I'll play. I hope I understand what you mean...

First of all I think my kitchen reflects that caring for family/the desire to share time with family is at the center of my 'essence.' I have to say that my kitchen looks nothing like my grandma's kitchen, but I still feel like my memories of it are very much mixed in and played a strong role in how it was designed. Plus, it serves the same purposes, like making warm meals and keeping the baked goods in adequate supply. I feel like it's a kitchen she'd love if she'd gotten to see it.

My backsplashes that I insisted on putting together by hand from various one-color sheets of tiles is my need to be artistic and unique, and my need to change things up a bit... my impatience with too much sameness.

My burgundy wall is my need for color, and the surprise strength and pizazz found inside a quiet and sometimes underestimated personality.

The quiet, more "expected" majority of the kitchen:

The burgundy section that people like, but most really don't 'get':

This is fun and I hope it's what you were looking for. I'm looking forward to others' descriptions and pics.. What about you Aliris?

Yes, yes Rhome -- that is just what I mean.

What is it that people don't "get" about the burgundy part?

I think your organization comes out in the color-encoded functionally distinct sections too. I'm guessing that is -- hope that's not over-stepping! But I can't imagine how one with 10 kids and time to burn helping strangers plan their kitchen could be anything less than uber-organized. And stubborn with your organization-certainty as reflected int he corner drinks cab.

I might have to wait to do mine, rhome. I'm really wasting time here this am... But ... as a broad word-picture, -- and maybe this is getting at a recent post at how one's inspiration might have informed the reality in the end -- I have two images of Kitchen, at least kitchen-I-wish-I-had-gorwn-up-in. I love Acadian fiddling and dance; "NE-style" contra/english music and Appalachian old-time. And Scandinavian turning-dances. My idea of heaven-on-earth would be to while away a night dancing in spinning circles around a wood stove -- to someone else's fiddling ;). right there of course, snuggled in.

There is still a big central "Racetrack" in my kitchen - were the kids younger they'd stil be running round and round it. Actually, the younger twirls round and round it now in pointe shoes -- most annoying in fact! (from a point of pride within - no pun intended, that is).

So I guess the big central island is meant as a circling-together device in some sense. I guess if I'd thought about it consciously, it should have been smaller for that, really.

But the other competing ideal of Kitchen is just a big old barn converted into living space, with kitchen slapped into a corner and long bench. Plenty of room for the rocking chair in that scenario. This current kitchen might just be too tall for a rocking chair ... which is a shame! I seem to be talking myself out of liking my kitchen! But I don't not-like it; reality is just not idealism.

So what is the reality; that was the original question? I guess the way my kitchen reflects my true reality (as opposed to ideal or idealized one) is that there's tons of counter space and open storage for stuff to come and go, on the fly, always. That's good, that's practical, that's right, that's me. I am not organized, sort-of. That is others think I am until they catch sight of the chaos. But of courseI know, more or less sort-of, where every screw is within that chaos. Or rather, when I don't I'm existentially miserable.

So the wide-open pantry is reflective of an inability to keep things organized, or at least stored. And all the counter space is reflective of the inner need to have plastic bags out and drying, somewhere. I abhore plastic, which seems to be why I am tied, forever, to keeping the stuff clean and dry. Ridiculous. But at least this kitchen facilitates this neurosis. For better or worse.

Several things come to mind. I used as much salvage as I could find in my kitchen remodel. This reflects my desire to surround myself with memories that are intrinsic to the old pieces. I hope that makes sense :) When I walk through my 120 yr old home I can sense the ones that walked here before. I wanted to honor those memories and also add to them with mine and the "found" items that I was able to bring in.

I also wanted to be able to cook the way I wanted and didn't take into consideration how appliance color or finish or style would play into it all. That was not even on my radar, so to speak. All I cared about was function. As it happens it all goes together but it wouldn't have mattered if it did or not.

One other aspect was my newly found artistic bent . Never felt like I was artistic and hadn't played with artistic ideas till this home remodel. I went all out with art in the kitchen. That is why I wanted the color palette I chose and also why I didn't want a backsplash, other than paint. I had a deep desire to have my walls be the showcase for my art collection.

There is a lot more but that is enough for now I guess. Here are some pics to illustrate.

