So, I moved to the big beautiful city, with its bright lights and big dreams.

And I got ….

a tiny kitchen.

I’m luckier than most of my friends. I have a full-sized oven and refrigerator. And I have a dishwasher. Not my boyfriend, but an actual dishwasher!

But I’m lacking counter space- here’s my counter-

and the ever elusive storage.

I spend Saturday mornings with my coffee on the couch watching Ree Drummond and Paula Deen and Alex Guarnaschelli churn out mouth-watering meals, scrumptious snacks and tantalizing treats.

A sea of bowls and fresh produce and pans and fancy stand mixers and food processors line their counters and their granite islands.

I wrap my hands around my coffee, look at my kitchen and sigh.

No island. No room for a stand mixer. No room to roll out dough for dozens of cookies. No room to even put a bowl and a cookie sheet side-by-side.

Does this mean that sizzling casseroles of enchiladas, ooey gooey chocolate and caramel birthday cakes and simmering pots of stews filling the house with tantalizing smells will elude me until I can afford that upper west side brownstone or, worse, until I, gulp, succumb to the call of the suburbs where I could get more for my money?

My taste buds will not wait that long!

So, instead, I invite you into my tiny kitchen. It’s cozy. We’ll be fast friends.

S