My friends and I roasted a huge Thanksgiving turkey in that little 20" oven. We set the heat, popped it in, and took off for the parade (this seems absolutely crazy to me now - to leave the oven unattended). Hours later, we returned and feasted and it was good.
I baked my best rhubarb pie to date in that same oven. It was 4th of July and I served it a la mode. My guests were Chinese and hadn't had such a dessert before and it was quite apparent that they didn't like it. But I knew is was one special pie - one I haven't been able to match to this day.
The second Thanksgiving in this home, my then-boyfriend (now-husband) and I opted for stuffed cornish hens. I hunted for the little birds in about seven different markets around the neighborhood until I tracked them down.
Those wicker bar stools came from my neighbor's trash. I watched her put them out there, then waited 'til the coast was clear to run out and bring them into my apartment. I remember being too embarrassed to just approach her and ask if I could take them off her hands while she was putting them on the curb. Finally, it was so nice to have an alternative to sitting on the floor for meals!
Do you remember your first kitchen? Was it a humble little one? What did you love about it? What did you hate? Please share below!
(Image: Regina Yunghans)