The work zone....function was the #1 priority and it has met and exceeded my desires:

art on the wall instead of backsplash and salvaged soapstone counter...my art is the bread:

salvaged soapstone sink and teak countertop...an expression of my love for all things wood :

artistic results from having perfectly functioning appliances ..I believe it frees one to do more when there is ease of expression :

I'm not sure I understand the question completely, but I'll give it a go. My kitchen is meant to be like a Duesenberg. First designed the most functional chassis and best drive train I could fit, then made a beautiful body for it. All the best materials and craftsmen I could find, since I wanted it to last forever. In the end, a piece of functional art.

I didn't start out to have the kitchen be an arts project, but I couldn't help it. There's so much opportunity for self expression there. I fell in love with the Architerra-NW Brocade line of tiles and rather than wanting one, I wanted them all. They looked so beautiful with my yellow natural bamboo doors that I focused on the yellow-greens. There were lily pads and frogs and in my mind they became a pond, and the backsplash became the sky. For a bit of kitsch, I put the sun under the hood. Every kitchen needs a bit of kitsch is my rule. :)

I also knew that the Spectra Decor

So my kitchen is underlyingly, massively functional for feeding mobs, but over all is color, pattern and story, for feeding my soul.

So .... underlyingly you're about service but on the top your own soul gets fed by the beauty?

Seems kinda like what I see by your very presence on this forum... check. [eek - hope I'm not overstepping again?! Please don't be offended, anyone, if any of this is wrong. This is definitely playing with facile-fire].

My current kitchen design was almost entirely driven by esthetics. It takes up a corner of my living room, which was originally probably the "best" bedroom of the house and I didn't want it to look like a kitchen.

However it has to function fully, so it has everything it needs + a washer and dryer. The part about it that is not so functional for me, but not a problem for the primary cook, is that I can't reach things in the highly vertical storage without a step stool.

In the next house there is a dedicated "kitchen" and it is a 125 year newer house, so the kitchen will be a definite kitchen and discreetness and esthetics will be secondary.

This reflects my personality. I care about how I look, but I am not particularly vain, so I wear a certain type of clothes and shoes that form a "uniform" of sorts that hardly varies. On the one hand my "play clothes" may include a $30 work jacket from Dickies, but a topcoat or something like that would likely be from Brooks and cost $1000 because thats what a coat costs there. But I have dress shoes that are 20+ years old. My father has cordovan shoes that probably cost 10x what a typical pair of shoes cost in 1970 and he still has them, and they still say "men's shoes". I wear a winter coat of his that is as old as I am, when I go home. That is how I designed my kitchens, and probably will my future kitchen, and that is how I tend to approach design in general.

In college I wore my grandmother's tan cashmere shawl collared coat. It felt so wonderful, but the gorgeous lining! And the tag, which said "cashmere" in gushy swirly letters.

I think we choose homes that reflect who we would like to be. I am not sure if that is our essence or not.

My first home, bought while we were engaged and childless, had 10 bedrooms, was formal and, upon reflection, I think was chosen to say "we've arrived" or even just "I am a grown up".

My new home I hope says, 'come on in for a cup of tea and some palmiers on my mismatched china and we'll share funny stories about far flung travels and the book we're reading".

Mine isn't done, but I have a few thoughts.

I want our kitchen to be a supportive backdrop for our lives. I hope it has beauty to inspire us, but mainly I want to minimize the times it distracts us from whatever thoughts we are trying to articulate or flavors we are trying to combine or music we are trying to drift in-- and to maximize the possibilities and support it offers for experiments in cooking and science and art.

Now that I look at it, I don't think the previous paragraph really answers your question at all-- but I got carried away trying to catch those ideas, so I am going to leave it in. Here is another try.

I made kitchen decisions for beauty, durability, practicality, saving resources, maximization of child safety and pleasure, and minimizing our exposure to certain chemicals.

Beauty: Our kitchen has several things I find so beautiful-- white Shaker cabinets, the cherry wood bowls and floor, a minor unifying theme of stainless steel in the sink, kettle, and cabinet fittings, and the gorgeous black Pennsylvania granite. The more open design and the warm LED lighting let me enjoy the beauty. Beauty by omission as well as commission-- we no longer have to look at the trashcan; we no longer have to smell the cooking and burning fumes from the stovetop.

Durability: the dark granite, stainless sink and cabinet fittings, the expensive drawer slides, solid plywood cabinets, and the faucet with all metal innards.

Practicality: undermount nature of the sink; additional workspace now available; GW-inspired use of zones as possible in a very small kitchen; more efficient use of drawers with good organizers; good quality cabinet liners for cleaning when necessary; comfy mat at sink for DH's back.

Save money: the appliances were reused, the faucet is unfashionable, and we did not run gas to the house.

