K is for Kitchen Table

In “Pipa’s Story,” author Samantha Chang tells of a poor servant girl who must find the heart of her master’s house. At Pipa’s own home, the stove occupies this center.

My home’s center is the kitchen table. The other living spaces—kitchen, family room, patio, foyer, office, bedrooms—extend out like spokes from this place. In spite of the living room couches, a somewhat organized desk, a bed piled with pillows, and a koi pond outside, all activities still revolve around the kitchen table.

However, the kitchen table claims centerstage because of food, not location. Cold cereal breakfasts, grilled cheeses for lunch, holiday dinners, late-night snacks, weekend pancakes, afternoon tea, birthday cakes. . . Meals are the everyday occasions when families and friends put separate pursuits on pause and connect with each other. The kitchen table is the place for these connections.

In contrast to dining room tables, kitchen tables are neither fancy nor precious. Enduring spills and messes, they don’t require fine china. My kitchen table is over 40 years old. It’s not vintage, and calling it retro would be a stretch. The brown formica top sports a faux wood pattern, and the metal legs can fold flat. But my parents bought this kitchen table when they first married, and now this kitchen table sits in my first home.

The table may not look like heirloom material. But this simple piece of furniture has seen my family share food and connections for nearly half a century.