In and out of the Kitchen

There are lots of things going on these days, politically, economically and sociologically. Many things are changing, and we will find out soon enough if it’s for better or for worse, I suppose. All points of view are available in various media and I have nothing to add to that.
I do have an opinion on a recent phenomenon that can’t change fast enough for me. The “bigger is better” concept. Not just the super-sized fast food and drinks, which are written about and discussed extensively, but a lot of other things too. For instance, in the US, the average home size was 2,330 square feet in 2004, up from 1,400 square feet in 1970. What do we do with so much space? Well, one of the things I have noticed particularly are the luxury kitchens. Never mind that no one seems to stay home and cook in them since at any given moment restaurants are always full. At least it seems that way at the ones I go to, bad economy and all. Nonetheless, these new kitchens are loaded with the latest in kitchen design and technology; beautiful cabinets and islands, Sub-Zero refrigerators, and oversized beautiful stoves that rival their restaurant cousins.

It could be that I’m just jealous. I have always been a bit partial to great stoves. Stove culture – kinda like car culture that guys have, only domesticated. I know, I know – saying that just perpetuates gender stereotypes. But I have to admit I do love the power and possibility encased in all that metal and chrome that is a stove, even if it can’t physically take me anywhere. Viking stoves, Wolf Stoves, Aga, so much food and history!

I haven’t always felt this way about stoves. It’s possible my romance with stoves started when we, Steve and I, acquired a free one some years ago. Not just any old stove, but what I consider a classic, once the crème de la crème of stoves, an O’Keefe and Merritt.

The day we acquired the stove started typically enough. It was a warm summer Saturday and Steve and I were on our way to the beach. The duplex we were living in at the time was about 6 blocks away from our favorite beach spot, which was beside the bay in Belmont Shore. We rode our bikes there in order to be able to carry our beach chairs, towels and snacks more easily.
As we rode down our neighborhood streets we looked around, as always to see what was going on. At one particular corner there was a lot of activity and apparently what was going on there was remodeling because there was a stove, just sitting at the curb. Even from a distance it looked pretty interesting so we stopped to check it out. It was the old style traditional white with 4 burners and a griddle in the middle, one baking and one broiling/grilling oven with something called a "Grill-a-vator". As we explored it we also noted it had a neat bifold top that converted to a shelf, salt and pepper shakers and a clock with timer.

This was a fabulous piece of furniture, more than a mere stove! We wondered aloud why it was out there and if it was a discard. As we were standing there the homeowner came out and we chatted a bit and found out they were in fact remodeling their kitchen. They were going for all new and nifty, no room for the old stuff including said stove. Well, we loved the stove. And, we did have an old 1920’s style kitchen that it would look great in. So Steve asked what they wanted for it, assuming they just wanted to get rid of it, which did turn out to be the case. The guys struck a deal, one case of (good) beer and, we had to haul it away.

They shook on it and off we continued to the beach. As we lay in the sun we discussed how we would get it home. Our duplex unit was upstairs in a Spanish style building with an outside staircase. Since we lived just blocks from where the stove was it seemed wasteful, given our limited financial resources, to rent a trailer to pick it up. And those stoves are really heavy, so lifting it into a truck bed, should be able to borrow one, would be really tricky. We had a couple of hours of sun time and then left the beach for home. After dropping off our bikes and other gear, we went back to the stove, hoping to come up with a logical answer on how to transport it by staring at it. The ex-owner came up with a unique idea, he would lend us a large dolly to put under the stove, and cable to tie around it, and we could pull it home. Since we lived only a few blocks from there it seemed like a good solution. After securing it as much as was possible, off we went, Steve yoked at the front, providing the strength and pulling it, and I at the back, holding onto the stove, making sure it didn’t slide off the dolly and sort of steering it.

Belmont Shore is a small community of narrow neighborhood streets and so negotiating our way slowly down the street wasn’t as big a problem as it might be in a busier place. All went well for several blocks with any cars that we encountered making their way around us gingerly, but graciously. What we had forgotten until we got there was that one of the streets we needed to cross was a major business thoroughfare, Second Street. But we were already on our way and there was no getting around it so we just pulled and pushed onward. When we got to the street we looked both ways and started out, I taking the lead and holding out up my hand like a traffic cop while Steve pulled his awkward load across.

It must have been quite a sight; a guy dressed in shorts and flip-flops pulling a rope with a bulky white appliance on wheels at the end of it. We got a lot of surprised looks from motorists, along with a few friendly waves, horn honks and some words of encouragement.

After that adventure, once we got it home, the question of how to get it up the stairs paled by comparison; all that took was good neighbor Jim to help provide the muscle. And when the stove was in place, it was well worth it, it looked great - And surprisingly, worked great. This was the stove that Steve learned to cook pasta on, and that we both sharpened our culinary interests with. It comes as no surprise to me twenty years later that those forties-era stoves are considered classics and are highly prized. I wouldn’t mind having one again myself, although as splendid as it was at the time,I think now I would be more likely to obtain one in a more conventional way.