A Book Discussion
THE KITCHEN: A journey through history in search of the perfect design
by JOHN OTA (Toronto: Appetite by Random House, 2020)
Introduction and questions by Gordon S. Grice
Answers by John Ota
Julia Child’s kitchen, Washington, D.C.
Photo: John Ota
After months of being stuck at home in COVID isolation, many of us can now go out, cautiously, for a restaurant meal. But so much has changed. The carefree dining experience of a few months ago, crowding together in a cozy gastropub, huddling in a crowded jazz bistro – these are, for now, things of the past. For the foreseeable future, if we want to dine with friends in a relaxed indoor atmosphere, it will be in our own houses, prepared (or plated from take-out containers) in a domestic space that some of us have only now begun to fully appreciate – our very own kitchens.
A timely book has recently been published that elevates the appreciation of kitchens – their organization, their architectural design, their history and the food prepared therein – to a new level, appropriate to our circumstances. In a fluid narrative style, author John Ota takes us along on his trips to several historic North American kitchens where, for the most part, he is allowed to cook historic recipes. It turns out that the old-time food he cooks, some of it in ancient spaces, using antique equipment, is delicious. So are John’s descriptions, anecdotes and historical commentaries. It’s likely that when the barriers to dining out finally weaken, many of us may still prefer to eat in, thanks in part to John Ota.
John is an Ontario architectural writer and former chair of the OAA Honours and Awards Committee. He is someone I have worked (and dined) with in the past. So I wasn’t shy about asking him tricky questions.
Q: On the importance of the kitchen in COVID and post-COVID homes:
Because we are in a period of enforced isolation, the domestic kitchen has taken on particular importance: we’re stuck at home 24/7; we can’t eat out comfortably; we can’t go out for entertainment. Thank God for kitchens. Do you think that our current situation will change them forever?
A: Thank God for kitchens! I think we're in for a long period of time when people stay at home and cook and entertain at home – at least until 2022 and maybe longer. It will be hard to go to a restaurant and completely let loose and enjoy yourself. People will be paranoid about being infected – plexiglass everywhere, servers wearing facemasks, constant wipe-down of surfaces – and oh, if anyone has a coughing or sneezing fit – YIKES! It will be much more relaxing and enjoyable to eat at home or on the patio of a friend’s home who assures you everything is clean, ventilated and safe. The kitchen will become an even more central place in the home.
Cooking at home has become big. We’ve seen how yeast, flour for bread, sugar for baking are in great demand. The manager of our supermarket passed two envelopes of yeast out of his breast pocket to my wife like it was some kind of illicit drug. “You can only have two,” he whispered. The stove or oven has never been on so much in my house.
Days of strictly working at the office are over. People working at home will be in the kitchen during the day like never before. For a coffee break, you have to go to the kitchen to make coffee and a peanut butter sandwich. There’s no going to the local Starbucks anymore.
Elvis Presley’s kitchen at Graceland, Memphis TN.
Photo: John Ota
Instagram has turned into a home cooking art gallery. Baking, frying, roasting – everyone is showing off their awesome culinary skills – who would’ve known everybody could cook like this? Cooking is a great stress reducer. It’s a source of pleasure. Slowing down, chopping, kneading – calming, engaging activities – and it’s creative!
Q: On sensory experience in architecture, especially now that we’re stuck at home:
The non-visual qualities of our designed spaces – feel, smell, sound, and even taste – are too often overlooked. Absurdly, this is even true in modern kitchens (which you wisely criticize). In the early chapters, you mention the heavy lifting, the smoke-choking, the intense heat, the aromatics and finally the flavours of primitive kitchens. Remembering that humans cooked this way – on open fires in confined spaces – for many thousands of years, and in some places still do, do you think that those valuable experiences, or some of them, should be regained?
A: In the book, I try to help people to remember that we should try and appreciate what we have now. It’s not easy if you have a demanding job and the kids are crying. I am very sympathetic to that. So I am not advocating going out in winter and chopping ice to melt for water or cooking over an open fire. But there are some simple basic pleasures we can enjoy about cooking. I like cooking to be fun. I drink wine or beer while I am cooking. I like the music up. If I am by myself with nobody looking, I even dance by myself (I know someone who dances with their refrigerator door – you have to dance with someone!). For me, there is nothing more pleasurable than the aroma of smoked bacon wafting through the house on a Sunday morning, or listening to the sizzle of fried rice crisping in an iron skillet, or hearing the gentle thud of a pancake hitting the frying pan. Smell is connected to the pleasure centre of the brain. No wonder a real estate agent trick is to bake chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen and let the aroma fill house before potential buyers arrive.
