I spent the last week in turbo, cleaning mode. I had one week to empty our pantry and kitchen for this Monday’s demolition. I scrubbed, boxed and labeled all the crazy things my mom decided to buy in bulk. Seven 16 inch quiche dishes, 30 yellow ceramic Bundt pans, ice cream makers, fondue pots and sushi mats. Usually when I clean I like to put on some Ella Fitzgerald or Billie Holiday and dance myself around the room. Sometimes I even buy flowers for my bedside table afterwards (I like daffodils the best. I enjoy walking home with them. However I do not like receiving flowers. They’re too forced and trite that way. While I’m a romantic, flowers require little thought…but I digress). This was no time for Ella. I couldn’t dance myself through the kitchen, adjusting things here and there. I was half balancing on chairs, hoping to not discover a dead mouse behind the walls.
While we drastically change our kitchen (mason lamps, butcher blocks, buttermilk countertops and barstools for all those times I want to sit you down and drink you up), I’ll be cooking in the laundry room on a hot plate. And you know what? Hot plate be damned, shrimp was on sale last night and I sure made ’em. I am excited for the change. I hope to frame a few of my mom’s photographs around the kitchen and some old recipe cards of hers from the 50’s. It was strange to remove some of my mom’s relics (like unopened holiday tins that were still marked on sale from Zabars). Many things no one has touched in years. I think it is a sign of my own healing process that I was able to throw some of her stuff out. She would have been embarrassed to find all that she hoarded behind the dishwasher anyway.