Better Designs

Whipping up Better Designs
Mastering the art of cooking is just one more ingredient in creating useful kitchens

I've been told over the years that you don't need to know how to cook to design a kitchen. Many designers and architects argue that hands-on cooking experience just isn't necessary, as long as they understand the role of each component—cabinets, appliances, countertops—as each relates to the whole kitchen. But when all is said and done, a kitchen is for cooking. We've all heard the excuse that consumers don't cook. But statistics show they're a minority, and even consumers who don't cook frequently will want to make a cup of tea, scramble some eggs, or even cook for 10 to 12 people on occasion. I have to repeat: The end use of a kitchen is cooking. No matter how you "pretty" it, how perfect the focal point is, how beautiful the tile or granite, or how sensational the cabinetry, guess what? Someone is going to cook in that kitchen.

Knowing how to cook will help a designer create a kitchen that works well, and promoting that fact is a terrific marketing tool. We are very conscious that kitchens are used for socializing, doing homework, paying bills and watching TV. But by excluding the core function of the kitchen in favor of satellite activities and current design trends, we set our clients and ourselves up for failure. When the kitchen makes cooking harder than it needs to be, it creates stress for the client and reduces the designer's chances for a positive referral—something that is essential for long-term success.

I am not suggesting that kitchen designers become professional chefs, as I am. It's not necessary. But many, many consumers cook. To satisfy the needs of this market, designers should be able to put a meal on the table for eight to 12 people without using frozen foods or a microwave, but by employing the techniques of sautéing, steaming, baking, grilling, etc. I guarantee that designers with this experience will no longer shortchange counter space or create a distant pantry for all storage. Designers who cook will know viscerally what features make putting a meal on the table easy and enjoyable.

While many designers have dismissed cooking, just as many designers have expressed interest in the cooking process. How can the NKBA satisfy that interest? One way would be to partner with a national cooking school. They could create a simple 12-week course, one night a week for four hours. The NKBA could then certify these designers with a new certification, CCKD (Cook and Certified Kitchen Designer), as an upgrade on their current CKD designation. That would separate them from all of the interior designers and architects who just put the space together without any understanding of how it works. Moreover, the average architect, interior designer and others outside our field would no longer see kitchen designers as cabinet salespeople.

I know creating such a course sounds like a daunting task. But these skills can be taught with surprising ease if we concentrate not on teaching recipes, but on teaching technique. The problem with most cooking classes is they teach a dish or a menu. The student has fun, goes home and cooks a meal for their friends to lavish praise, but then faces the challenge: "What do I do for an encore?"

In the 1970s, while teaching cooking at UCLA, I devised a different way of approaching cooking lessons that could be used by any school as the basis for teaching designers the cooking skills needed to understand how a kitchen functions.

The class was based on participation, not demonstration. It was divided into 10 sessions, three to four hours per session, one evening per week. At the first class, I taught vegetables—how to clean, prep, steam, bake and grill them. At the end of that class, the students could cook a dozen different vegetables in a variety of ways. I did the same thing with eggs, salads, appetizers, soups and sauces. We had classes focusing on fish, beef, pork and poultry. We finished with a dessert class. At the end of 12 weeks, the students could easily make a meal for eight to 10 people and had the knowledge to create a variety of menus for a lifetime of cooking pleasure.

One of the ways designers sell their services is by knowing more than the consumer knows about all the components of a kitchen. That's why we get certified—to prove that our knowledge and experience will ensure the client's needs will be satisfied for the long term. The most important function of a kitchen is cooking, no matter who the kitchen belongs to, and it is common sense that those who sell their knowledge about kitchens should know how to work in the spaces they are building.