I am both fascinated and challenged by the notion of a small kitchen. My past kitchens have been spacious … room for tables and chairs and big things like “islands”. But having moved to California’s Peninsula where space comes at a very hefty price, the kitchen I was destined to own was going to be extremely small. This notion was born out when we closed on a 600 square foot bungalow from the 1920’s. 

I do want to preface this whole post by saying that I love to cook. Eating out for me, especially now, is a not-too-often thing… mostly because I really do like eating what I’ve cooked. So I’m not the person that stores her shoes in the oven or keeps just a bottle of milk in the refrigerator and a can of tuna in the pantry. 

I should also tell you that not only did the bungalow have no closets (at all… and that’s another blog post), it had no washer/dryer. Having no illusions of spending hours in the laundromat every few days., I knew I had to scare up space somewhere for those appliances and other than the living room (now there’s a novel idea), the kitchen was the only place.

Here’s the conversation I was having in my head as I undertook the project: