If you’ve reached your current level in life thinking the kitchen to be a place where angelic kids gather to finish their homework while you hover over deliciously bubbling pots awaiting your darling spouse to waft in at some point and gather your domestic goddess into his thankful arms, you’re wrong.
So wrong that wrong isn’t even the word you’re looking for.
The kitchen instead is the very cesspool of mystery and intrigue where implements vanish without a trace, every button has a dual purpose invisible to you, and your independent kids turn into whiny savants demanding a snack while you harry about preparing supper.
However, stress no more. I’m here to explain away 5 mysteries of my own kitchen that have baffled me for some time. I now have theories about them, which I will generously share with you. I do not promise a solution, no, only closure.
Where do my best knives GO?
If you’ve ever felt like this, it’s normal. Best knives disappear; it happens. It takes weeks, even months, to get attached to a new knife. After spending all that time molding the knife to your palm, perfecting the blade angle for maximum efficiency, getting used to its presence in the dishwasher, it’s hard not to mourn its loss. As hard as it is to bear, know that it was likely you who threw it into the trash. I’m not accusing anyone here, it was purely accidental. You were absent minded one day and while sweeping the vegetable refuse off the cutting board swept away your favorite knife as well. This amnesia probably lasted until the next garbage day — the point of no return — after which, kicking yourself doesn’t help. Move on.
Who clutters my counters?!
It’s not elves, it’s not trolls. It’s your own flesh and blood gone riotous. If your kitchen counter is centrally located (like mine) and is often a scene of family activity, consider its clutteredness a given and your expectation otherwise a naive fallacy. As soon as you find a place for everything on it (rightful or not) and dare to wipe it down, your counter will develop magnetic properties and attract everything within its vicinity again. You had no idea, you say? Well, now you do. Know also that there is no point in cleaning your kitchen counter after 3pm on weekdays or any time on weekends.
Why are there so many settings on my KitchenAid mixer?
Don’t know about you but I’ve never gone beyond setting #6 on mine. I haven’t needed it, plus at a 6 the machine behaves like a maniac toddler trying to get his pants off, hissing and trembling precariously on its hinges. What needs so much beating/aerating as to use the highest setting, #10? Egg whites? Heavy cream? Dreams? I do not have a clear answer for this one, but apparently at least 0.02% of amateur cooks use that setting so it must be feasible to have it there. Use it at your own risk.
What does an empty dishwasher look like?
Probably like a machine with racks and stuff. I haven’t had a chance to confirm this yet since mine is always loaded — either smelling of clean, sanitized dishes or of myriad meals. If you like the look of an empty dishwasher you will need to invent a machine that unloads clean dishes as soon as the cycle is up. I haven’t done this yet, so unfortunately I have to complete this “character-building” exercise myself* every time my sink groans under the weight of its dirty load. The way I see it you have a choice: the sight of a loaded sink or a loaded dishwasher. Which do you prefer?
(*Asking the hubby to do this chore makes me nervous. The next time I go to grab a serving spoon, I will reach the butter knife instead. Cussing at that moment doesn’t help; he hasn’t realized the importance of putting everything in its right place, and probably never will.)
Why is it called a self-cleaning oven?
Technically, self cleaning works when the oven heats whatever you’ve dropped in there to a burnt mess making it easy for you to scrape/wipe it out of there. The key word here that you’ve been missing is YOU. You’re not the only one who expected a sparkling oven after running it through the “self cleaning” instead of ending up with exactly the same dirty oven as before only now with a broken fuse. If it makes you feel any better, you’ve got company. Lots and lots of it. In fact, you’re lucky if you got out of it with only the frustration of a failed experiment rather than an unusable box of charred crumbs. Next time, YOU should just wipe down your oven after a baking session and call it a day.
**All pictures courtesy Google Images.