Following the great kitchen debate

Every so often I am reminded about the distinct difference in viewpoints between the male and female of our species.

There are rare occasions when we are not actually that far apart and can generally agree on a consensual course of action.

And then there are the times when one gender or the other simply capitulates for the good of the relationship.

And now that the soap box has been rudely pulled from under my feet, I will explain.

I’m not exactly sure how we got on the topic recently, but Holly and I held a discussion about kitchens.

She felt as though an open, airy kitchen that allowed unlimited access to the rest of the communal living areas was “the way to go.”

I on the other hand feel as though a limited access kitchen, preferably one hidden from view of the rest of the communal living areas, is “the way to go.”

It’s a friendly debate.

I’m not sure why we differ so greatly in our opinions, unless it really has to do with that ages-old distinction in gender-induced thought processes.

But we do.

If I had to break it down, I’d probably say that my preference is because a secluded kitchen allows me to skip doing the dishes on occasion without having to undergo the stares from the females that visit the house.

I would also have to say that, like most men, I can be very unconcerned at home with where I scratch, and a secluded kitchen allows me to take care of my posterior regions without fear of reprisal from more sensitive eyes as I prepare the food.

And occasionally it allows me to take advantage of the “three-second rule” in food preparation. We’ve all heard of that one. If the food hits the floor for three seconds or less, we can just pick it up and go on about our business, no harm done.

With an open kitchen concept, that rule might get challenged.

The males I know also tend to want smaller, more compact kitchens than our female counterparts. Personally, I want everything to be no more than one step away. If everything is less than an arm’s reach away, I would be giddy with excitement. I could stand in one spot and just twist to make an entire gourmet meal.

Holly doesn’t seem to care if she has to take steps to reach the fridge, or steps to reach the sink, or steps to reach the spice cabinet.

I think it makes for a colossal waste of time.

Then the conversation turned to kitchen cabinetry.

Here, we are diametrically opposed in thought process.

Holly would like to have wall-to-wall cabinets, with all the shelves less than six feet off the floor so her short self can reach them all without a chair or step stool.

I would spend my life bumping into cabinets at about shoulder level until I got fed up with the entire process and unscrewed the cabinets from the wall.

She would like to have a pantry. She would like to have a photo shelf, a curio cabinet and a china hutch thrown in for good measure, even though we have no good china because she’s not allowed to use glass. (That’s a story for later.)

Her ideal cabinet set up has lots of drawers and shelves, each with a front, or door, that has to be opened each and every time.

To me, that’s an open invitation to leave doors open so I can bang my head on them in the middle of the night when I raid the fridge for a snack or a beer.

Of course, the loud cursing when that happens is probably the result she desires as it would alert her to me sneaking a snack and a beer from the fridge in the middle of the night.

If I were to design a kitchen cabinet set up, I would go roust up about 30 milk crates. I would simply screw the crates to the wall. Pots, pans, stove utensils, hot pads, spices and assorted things would go in the crates next to the stove. That’s where I need them. Starches and veggies, along with a can opener, would go in the crates on the other side of the stove. That’s where I need them.

The spare beer, sodas, bottle opener and ice pick would go in the crates next to the fridge. That’s where I need them.

Plates, bowls, cups and eating utensils would go in the crates next to those, toward the stove, because…..that’s where I need them.

I would screw four crates together, screw a piece of old door down on two sets of that and call it a table. I would eat standing most of the time, because I’m sure that if I had a kitchen like that I would be single.

Why crates?

Glad you asked.

Crates have no doors or drawer fronts.

No banging my head on doors left open. No banging my hip on open drawers. No noise when I hit those various objects during my late night snack and beer run.

It’s the perfect “guy” kitchen. Everything is an arm’s reach away, no doors or drawers to open. Efficient.

And then I free up all that space for more important things…like a big-screen television.

Or maybe a pool table.

Possibly a foosball table.

I could put the workbench in the living room with all that extra space so I could screw together more crates for the kitchen while I watch Sunday football.

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