Minimize use of energy: the LED can lights, ceiling fan, appliance re-use, greater ease of recycling and composting systems.

Child-friendly and child safe: Organizational design keeps breakable and dangerous items above counter level; soft-close drawers; rounded gentle corners on countertop; lock on the liquor cabinet; wide expanse of single peninsula counter for projects.

Minimize chemical exposure: low formaldehyde plywood cabs, low or no-VOC paint, wood floors.

I don't know if that really answered your question either, but I enjoyed figuring it out as I wrote it!

I can't imagine how one with 10 kids and time to burn helping strangers plan their kitchen could be anything less than uber-organized. And stubborn with your organization-certainty as reflected int he corner drinks cab.

I swore I wouldn't overthink and add to this, but since you brought up how I must be so organized, Aliris, I have to laugh and then respond. You're assuming that I get my house and kids all in perfect order, and THEN sit down to play with kitchens. -Nope. ;)

At the risk of ruining my reputation with you, I guess need to show you a photo of how that corner cabinet often looks when it's not putting on it's best face for a photo! I get in an occasional industrious mood and re-organize, and I like seeing things all neat and tidy. But they don't stay. I actually can't afford to be "uber-organized," as I'd lose my mind trying to get 9 other people to toe the line and keep things 'perfect.' I just can't burn my brain that way...It's not worth it. I don't let them trash things, but I won't be the neatness Gestapo either.

Part of my essence shown in my kitchen is a casual, barefoot type of approach, and easy care. It seems I share similarity with Pal, in that I care about how I look, but I'm not going to get crazy about it, and being kind of classic style, my overall look doesn't change a lot even though I might like to change up some accessories once in awhile and wear funky earrings. I am not a disciplined cleaner or organizer, and having a large family doesn't automatically make me so, darn it. :-) I do enjoy the organization of my kitchen, because it is a tool to help me more easily accomplish that at which I have no particular skill or motivation.

What is it that people don't "get" about the burgundy part?

What people don't 'get' about it is why it's there... Why just a wall of burgundy in an otherwise light, fir kitchen? It's like the wall quilt I made that's all subdued shades of blues, grays, and black, then has some red in an unexpected, but balanced location. It's the way I do things...Controlled wildness? I especially got lots of strange looks when I was sharing my plans with friends/family, or shopping for kitchen materials. No one in the kitchen materials industry seemed to want to support a room with 4 cabinet finishes, 3 backsplashes, and 3 countertops, even when they saw the renderings. lol

Reading Caroline's response made me think of something else. As a person interested in architecture and the character/dignity of a home, I think it's important to also respect and maintain the essence of the house itself in the kitchen... In continuity with the period, style, personality, etc. So I do believe I could live in a kitchen that didn't wholly reflect 'me,' if it suited the house in a fantastic way like many kitchens I've seen posted here.

I'm not sure about my kitchen representing my 'essence', but my focus was beauty. Yes, it had to be functional and appropriate for a young family, but above all I wanted beauty. I've come to a point where I think "it" (whatever "it" is to you) is all about beauty.

I wanted to bring some of the beauty of wood and plants into my kitchen renovation, hence my beautiful walnut cabinets in the kitchen and the living wall in my dining room. Of all the elements in my kitchen, I still love the walnut the best.

It was also important that the kitchen spoke somehow to the rest of the house and the home's history. The walnut suited the mid-century feel left in the house after a major renovation in 1969 or 1970 (although the house was actually built in 1877).

So beauty that acknowledges history, style and convenience - that is what I was looking for I guess. Not so much 'my essence', but there you go!

Great looking bread trailrunner! If only I could eat gluten!

I just want to say, I'd like to have tea and palmiers on mismatched china, in Mntrdredux's kitchen :)

I wanted my kitchen to be all about comfort.
I wanted to be happy while cooking in it.
I wanted my family to have room to cook with me or hang out discussing our days while I cook.
I wanted it to be more organized than our old small one.
I wanted guests to feel instantly welcomed and to not be intimidated by it.
I wanted it to be pretty. I had spent my entire life living in someone else' vision and with their kitchen choices and it was time to have a kitchen that reflected what I wanted.

