When I imagine the perfect kitchen it has nothing to do with a vast expanse of clinical melamine and self closing drawers. It is always a collage of all the simple, rustic kitchens that the best meals have appeared from over the years - the functional, time worn kitchens that exude warmth and hospitality, that reflect their owner’s authentic love of food and their delight in sharing their cooking with friends and family.

When I was a child, my stepfather who was born in India, would spend hours creating elaborate Indian feasts in our small, dark kitchen in Lyttelton. The view from the kitchen window was a towering cement retaining wall peppered with ambitious fern seedlings and criss crossed with glassy tracks from the enormous native slugs who would come out at night and embark on vertical journeys, like nocturnal cartographers tracing a map for others to follow.  Moths would gently pelt against the window panes covered in condensation from the busy stove as my stepdad fried chapatis, stirred dahl and baked curry.  Limes would have been left to dry for days on an upturned wooden boat on the lawn and the resulting chutney would simmer on the back element billowing sour, citrus steam. There was a simple, water stained wooden bench, some cupboards, a stove and a fridge - the workspace was narrow and challenging as it also served as a thoroughfare to the bathroom which was absurdly placed at one end of the kitchen. A parade of exotic and delicious dishes would appear like some sort of culinary alchemy from this humble kitchen - friends would gather, laughter would peel through the spice infused night and I learned unequivocally that great food is not dependent on a glossy kitchen island with a negative detail and a Zaha Hadid tap.  

Life has continued to provide countless examples of unforgettable meals produced by formidable cooks in modest surroundings. Every visit to Paris means catching up with some dear friends and an inimitable pizza night at their charming apartment. Channeling his Neapolitan heritage, our amazing friend disappears into their tiny, cupboard sized kitchen and a flurry of miraculous, inventive and delicious pizzas appear rivaling any exalted Italian contenders - the absolute highlight of every trip. Sadly this treasured pizza ritual was curtailed by Covid last time so we are already looking forward to the next time - no pressure you know who ...

Paris involves many rituals it seems as you get older, visiting cherished places to enjoy them once more or simply to check that they are still in existence - our last trip was no exception. There is a particular little café where we have enjoyed countless first lunches in Paris - it became our routine.  Sadly, it had been quite some years since our last visit but we set off armed with nostalgia and optimism to rekindle our past. To our delight this small, unobtrusive cafe was still clinging to its corner in the Marais like a defiant limpet on a precarious rock, as the tide of time, epidemics and progress battered against its door it has somehow remained intact and unchanged. The same bespectacled gentleman greeted us from behind the zinc clad bar, his hair greyer now but suitably tousled in an Einstein caught in a mistral kind of way which worked perfectly with his buttoned blue waistcoat and the bottle of chilled Sancerre clasped in his hand. Our tartes aux poireaux et chèvre were cooked and delivered by the same elderly lady, surely too elderly to still be working - but here she was. As the kitchen door swung back and forth it revealed glimpses of the small kitchen preserved in 1940’s simplicity - functional, unadorned and thankfully still delivering the same seasonal and delectable menu du jour.

I am always spellbound whenever I find myself in front of a delicious meal created with sincerity in simple surroundings. Long may these honest and unassuming kitchen wonders continue as a charming and authentic alternative to the pervasive modern, homogenised dining experience.

When I imagine the perfect kitchen I see a beautiful wooden bench, patinated by years of use, sturdy wooden drawers, a marble surface perhaps, for pastry or hot plates and the charm of a past history, a story to tell. I imagine this wonderful early 20th century, English counter - functional and fabulous, the perfect centre piece for the enduring kitchen of a devoted cook.