Elizabeth David and the origins of the Unfitted Kitchen (Pt 2)

My aunt Elizabeth David hatched a radical plan to escape her old kitchen, at least for part of the year. The opportunity to rethink everything came suddenly, more of less out of the blue.

After refusing to have her kitchen photographed for inclusion in Terence Conran’s first kitchen book (The Kitchen Book, 1977), Elizabeth turned to writing and her imagination. Her article ‘My Dream Kitchen’ is one of the chapters in the book, written as a personal favour for Conran. She summed up this pleasurable exercise of imagination with an image of the kitchen as a place of artistic creativity: ‘my dream kitchen would be more like a painter’s studio furnished with cooking equipment than anything conventionally accepted as a kitchen’.

Elizabeth David’s ‘Dream Kitchen’ in 1977, designed by me

In the real world my aunt’s kitchen at the back of a tall narrow house was too damp and dark for her – presumably why she didn’t want it photographed - though the appearance and arrangement of the furniture was satisfactory. So when a tenant in the basement moved out, she and I hatched a plan to create a brand new kitchen there, based on the dream and our many conservations. It was to be called her winter kitchen. The space spanned two rooms that were opened up together with new furniture and lighting. This was to be a change of scene that did not involve the abandonment of her original kitchen all year long. It seemed appropriate for her to have two kitchens. I’ve written about it in my own book The Art of Kitchen Design, 1995.

The new winter Kitchen, inspired by her Dream kitchen built in 1979, showing her working table.

I began to interpret her dream kitchen vision into practical ideas. The resulting principle of using freestanding furniture as the key way of planning the kitchen ultimately became the philosophy of my own Unfitted Kitchen concept. An effect of using furniture was a sense of space in the room, since its corners were kept free. The architectural features are left visible to be enjoyed, including pipes, alcoves and the old fireplace surround. I used warm woods, beech and olive ash woods, not pine, to recreate her style along with using the same colour on the wall. This was Purple Sky Light, courtesy of Sanderson Paints.

This kitchen was where I used inlay for the first time Here we had thin strips of black and red acrylic along with matching doorknobs in a nod to the nineteen-thirties, as she had asked me for a modern look without being overly modernist. Inlay was a decorative design breakthrough. It is practical, being easy to clean, and provides a distinguished look to an otherwise simple panel.

Banquette and table located in the front basement room, designed for writing, eating and conversation.

The winter kitchen was focused around two tables, reflecting the space being originally two rooms. The working table for food preparation, shown above, was the main work surface, whilst the second table in the adjoining front room was accompanied by a long banquette set against the wall so my aunt could see into the room while working or eating. This table was a desk and dining area rather than a kitchen work surface.

In this front room part of the kitchen we did something that seemed a bit radical: installed a carpet. It softened the space and created a different atmosphere, more like a sitting room. In a moment of practical luxury she decided to add a day bed. The oversized canework lounger was brought in on the advice of a good friend who encouraged her to use the new kitchen for mid-afternoon naps. My aunt had become infirm from arthritis in her last years, so climbing three flights of stairs to her bed was too much like hard work.

There were functional elements to make the kitchen fit her specific needs. A plate rack was a firm requirement, with no hiding of plates desired. The plate rack (shown) was my first prototype and am now on my nineteenth version in search of the perfect plate rack iteration. A large Belfast sink was another essential, with a rubber bowl so she could rinse her vegetables and have space for washing up. This needed to be installed at the right height to prevent her, as she firmly said, from being ‘bent double’. She considered wooden draining surfaces kinder than ceramic or stainless-steel alternatives to the objects being washed and dried.

Elizabeth’s perfect configuration for a kitchen store cupboard allowed you to reach the top surface whilst contained lots of drawer space and doors that don’t get in your way.

A star piece of furniture in this new winter kitchen was inspired by a Georgian ex-linen cupboard in my aunt’s main kitchen. At her insistence it had to have sliding doors, so they did not get in the way when being opened. I designed big drawers at the base level for easy access - she was ahead of her time about that. In a tribute to her, we are developing a similar cupboard for our Unfitted Kitchen collection.

While my aunt loved her new kitchen created collaboratively with me, its siting in the basement of her house did prove to be a shortcoming. Nevertheless, she was pleased with its amenities and style and ended up spending a great deal of time in it. Once she came down in the morning, she stayed there most of the day.

There is a legacy. All her furniture has been distributed to her family and is still used and loved. The pieces’ freestanding, unfitted spirit represents the sustainable and historic role of furniture. Long-lived furniture is a special gain for later generations. I am quietly happy to be able to offer some of my aunt’s special insights about how to live to our customers through the Unfitted Kitchen furniture collection.