I guess if it reveals my essence, it is that I am getting older and more mature and did not want a kitchen to impress the Jones' but want to be my own person and the kitchen reflects that. It says that our kitchen is about who we love and who we are. It had to fit us all and feel like a comfy pair of jeans. I am no longer worrying about what others think of me (or it) except in that I want to welcome people in. If they get it, that is wonderful. If not, then it is not their house, so that is not my concern. My choosing functional, affordable and pretty materials shows I have moved on from wanting fancy or "bling". I chose ease of use over everything. Our fridge and freezer set holds enough food to have something to feed my family with on the days I work late or activities prevent me from cooking early. I chose a vintage workhorse of a stove. I want reliable in my kitchen, and from others. I wanted room to create and not resent anyone for stepping into the kitchen/my spaces. I wanted tall ceilings and a lot of natural light and that keeps it looking cheerful. I want my environment and life to work smoothly.

Hey, Lavender Lass, that's nice!

I'd just like to say, I'd like to know what a palmier is! I am certain it would be better with a lavender lass behind it though. ;)

Aliris- Palmiers are wonderful...I haven't had one in years, since the bakery that used to make them closed down. Very yummy :)
{{!gwi}}From Lavender Lass farmhouse pictures

And, there's something so fun about a couple of mismatched teacups... {{!gwi}}From Lavender Lass farmhouse pictures

Well, my redone kitchen better represents me than the kitchen which came with this house, but No, I cannot say it represents my "essence." Plus I find that's a constantly shifting line. As I age and as my life's circumstances change I find so have I. In a huge way. Seven years ago if I'd been asked to name my dream car it would be w-i-l-d-l-y different than my answer today, today as the 40 year-old mother of two young children. Today my answer is a minivan and guess what? That's what I drive! Woohoo for me!

We moved into this house with a baby and a toddler and tout de suite set about remodeling the kitchen (most of the house). It was not something over which I'd ruminated, dreamt for years, and I kinda regret that. I know that today, nearly five years of living in this house as a growing family, I would do it all so much differently. Now I have a better idea the rhythm of our family and what it means, plus, of course, having spent the past four+ years visiting GW has definitely made me think more about my "kitchen essence!"

To get to my essence we would've had to build from scratch, and I psychically could not have done that then. We made the best choice for our family at the time: we were moving from an area with horrible schools (San Francisco, CA) so schools were first, second and third on our list. With little children we also wanted to be in a young family filled and friendly neighborhood, and we have that in droves. We are so lucky in that regard! The house is fine -- my dream, my essence? Nope. Not even close. But we have a beautiful, easy walk to my eldest's school (which is fantastic) with our neighbors, and our school district provides a wonderful education and superlative therapeutic services to my youngest (who is severely impacted with Penelope Syndrome). Next door to us is one of my eldest's best friends, and three houses down is another of his friends. We got what we wanted.

We absolutely settled, compromised on the house, and it was worth it. My partner and I do occasionally talk about the "what ifs": what if we'd somehow known then what we know now, what we would have, could have done differently. But we wouldn't have the joy of walking to school and living amongst these other families. We picked and we chose, and we can live with that. Just like I can happily, easily live with the kitchen we redid. It works, and it works pretty well.

Wow, rm - thanks for the reality check. Life is complicated, and our living spaces are one tiny element of them. Perhaps a bit of it here or there might reflect something or other, but there's a larger picture at work, often, too.

I'm sorry about the ESES: youch. And I hear ya about walking to school. We opted not to and while I don't like to wallow in regrets, to the extent that I look back I do sometimes wonder about the decision.

Thanks for keeping your head screwed in the right direction and sharing about it.

I think my kitchen really reflects me. I have always believed that it shouldn't cost a lot to get the look you want. There are ways to achieve a look without spending too much.

People cannot believe my kitchen cost so "little". It was a DIY project so that in of itself is a big reflection of us. We love to do stuff like this. We painted our oak cabinets and added the crown molding and the light rail. I shopped for discounted appliances, the fridge being the biggest score of all--from the scratch and dent store, Sears. It was 1/2 of its retail price, plus, due to additional damage when they delivered it, I ended up with no scratches or dents when the door skins were replaced.

The tile was won in a contest.

The chandies were from ebay, quite a steal.

Found a discounter for the floor online.

So, I guess my essence is "champagne taste on a beer budget".

I have always believed that it shouldn't cost a lot to get the look you want. There are ways to achieve a look without spending too much....It was a DIY project so that in of itself is a big reflection of us.

Amen. DIY skills are such a blessing and sweat equity and wise buying has been the key for us, too. It also means our kitchen isn't finished in 3 1/2 years, but that's OK. My kids wouldn't know how to live in a house where there wasn't a project underway. But we've been in other houses in which I couldn't make the kitchen from scratch and had to make it reflect me in less financially demanding ways...like with a cookie jar, the textiles, or a pot that sits on the stove.