one big room.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |