Kitchen Wars

The Wall Street Journal isn’t just for financial news. They like to address all kinds of lifestyle and home issues, too, such as When the Kitchen Knives Come Out.

This article cracked me up. It shows how couples do battle around food preparation.

It reminds me that, when single, you often lose sight of your preferences. After all, there are few people to challenge you. But, getting married? Well, all of a sudden someone says Dukes’ mayonnaise is better than Hellmans’ and all hell breaks loose.

When you get married later in life there are other issues, as well. You are in the unfortunate position to merge two fully-formed kitchens. Which dish set is the best? Who’s coffee maker do we keep? And, who has the best whisk? (For the record, it’s mine.) Do we really need 12 pewter  authentic beer steins?

There are the territory issues that arise in the kitchen. All that constant bumping butts over the sink as one is trying to open the cutlery drawer.

Of course, there is protecting the food altogether.

And, then, there are the clean-up issues.

Husband and I have an ongoing battle of who loads the dishwasher best. I say the cutlery should go face down. The dirty ends will be hit with soapy water first. Husband insists all utensils should stand right side up. They get cleaner that way, he says. But I ask, how do you get them OUT without putting your hands on the “eating” ends? End of cleanliness.

One of the first kitchen wars we had was over the sponge. Apparently I kept leaving the sponge face down in the sink versus standing on its end so it would drain near the faucet. This was tantamount to sin.

Of course, Husband leaves the water running and running and running while he’s busy wiping counters (occasionally). I say it’s environmentally incorrect. Then I get a lecture about water conservation and drought and how water running down the drain isn’t causing us to have less water. I stand my ground. He continues to let the water run.

I also learned that the stove has special meaning to Husband. If there was one drop of juice that dared to touch the bottom of the oven, he’d put it on self clean. This makes our townhouse smell like a chemical factory. Husband doesn’t mind. Even when I cough so much I have to leave the house. Now, Husband is not allowed to ever to touch the self-clean function on the stove. (For the record, our stove looks brand new at all times because Husband is also obsessed with the stovetop being crystal clean – inside and out. We’re talking cleaning and then shining with Windex afterward. Yes, he’s in charge of that. I have better things to do.)

But, nothing showcases our different kitchen styles like our ongoing battle over how many implements are the “right amount” to use when cooking or baking. I use whatever is within easy reach – even if it means pulling out the fourth spoon to stir that pot. Husband believes one should use the least amount of dishes at all time. Less to clean, he says. This is hysterical to me because I do 90 percent of the cleaning anyway.  Hmmm. He refuses to clean up after me. Maybe he’s got a little racket going on there.  

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