I have what may be the tiniest kitchen you’ve ever seen.
Not that I hate it. Quite the contrary. But it took a while to get used to 9 square feet of workspace (it’s true — I measured just about 2.2 seconds ago).
When we first moved into this apartment, the tiny kitchen felt like the one blemish in an otherwise flawless (okay, not flawless — it was built in 1910 after all) space. Squeezing more than one person in there felt impossible, and I avoided the kitchen out of frustration.
But now, I love it.
I love that it takes 5 minutes to clean. 10 if I’m doing a hardcore scrubdown.
I love that I know exactly where everything is at all times — there’s no way you can lose something in that little space.
I love that it challenges me. Working in this small space pushes me — and every time I whip up a new culinary creation, I feel ridiculously (embarrassingly) proud that it came out of the tiniest kitchen ever.
So, I’ve opted to celebrate my miniscule kitchen with a (I know) hashtag — you can now follow #thetiniestkitchen on Instagram to see all of my latest creations.
xo