There are many aspects to the experience of cooking, including, planning the meal, browsing the cookbooks, doing the shopping for great ingredients. And then there is just slowing down to do the chopping and the cooking and the tasting. Our lives are so go go go, It would be nice to try and enjoy all aspects of cooking. When you think about it, we have it pretty good. We have a lot of gadgets and technological conveniences that make life pretty easy. We don’t have to go out and shoot a duck – we just go to Longos and buy a perfect duck breast – sometimes already marinated in an orange and herb sauce. All we have to do is sear that breast in a pan, and then pop it into the coven to roast. Soon the house is filled with roast duck aromas. You cannot buy that pleasure.
Q: On nostalgia and other kinds of memory:
A lot of your comments refer back to your mother’s kitchen and your fond memories of it. How important is nostalgia in architectural design? I’m not thinking just about kitchens – I’m also thinking about your work in heritage architecture – but kitchens seem to epitomize this. I’m also thinking of Gaston Bachelard’s The Poetics of Space where he says that we tend to seek out dwellings – as a species and as individuals – that remind us of our earliest environments. He writes “... the house we were born in has engraved within us the hierarchy of the various functions of inhabiting.”
A: I think memories and nostalgia are important not just to architecture but to just being a happy human being. In architecture, historical buildings trigger memories about people, building materials and events and they tell us who we are, where we came from and what we should be doing. It is the same for cooking and food. I admit that for a long time I was a guy that did not listen to my memories. But I took some acting classes and we did some exercises to connect with our memories and experiences. Now, I’m much more in contact with my past and memories.
Pilgrim kitchen, Plymouth Plantation, MA
Photo: John Ota
I have taken to cooking a lot of my mother’s recipes including her Japanese dishes and her special brown noodle chow mein. Now when I make it, all of a sudden, I feel like she is right there next to me asking me to break up the crunchy noodles before putting them in the pan. I am right back with my mom in my childhood kitchen. I know she’s dead – but somehow in my mind she’s there. The smells, sounds, aromas, the feel of the noodles in my hands are back. I think if we block out those memories we are not complete as people. Memories of cooking can trigger some of these happy memories through smells, sounds, practices, reading recipes. Cooking, family, old forgotten friends, music, even dancing – it can all come out in the kitchen. But if every day you just open a can and microwave some beans you miss that experience.
Q: On immigrant and ethnic experience:
We’re almost all immigrants or descendants of immigrants. The kitchens in the book are all North American kitchens. So when you speak about typical modern cuisine being blander than older cuisines, you are maybe talking about Canada and the US only, where mass production has messed with a lot of things: food is blander, flowers don’t smell anymore, and spaces in general are not designed with the full range of senses in mind. Can you compare the North American kitchen and cooking with the “ethnic” experience? I note that New Orleans is not at all typical of North American cities, and that Louis Armstrong’s tastes, in sharp contrast with Elvis Presley’s tastes, are not the least bit white-bread.
A: I have noticed that recent immigrants are less likely to serve processed foods in favour of making their own. The kitchens are the same – they just cook in them differently. Recently, Karon Liu, the outstanding food writer for The Star told me that Chinese people live in a multi-generational houses, so that in his house, the grandmother does the cooking and the mother works. Cooking secrets and recipes are handed down through the generations. So when Karon is making steamed black cod with the Chinese hot oil sauce, he is cutting the green onions on the bias like he is taught and the sauce is not out of a bottle – it is scratch. I have friends from India and they also cook from scratch. The curry spices are not bought off the shelf – they’re ground down whole with a mortar and pestle. The chapattis don’t come in a bag. They’re rolled out from scratch flour and then laid on the stove burner until they fluff up like pillows and then they’re taken off the stove. It’s just the way it’s always been done
And in Japan the kitchen is small. There is a two-burner hot plate and no oven – maybe a small toaster oven to grill fish. Go to an Omori or Muji store and everything is small. In England, they rarely renovate kitchens or change appliances. It’s we North Americans who want the big modern uber kitchens.
Q: On architecture and food:
Although most architects don’t write about food, they seem to get off on it. Why is that?
A: Art, architecture, films, travel – architects love the human experience and I know architects who are fabulous cooks! The late Ted Teshima loved to cook. My friend Garth Norbraten has fabulous dinner parties and food. When the time comes to cook – look out! They can cook with the best of them. I am sure an architect cookbook would do very well.
But architects are very busy people, running a business and dedicated to their craft. Often, there is not time to cook and it’s not a priority when you have 20 jobs on the go and your client is asking you to finish the overdue bathroom specs. I am very sympathetic. Sometimes it’s a miracle that things get built. But architects love to eat fabulous food and keep up with the latest culinary trends. Oh, also, I heard architects like to drink. Do you think that’s true?