Kitchen

IMG_6975I am a food fanatic.

I love food. Not just any food, but quality food, nutritious food, elegant food, tasty food, exotic food. I truly enjoy food: shopping for it, cooking and creating it, eating it, serving it.I love checking out new restaurants. I read foodie blogs. I watch foodie shows like MasterChef and a number of kitchen-variety shows. I am amazed by the new breed of food-creation tools—moulds, pipes, smokers, mixers, crushers, sprayers, vacuum sealers, siphon guns, blow torches. . . .

Both my pantry and my cupboards show my food obsession. And this was a great cause of concern for me when I started down the minimalist path. What was I to do with all this food-related stuff?

Lucky for me I had an ‘out’ clause: creating, serving and eating food brings me joy. By the ‘rules’ of minimalism, I’m allowed to keep stuff that brings me joy, right?

Joy is a very subjective term and, while the various food experiences brought me immense gratification, the cupboards full of ingredients, containers, pans, cookbooks and utensils was not a joy to me. It brought added stress: storage, use-by dates, unopened multiple bags of ingredients (they were on sale at some time I’m sure), washing up, mess. . . .

So here’s what I did.

I started small.

My first attempt at de-stressing my food life was to decide that one-quarter of all my food-related gear had to go. If I had two of something, one got donated to the op shop. If I hadn’t used a cookbook since I bought it, it was gone. I got a stack of glass jars and put all my ingredients in them, labelled and visible, only replacing ingredients when the jar was empty.

I created a few basic rules.

Do not buy anything just because it’s on sale and I plan to ‘use it someday.’ My cupboards were overflowing with excess flour, sugar, nuts, grains, flavourings. I had a huge jar of maraschino cherries my mum bought me 4 years ago in the back of one cupboard and a mini-muffin maker in the back of another.

No more cookbooks. There is so much now online that hard copy cookbooks are no longer necessary in my life. (As it is, I hardly ever use them except for getting ideas.)

Clear the counter tops. I saw Josh Becker’s kitchen counters on YouTube after watching the Minimalism documentary and that ‘blank slate look’ was my goal—but it didn’t work out that way for me. I still have our coffee maker (can’t live without!), fruit bowl (healthy snacks) and knife block (easy-to-reach) on the counter and our stainless steel dish drainer lives on the sink. There is a candle and a box of tissues in the corner, but, apart from these few everyday-use items, our counters are clean and clear.

If you already have one, don’t buy another. I had accumulated multiple sets of things simply because I liked the look of those glasses, even though I already had a set in the cupboard, or I needed (no, I had convinced myself I needed) that kind of mug, even though the ones I had at home worked just as well.

Clean the Fridge. No more bills, photos (apart from on each of my kids and their partners), or takeaway menus hung piecemeal by magnets, clips or blu-tak.

Get rid of the catch-all spaces. In my case, I chucked out a multi-compartment wooden box we had been using for bills, pens, paper, mail and lots of other useful and useless items. I replaced this with one drawer and a drawer tidy, throwing out 90% of what that catch-all space had ‘caught.’ I still can access a pen if I need one, and I know where the stamps are, but they are not taking up counter space.

Always leave the kitchen better than you found it. I borrowed this from Cambria Bold (www.thekitchn.com). She explains that: ‘This might mean quickly wiping down the table when they pass through the room, or taking the water glasses out of the sink and loading them in the dishwasher. It means always looking at your kitchen with a discerning eye and asking yourself: “What small thing can I do in this moment to make my kitchen a little bit better?” Small things grow up to be great habits.’

I made shopping easier. I did this by refusing to allow myself to be sucked into sales or ‘bulk buy’ specials. I also started creating a shopping list and am (slowly) learning to stick to it. As Vicki reminded me just the other day, ‘The shop’s only up the road. If you find out that we really need that, you can just run up the hill and buy it.’ That’s a great line, especially since I usually find that I don’t need that item after all.

The kitchen is still a work in progress, I am still a MasterChef addict. And, although my Instagram is still filled with food creations, I am finding out that so much is possible with a lot less, and the additional effort exerted when you perhaps don’t have the exact tool you need makes the resulting dish all the more delicious.

Explore Further

Bargains (ozminimalist.com)

The 10 Commandments of a Clutter Free Kitchen (thekitchn.clom)

The Best Route to a Cleaner Kitchen (realsimple.com)

The 19 Items You Need on Your Next Grocery List (Huntington Post)

 

Bargains

“We might need it someday.”

“It’s too good a deal to pass up.”

“At that price, I’d better get two.”

How many times have we caught ourselves saying these or similar things? I must admit that I have made such declarations many times, usually at the bargain shop or in the throes of end-of-season sales.

If that’s not enough, we receive reams of unsolicited sales paraphernalia in our letterbox or in the mail, urging us to “Buy now,” and telling us “This offer is for a limited time.” Bring on the mind-insulting rug, furniture or car ads to TV that tell us that these are “never-to-be-repeated prices,” and we can’t believe how quickly the money has flown from our wallet or bank account.

File 1-06-2016, 1 19 40 PMAnd this is how we use our free time. Shopping is the new religion. Malls are the new places of worship. Sales are the worship services. Bargains are the gods. We are fanatics, addicted to the feeling of completeness a full shopping bag seems to bring. As Michelle Castillo writes, “There’s nothing as addicting as a cheap buy.”

Correct that to a “perceived cheap buy,” because, as we are all aware, very few places ever sell everything at Recommended Retail Price (RRP). That’s simply a stated figure that retailers use to show how great a discount they will offer to secure your custom. And we fall for it, spending billions  in shopping centres and mega-malls every year. Then there are online retailers, local and international. Then there are the increasing number of social shopping sites such as Groupon, Zazz, Catch of the Day and Daily Deal and it’s all the easier to be tempted to exchange your hard-earned dollars for things to clutter your home and life.

Someone once told me, “A bargain is only a bargain if you need it.”

But how often do we buy something we think we “need” when, in fact, it’s not necessary and adds no value whatever to our life?

Like the bike I’ve ridden once.

Like the new tool I had to have and used it for the first time in the three years since its purchase.

Like that dozen Krispy Kreme® donuts (I really needed those? All of them?)

It’s time we learn how to say “No” when confronted with the purpose-written advertisements and dazzling billboards. We must learn to question our purchases and to abstain from the “just in case” mentality.

If it doesn’t add real value to your life, regardless of how cheap it is, it’s not a bargain—it’s an unnecessary expense.

Explore Further

Social Buying Motivated by Psychology, Not a Great Deal (Time.com)

Shop ‘til You Drop: Battling Compulsive Shopping (Australian Psychological Society)

Anti-consumerism is the New Democracy (abc.net.au)

Assembly Required (Is shopping the new religion?) (The Guardian)