Renovating Towards Obesity

Did anyone else see this thought-provoking opinion piece on the last page of the Plain Dealer's "Forum" section?  It's also in the NY Times, for all of you Sunday New York Times readers.  I highly encourage you to peruse Dr. Neil Izenberg's compelling theory that our home makeovers promoting open-concept kitchens may contribute to the fact that most of our waistlines also need a makeover.  You can (and should!) read it here:
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/03/24/opinion/sunday/is-your-kitchen-a-health-hazard.html?_r=0

So many of us, even those with enviably comfortable homes, grew up with kitchens that were, at best, barely utilitarian...at worst, a visual cacophony of harvest gold and avocado appliances.  These kitchens were likely a room all to themselves. If you wanted more elegant dining, you had to move to the dining room.  If you wanted comfortable entertainment, you had to head towards the TV room.  If you wanted to impress your guests, you were probably going to hold court in the living room.  Because the kitchen was for cooking and that was about it.  Maybe, if there was room enough for a little table, you'd eat casual family meals in there.  But the kitchen was definitely not much of a showplace.

Then somewhere in the annuls of interior design, the kitchen became the most important room in the world.  Suddenly, regular people, even non-decorator types, knew what "Corian" was, the different type of statement made by Rutt versus Poggenpohl, and how it was imperative to have a proper "work triangle."  Additionally, regular people decided they quite liked the idea of downsizing their living and dining rooms in favor of a gorgeous, decorator kitchen (nearly a football field in length), complete with fully upholstered chairs, gas-fed fireplaces, enough barstools to seat the cast of Cheers, and a giant flat-screen TV.  The awe-inspiring kitchen became a prerequisite for anyone buying a home.  And regardless of whether or not the homeowner was much into cooking, the kitchen became the place to be.  All the time.

Could hanging out in our awesome kitchens all the time be the reason why America could stand to lose a few?  Izenberg suggests that it's altogether possible.

And of course we all know some impossibly thin person with the biggest, best-est kitchen in which they do everything except sleep, but still I feel really drawn to explore this theory.

I remember that when I bought my second home, which had the ugliest little fire-engine red galley kitchen, I was overjoyed at the pantry---a converted ironing board closet with a laughable dearth of shelf space.  I exclaimed right in front of the realtor who was clearly worried that this eyesore of a room was going to keep the house on the market for months:  "This is the BEST kitchen. We can't get fat!  There's no room for a bag of chips in here!" 

Izenberg also talks about how parents used to declare the kitchen "closed" after dinner.  After the pots were scrubbed or the dishwasher was loaded, no one was allowed to dirty more dishes. And no one did. There was no hanging out and nibbling all night long.  I think that's a terrific and simple concept we lost along the way.  And while I freely admit that I just love that communal feeling when, after a long party, the guests seat themselves at the kitchen island and continue to chat and share,  all the while picking at whatever is left of the smorgasbord that was earlier served on the counter-top, I think I could drop a dress size if I didn't attend parties (and nibble on leftovers) like that.

Maybe it's time we downsize in more ways than one.