The Second Generation of Kitchen Therapy

I remember trying so hard to sit still and calm down in school when I knew that weekend we were having company. Both my parents have a lot of siblings who, much to my never ending joy, produced multiple children per family. As a result, I am one of dozens of cousins within a ten year span. Needless to say, I’ve had built in best friends my entire life. When one of those glorious weekends would roll around and I knew we’d be having guests, it was the happiest I could ever be. For once in my lazy childhood I’d pick up the vacuum hose and haphazardly scoot my toys into one corner of my room in preparation. My mother would be looking haggard, to be quite honest, from the never ending cooking and cleaning, and my dad would be licking his chops over a new bottle or two of scotch to share.

Those weekends would come and go so quickly. There would be harrowing tales of love unrequited or denied and, without a doubt, a squabble or two over whose turn it was in the bathroom. People camped out on sofas and floors on a makeshift bed, yet no one ever complained. And everyone would informally gather around the table in the kitchen. Sometimes in packs, sometimes in pairs - all in search of a snack and some answers. Both were always found.

Saying goodbye on the sidewalk as family after family pulled away filled our entire house with quiet. Dinner that night was leftovers – but no one ever really ate much. By Monday the feeling was completely gone and would only return once the photos were developed; sometimes that didn’t happen for weeks.

Over the years we’ve done a satisfactory job of staying in touch, but the weekends of noise and laughter have never returned like they once were. The kids who once spent hours trying on each other’s clothes have all grown up and undertaken grown up jobs; their own families now taking precedence over aunts, uncles and cousins.

But now, I get to play host. It’s on a much smaller scale – just two of my cousins, but it will be the first time I’ve ever had overnight guests over to my apartment. The food is all prepared and fresh towels are folded nicely in the cupboard, but my home is missing something.

Everyone can agree that the house revolves around the kitchen. It’s where a kitchen chair can magically transform into a therapeutic leather sofa and the never ending grazing manages to whet your appetite even more. There being just two in our home generally means we eat in front of the TV. This scenario isn’t really conducive to company, so a proper dining table must be purchased from Cymax.

It might be a bit touchy-feely of me, but I already anticipate the exchange of news and wine over a comfortable, stylish dining table that will, with any luck, house a new generation of memories. Perhaps next time there will be children of our own . . . or better yet, an extra bottle of wine.