There are no AI generated or curated kitchens here.
I frequently show in my stories what I call “current state of my kitchen” videos. These, more often than not, show our very real, hard working kitchen. Where every surface and often the floor is covered with just a portion of the work it takes to make the food side of things run smoothly round here.
The dishes are usually piled high in various states of wash, unwashed, or waiting to be put away. Cooking three meals a day from scratch, plus preserving, and prepping, in an 8×10 kitchen, without a dishwasher or a microwave, with five real life people plus 6 more coming and going, living very busy lives, is something I don’t think could be created by any computer. Nor why would I waste the time? There is a lot to do right here under my nose.
My “pretty” in the kitchen tends towards the creamy richness of milk and cream, the beautiful yellow schmaltz of chicken fat on top of golden broth, the deep red of our garden tomatoes blended into a hearty soup, or the herb-y aroma of a slow cooked roast beef.
Day in. Day out. I’m here in my real kitchen feeding good food to my humans, grown and prepared with our own hands simply, on a budget, three times a day. And if that sounds like a lot of work…..well, it is. Our kitchen reflects efficiencies and tools so personal they make sense to no one but us. It will never be featured in magazines, stolen by AI or be the envy of Instagram.
My daughter once said the sound of the cookie jar lid lifting is the soundtrack of her childhood. My cupboards need to be painted. I’ve worn a path in the hardwood by the island, the herbs need to be hung to dry, and my fridge needs to be cleaned. “When things slow down”, I mutter to myself.
It’s where I triage what needs to be done to keep us eating well and everyone knows to gather here three times a day.
It smells, looks and feels of real life. Why would I want to ruin it by making it perfect?