“In the kitchen next to the pantry
You think that might be what you fancy?”
Last year my husband remodeled half of my kitchen. When we bought our house, six years ago, the kitchen was in mid-demo. They were going to update it, we weren’t. I liked the fifties kitchen. Well, at least what was left of it. I decided to do CPR. My grandpa made two custom cabinets to fit between the stove and refrigerator that matched the vintage cabinets on the other side. But when it came time to put new formica in I realized that my kitchen didn’t really work. Why put money into something that didn’t work and simply seal the deal?
The sum of the matter was that I needed more counter space. I realized that if I got rid of the refrigerator I could have a huge stretch of uninterrupted counter. As an added bonus, I wouldn’t have to look at the hulking refrigerator. All it seemed to do anyways was sit in the corner and grumble, while feasting on feng shui by the truckload. I put it in the garage. “Take that,” I said. That’s when my husband drove me to Ikea and bought me a bank of kitchen cabinets and a whole slab of butcher block counter. Suh-weet. Except for that bit about the refrigerator being out in the garage and having to dodge out there every morning to retrieve my frozen milk. What to do about that?
Naturally, I had a plan. It involved uninvited conquest of the garage. After a year of frozen milk, husband finally surrendered the coveted 14 square feet. It was a day of victory. Slowly, but surely, a walk-in pantry began to make it’s appearance. And then, the day came to heave in the ol’ refrigerator and commence dry-walling. I was excited. Men with muscles came over and shoved the beast on it’s new platform. I ran back into the house from the garage and stopped in my tracks. Apparently a refrigerator is even bigger when it’s not hiding it’s unsightly nether regions behind cabinets. It took up the whole space. I could barely squeeze around it to what was going to be my new food storage and desk. And it was ugly. I marched right on over to Sears to do some research. Apparently, apart from dinky apartment fridges, all American refrigerators are huge, made of plastic, and wickedly expensive. I decided that perhaps a refrigerator less ugly might make up for it being so gigantic, and decided to troll Craigslist for a replacement. Besides, Craig always makes me feel better. That’s when I saw it. A svelte German refrigerator with a bottom freezer, LED lights, and 24″ footprint. Be still my beating heart.
Except it was $1600. Ahhem. Even I was shell shocked. But after a few days of looking at other ugly refrigerators, I couldn’t help myself. I popped off a short email to the owner saying that I could give him $1000 (this may or may not have been true). He wrote me back and said, “Sure.” I kid you not. I don’t think my husband would have gone for it if I hadn’t taken him to Sears the week before. After opening the doors on high-end “stainless” refrigerators and having them feel like they were going to fly away in his hand, he developed the proper appreciation for German engineering. Plus, I gave him $400 so he didn’t feel so dirty. It was worth it. My Liebherr totally redeems the space, as well as ups the ante in the whole kitchen. And, as a side-note, this song is starting to make a whole lot more sense.