The Pantry

 

I love pantries, although I have only lived in two houses with them. They are like a mini-store, but I don't need to go shopping to select the cereal, canned tomatoes or type of pasta that I want. It is already there.

I just have to go to the pantry. 

They also stimulate the decision on what to cook by discovering something behind cans on a shelf.

My first pantry was when I was a bride. We had rented an apartment on the second floor of my grandmother's childhood friend, a spinster hoarder. It had not been updated since pre-WWI. Our stove was like the sketch below.

 

The bathtub had claw feet. But the pantry was wonderful holding not only all our food but our dishes, pots and pans.

Our German Shepherd used the pantry when we forced  pills into her mouth for two weeks. Only later did I discover 14 little white pills in a pile hidden behind the door.

My current pantry is a flat in an ultra-modern house in Switzerland yet still has an old-fashioned feel. 

We happily store our canned and baking goods, mason jars and more. It doesn't have a door but a curtain. However, the door to the alcove where the pantry is located works to hide the pantry from those walking by. 

When one of us asks, "Do we have (fill in the blank) the other will answer, "It's in the pantry." Love it.

Note: visit www.dlnelsonwriter.com