‘Space Wars’

Have you ever wondered what the real purpose is of the kitchen's center island?

If so, ponder the question no more, Dear Readers, as I think I have found the answer. It is a place to collect, stack, put, place, spread, leave, toss and lose things! More specifically, it is a depository for all things unrelated to cooking. Handy to have, stylish to look at, expensive to build and a must‑have for all true gourmet chefs, these center islands are at the root of all household evil.

Perhaps I am overreacting a bit, but I know if my husband, Doug, has his way (which he usually does), the center island in our kitchen becomes his own private work station. Objects that suspiciously look like tools and medical devices have made their way into my cooking space, not to mention his business files, papers and mail. This very vital cook center has become a “man‑center!”

A woman in Anthem told me her exquisite granite center island is always piled so high with kids' papers and her husband's “stuff” that she hasn't seen the top of it in several months. And a man in Cave Creek e‑mailed to say that his wife wants him to “demolish” the center island in their kitchen because it just “attracts junk,” which she claims is mostly his.

I've seen those magazines showing gourmet kitchens that have exquisite natural stone surfaces adorned with a few strategically placed pieces of museum‑quality pottery. Fresh‑cut flowers in an elegant vase, an open French cookbook, something exotic being prepared, a bottle of fine wine opened and half‑empty standing next to the cook's wine‑glass are about the only objects that can be seen on these elegant countertops. Am I to believe that this could be my kitchen? I must immediately consult our favorite chef, Lupita, and ask her if this is how a real kitchen is supposed to look.         

Oh, getting back to my world, or clutter, none of the kitchens depicted in the magazines look like mine. I struggle daily to conquer the papers, gadgets, magazines and “stuff” that keeps finding its way (with the help of my husband) onto my countertops. I keep forgetting to pour myself a glass of fine wine, which would be one way to not let it bother me. I have pointed out to Doug that my cooking would improve dramatically if he'd stay out of my kitchen, but he usually bursts out in uncontrollable laughter at this comment.

Hey, what am I to do with a pair of hemostats tossed into my silverware drawer? And how is it that my good knives end up in the garage? What is duct tape doing under my sink? And why do things like soup ladles and colanders end up in the horse barn? The garage and kitchen are nothing more than blended work spaces! Yikes, I'm being displaced in my own house. If  I'm not careful, my kitchen will look like an ad for “Tools Illustrated.”

Back to the center island dilemma, one woman in Desert Hills e‑mailed me to say that while she knows it exists, her “huge, beautiful slab of granite has been reduced to a pile of homework experiments, school papers, mail and an occasional bowl of fruit.” Another woman from New River called to say she found her husband's electric drill “menacing” her pantry, with “drill bits lined up in a neat little row as if they had found a new resting place.” She said the garage is “spilling into her kitchen” and she'll “fight to the end” before that happens.      

Hmmm...  Sounds like a “space war” to me. Maybe just a big box (to put all the stuff in), a bottle of fine wine (to call a truce), a new recipe (to prove a point) and a fancy vase of flowers (to sweeten the air) will help in reclaiming the center island. As for the bigger battle? Perhaps a call to one of those garage cabinet makers might restore the kitchen/garage boundaries. In the meantime, keep the tools out of the kitchen and the utensils out of the garage. Until next week...  Bon appetitie!