by Sandra Reynolds
I once designed an entire house around a walk-in pantry - not a kitchen, not a separate parents retreat, not a series of rooms with views, but a single walk-in spacious pantry with Room To Move.
In a day and age of spacious kitchens and pot drawers and scullery sinks and wok taps, I get turned on by the fantasy of a pantry designed to my own specifications. Sadly, the houses I have lived in have never come close to offering what I would like, and I have made do with corner cupboards and floor-to-ceiling shelving. But oh, what I could do ….
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Firstly, my fantasy pantry would be a separate space to the main kitchen, appearing as a doorway but leading the length of the room. There would be a skylight for ample light to see things with, and inset along one wall would be a fridge, matching freezer and separate wine fridge. Along the opposite wall would be a bench at my height (I’m above average height) and inlaid would be lengthy slabs of marble and stone for keeping things coolish, rather than icy cold – butter and eggs for example.
Above the bench would be a series of shelves, all lined with butchers paper which could be replaced regularly, and each shelf would be topped with canisters with hand-written labels.
There would be separate containers for 00, spelt and wholemeal flour; for muscovado, demerara, palm and vanilla-infused caster sugars; dried pastas in about four different varieties as well as jasmine and carnaroli rice, rice sticks, rice papers, and soba noodles, all in tall airtight jars. I would carefully lay out in order of height jars for dried fruits – currants, sultanas, raisins, cranberries, dates, ginger in delicate patterned jars - and pulses such as barley, red, brown and puy lentils, polenta, freekah and semolina, couscous, split peas, chickpeas, cannellini beans and black eyed peas. There would be preserved fruits and vegetables like lemons, olives and beetroots, jars of passata, homemade chutneys and relishes, Seville orange and whisky marmalade and quince jelly. Hanging from the shelves would be plaited garlic, and late-harvested dried herbs, such as lavender, sage, thyme, bay, rosemary, all ready to be bagged up and hidden from the light for maximum freshness.
In an old wooden spice drawer, perhaps containing 30 small drawers, infused with the scent of the spices contained would be airtight parcels of ungrated nutmeg, cinnamon quills, star anise, mustard and nigella seed, saffron, sumac, ras el hanout, vanilla pods, paprika, fennel and coriander seeds, cumin pods, dried smoky chillies, cloves, sesame and poppy seeds. There would be stashes of chocolate in different cocoa percentages; airtight containers of arrowroot, citric acid, cream of tartar; pots of homemade curry pastes, bottles of flavoured vinegars and olive oils. There would be a tray of a liqueur bottles and spirits, such as Grand Marnier, Marsala, brandy, sherry, Frangelico for the inevitable additions they make to my cooking. Wicker baskets of onions, potatoes, kumera and pumpkin underneath the stone bench, and hidden away beside the baskets, huge stock pots, the picnic basket, a folded step ladder, a sack of rice.
A room of one’s own – for some it’s a shed or a workshop, but I know my preferences. One can but dream.