Unsolicited Advice, Kitchen Edition: Spend Time to Save Time

YesterdayI did a lot of work in the kitchen, but before I got started dicing and mixing and stirring and baking, I knew it was worthwhile to prep myself and my kitchen. These practices are part of what it means to think like a professional.

To prep myself, I put on a top with sleeves that would stay pushed up. I wore supportive shoes. I wore an apron, something I started doing years ago, which signals to me that I am working and also gives me a place to wipe my hands. Its biggest benefit, though, is the number of garments it has saved from ruin.


If you wear them, put in your contact lenses before you work in the kitchen. Your eyes will thank you when you start in with…

…the onions you’ll inevitably need to dice. Look, Ma, no tears!

It’s worth taking the time to eat something before you get started. You’ll be a better cook, I promise. Thinking like a professional means it makes sense to begin with a plan. I may end up deviating from it or other needs may prevent my completing it today, but at least I know where I’m headed and I’ll know when I get there. I use my weekly planner for my ideas, reminders, and lists. It becomes a sort of diary of my days. Then I prepped the kitchen. I made sure there was space in the trashcan — nothing more irritating than continuously trying to shove items into an overflowing can. I made sure the decks were clear — no mail or other stuff on the counters.

Start with a clean kitchen. Wash any stray dishes, many or few…

…and if it’s a really big cooking day, clean out the fridge, too. In the foreground are the coming-to-room-temp eggs and cream cheese for a spiced pumpkin cheesecake. In the middleground are some things I cleaned out of the fridge — now I have more dishes to wash — and in the background is the clean crockpot waiting to be put away.

Of course, one’s efforts to clear work surfaces can be thwarted by family members…

…and thwarted again.

Use a container for produce scraps. These are destined for our worm composter. Don’t ask. It’s my husband’s project. He’s terrific because he never asks me to do anything with the worms except save scraps for them.

Then all the cooking happened. I didn’t take photos because I was working alone and far too busy producing the evening meal and a cheesecake and other sundries for Thanksgiving dinner in a few days. But the cooking went smoothly and was a pleasure to accomplish because I took those 15 minutes or so to prep myself and the kitchen and think like a professional.

If you “clean as you go” during waiting times of your cooking session, you won’t have too much  trouble talking yourself into washing up those last few dishes. You will be so awfully, terribly, terrifically happy you did it when you next walk into the kitchen to work. Wash the dishes. Just wash them. Please. You’ll thank me for pushing you to do this. Good girl.

At the end of the day, happiness is tummies filled, a fridge with some food for the coming days, and a clean kitchen.