When I was little my family built a house, and one of the very best features it contained was the pantry. It was capacious and airy, with a countertop to work on, massive drawers which my little brother used to hide in, and best of all, plenty of room for pantry talks. Now, you all probably know that people naturally tend to congregate in the kitchen since it is obviously the best room in the house. But I beg to differ. Pantries trump kitchens.
“But what,” you may ask, “is a pantry talk?”
I will tell you. It is when you have a talk in a pantry. Is your mind blown?
Okay, okay, before I lose you all with my foolishness, let me tell you why pantry talks are so special.
When you are having a deep heart-discussion, there are several elements that always make the words flow better.
- A place to sit where you don’t have to stare at each others’ faces,
- Something to do or look at during the silences,
- And something to eat.
And a pantry supplies all of these points very nicely. In my parents’ old pantry, there were big buckets storing grains which we would pull out and sit on, close to the floor, where words just seemed to come better than in a stiff living room. There was darkness, if you had the light out and were trying not to be found by the crowds in the rest of the house. And there was always something tasty to munch on during the pauses.
Pantry talks became such a thing in that house, in fact, that a friend made a sign to hang on the doorknob. One side said, “Pantry Open”, and the other, “Pantry Talk In Progress”. Very useful stuff.
We eventually moved on from that house to a tiny house with no pantry, and pantry talks became just a sweet memory. But recently my parents moved to their newly remodeled house, which has not one, but TWO PANTRIES! Of course, I had to test them out.
A friend and I were exploring the house, and in the course of things, just ended up in the pantry, our chins nearly bumping our knees as we tucked ourselves onto ice chests and buckets, talking our hearts out. When discovered by the crowds, we piled into the larger pantry, chatting until the air grew stale and our legs needed room to stretch. And I am happy to say that pantry talks still contain their magic.
Don’t believe me? Try it for yourself.
P.S. Do any of you all have fond memories of my parents’ pantry? Please comment and tell me if you do!
A year ago: My Family