The kitchen island represented what I desperately craved: normalcy In the 19th century, kitchens were located in the backs of homes to keep them hidden from company. The center of the kitchen often featured an island made of wood, an unglamorous workplace built to aid with space. Beginning in the 1930s, Frank Lloyd Wright and other architects moved the kitchen to the front of the home, opening it up and allowing it to share space with the dining area.
As the kitchen changed, so did the shining jewel at the center of it: the kitchen island. By the 1950s, it had become more than a functional space. It was a gathering area for both guests and family to pull up a stool and come together. But it was also a luxury, as many homes were built without them, leaving families to buy cheap tables and prepare their food on narrow shelves. I grew up without a kitchen island, and I developed a minor obsession with them. Raised by my grandparents in a two-family home with an eat-in kitchen that was barely big enough, I wanted what I didn?t have. The kitchen island represented what I desperately craved: normalcy. My mother was a drug addict who?d left me to move to the other side of the country, so I fantasized about a single-family home with all the suburban joys, including a kitchen with an island where everybody could gather on comfy stools.
A sleepover at a friend?s house in elementary school solidified my love for the kitchen island. Under pendant lights, we ate pizza while her ...