VG Kitchen Remodel: The Final Reveal

So we started with this:

Beat up. Old. Tired. No working appliances. An extra door. Five god damn layers of linolium. Popcorn ceilings. Sofits. Broken pipes. Busted cabinetry. A light box. Scratched paint.

You get the idea.

Now. Three months later, a lot of backbreaking work, too many trips to Home Depot, and more than a few spousal arguments and grey hairs later.

-SHAZAM!-

Stalwart: Pickled Jalapenos

-Spicy perfection.-

I was pretty much an angelic child. I rarely ever got in trouble and had an immaculate record in school. When I got home from school I would do my chores (clean the bathroom, clean up the dog messes in the yard, check if any dishes need cleaning) and then immediately do my homework. All of this, mind you, without being asked. My parents, a therapist and a third grade teacher, pretty much had me trained.

Aside from that my manners were impeccable due to years cotillion and manners classes (which, yes, is an actual thing people subject their children to), and my mom stabbing me repeatedly in the arm with a fork at the dinner table whenever she saw my elbow even caress the tabletop. Secretly, I think she delighted when she pitchforked me in the funny bone.

I was, however, a rather picky eater. A very picky eater. Partially because when it came to food I was willful. No cauliflower, no creamed corn, no asparagus, no peaches, no strawberries, no spinach, no carrots, no peas, nothing unrecognizable, and no steamed vegetables at all. And they were always steamed, so I never got why my mom didn't just cut them up raw and save herself the trouble.

The Cons: Vanilla Bean & Ghost Pepper Kumquat Marmalade

The kitchen is close to done. Not quite, but almost. That's another story, which at the moment I am unable to tell because if I do I'll suffer a conniption fueled from pure rage. So apologies if I need a week or two in order keep my blood inside my head on not spritzed upon my newly painted teal walls.

"And aren't they a beautiful shade of teal?!" is what I howl to the poor Mormon missionaries and UPS delivery men who by bad luck or unfortunate karma are forced to come to my door. Some are smart enough to run before I begin to detail how I installed the Cotton Valley Oak flooring. 

Instead, I'll bitch about something else today. First world problems. Who else has got 'em, right? How terrible it is that I am spending the Pride weekend in my brand new house putting together brand new Ikea furniture? How I suffer eating in my new dining room. What is that, husband? You picked up the wrong wine for the roast chicken with apricots? We can't drink Chardonnay! WHAT ARE WE, SAVAGES?!

So it hasn't been that bad, but let's talk fruit trees again. I know I was overjoyed at the prospect of now having them and how I was going to plant more, but I have quickly familiarized myself with the "con" side of the list.

Allow me to elaborate a few of these items:

VG Kitchen Remodel: Flooring & Blueberry Gorgonzola Tartines

-Behold! I have harnessed the power of the Earth itself!-

Cooking today. Really really. Aren't you so proud of me?

Enough of that, I have floors! We splurged on this, I admit. We got the really nice laminate floors that can withstand a nuclear bomb so I assume they can take the clackity treading of corgi nails. It's called Cotton Valley Oak and it is stunning to look at. You would never know they're laminate and not actual hard wood. We went with the spongier pads, too, so the floor doesn't have the telltale hollow echo laminate can sometimes have. We are installing it ourselves, which is a pain in the butt but saves us about $700.

On the plus side for me it means husband is always working in just a pair of shorts. So, yay there.

It's beautiful and I am so happy not to be walking on busted up and dusty concrete. Huzzah.

But you're probably here because I promised cooking.

VG Kitchen Remodel: Cabinets and Other Things

-Now all these walls need is a kitchen. And paint. Paint would also be nice.-

Can we talk about fast food for a second and without all the jerk-y knee jerk reactions about how it's incredibly processed, and how it's bad for me, and how it's evil, and how it's quite possibly responsible for the collapse of our foodways, and how your cousin heard that McDonald's was secretly funding an underground Nazi terrorist group that is strong in organization but where all members have terrible heart conditions and struggle to breath? (Did you not hear about that? It was in the underground blogs.)

Let's be honest. People wouldn't eat it if it didn't taste good. Second, I had a chocolate-filled croissant and two cups of black tea with cream and white sugar for breakfast today. You can't argue that that wasn't just as unhealthy as anything through the drive-thru window.

Anyways, can we all just agree that McDonald's fries are just the bee's knees? Yes, without a kitchen I have had to throw myself at the world of eating out, and while part of that entails discovering new restaurants there have also been forays into the Monsanto-supported Golden Arches and others of its similar grease-up-the-paper-bag-till-you-can-see-through-it ilk.