The Kitchen Things I Use So Often They Never Really Get Put Away

There are things in my kitchen that technically have a home. They have a cabinet, drawer, shelf, or some other perfectly reasonable place where they’re supposed to live. I know where that place is. I may have even spent time organizing it and feeling quite pleased with myself afterward.

It doesn’t matter. Some kitchen things get used so often that putting them away feels like an unnecessary middle step between using them now and using them again tomorrow. You wash them. You dry them. You set them on the counter. That’s where they stay. I’ve decided this isn’t clutter. It’s efficient. At least that’s what I’m calling it.

The Skillet That Barely Makes It Back to the Cabinet

Every kitchen has one pan that does most of the work. I have other skillets. They’re perfectly good skillets. Some of them probably wonder why I bothered buying them considering how little opportunity they’ve been given to participate.

But there’s always that one. It’s the skillet I grab for eggs in the morning, grilled cheese at lunch, chicken at dinner, and whatever else I’ve decided needs to be cooked in a pan. If I wash it after dinner, there’s a good chance I’ll need it again the next morning. Putting it into the cabinet at that point almost feels silly.

It sits on the stove or drying rack instead. Sometimes I move it because I want the kitchen to look particularly tidy. Then six hours later I’m opening the cabinet to get it back out. Apparently, we both know where this relationship stands.

I have noticed that the most-used kitchen items aren’t necessarily the newest, prettiest, or most expensive ones either. They’re the things that feel right in your hand and do what you need them to do without any fuss.

You know exactly how hot that skillet gets. You know which burner it likes. You know how long something will take in it without setting a timer. That’s not cookware anymore. That’s a coworker.

There Is Always a Cutting Board Out

I could probably put my cutting board away, but why? Something is going to need cutting. An onion. An apple. Chicken. Something. I use a cutting board several times a day, so there’s almost always one leaning against the backsplash or sitting somewhere nearby.

I have different ones for different things, but there’s one particular board I reach for constantly. It’s not the prettiest one I own. It’s not the big wooden board that looks beautiful when you’re putting together a spread for company.

It’s the practical one. That’s usually how this works. The pretty things are waiting patiently for their moment while the slightly battered workhorses are doing all the actual cooking.

The Coffee Things Have Permanent Residency

Coffee is not something I’m going to make difficult for myself. Anything involved in making that first cup needs to be easily accessible. Coffee maker, obviously. Coffee. Mugs. Whatever you’re putting into your coffee. I’m not interested in opening six cabinets before I’ve had caffeine.

There are mugs that technically belong inside the cabinet, but my favorites tend to rotate between my hand, the dishwasher, the drying rack, and my hand again. There are plenty of other mugs available. I don’t want those. I want the one I always use. This makes no sense because a mug is a mug until suddenly it isn’t. You find one that’s the right size, has the right handle, and keeps your coffee warm long enough for you to actually drink it. That’s your mug now. Everyone else in the house should respect the arrangement.

The Wooden Spoon That Has Seen Things

I own plenty of cooking utensils. Spatulas, spoons, whisks, tongs, ladles, and several things that I’m sure had a specific purpose when I bought them. Still, I reach for the same few over and over. There’s usually a wooden spoon somewhere close to the stove because I’m going to need it. It has stirred spaghetti sauce. It has stirred soup. It has mixed casseroles. It has been used to break up ground beef.

It has probably been waved at someone who wandered into the kitchen asking when dinner would be ready. A good wooden spoon becomes part kitchen tool and part extension of your hand. You know which one I’m talking about. It’s probably a little darker than it used to be. It might have a mark or two from getting too close to a hot pan. It doesn’t look anything like the pristine wooden utensils in kitchen catalogs. That’s because those haven’t cooked supper hundreds of times. Mine has.

Salt and Pepper Aren’t Going Anywhere

I once had the idea that counters should be almost completely clear. It’s a lovely idea. I’ve seen those kitchens. There are three carefully selected objects on the counter, usually a beautiful cutting board, a bowl of lemons, and some sort of tasteful ceramic container. Where is everything else? Do these people not own salt? My salt and pepper stay within reach because I use them constantly. The olive oil is usually nearby too.

Garlic may be hanging around. There might be butter involved. These aren’t decorative choices. They’re the things I’m reaching for every time I cook. I could put the olive oil into a cabinet after every use, but I’m going to pull it back out the next time I cook something.

There comes a point when organizing your kitchen around how you actually use it makes more sense than organizing it around how you think a kitchen is supposed to look. If you reach for something three times a day, maybe it belongs where you can reach it.

The Dish Towels Are Everywhere

I don’t know how many dish towels a kitchen needs. More than you think. There’s one hanging from the oven. One near the sink. One I’m actually using. One that has somehow migrated to the other side of the kitchen. One that’s wet enough to need replacing even though I swear I just got it out.

Then there are the good dish towels. Those are different. The good ones are the pretty ones I bought because they matched something or had a cute design on them. Nobody is supposed to use those for anything serious. You may dry clean hands on them. Possibly. Do not wipe spaghetti sauce on them.

Do not grab something greasy. Do not clean up whatever you just spilled. There are towels for that, and they are considerably less attractive. The hardworking towels get washed so often they barely make it from the laundry basket back to the kitchen before they’re needed again.

The Mixing Bowl That Does Everything

I have sets of mixing bowls. Different sizes. Different materials. Bowls for every possible kitchen situation. And yet there is one bowl I use more than all the others. It’s big enough for most things without being so big that washing it becomes an event.

I use it for mixing. Tossing. Marinating. Holding chopped vegetables. Making salads. Occasionally storing something in the refrigerator when I can’t be bothered transferring it into another container.

It gets washed constantly. If it’s sitting in the drying rack, I know exactly where to find it. Putting it away almost makes finding it harder. That’s another thing I’ve learned about kitchens. Sometimes the most convenient storage location is wherever you last washed the thing.

There’s Usually a Knife by the Cutting Board

Not sitting dangerously on the edge of the counter, before somebody worries. But yes, there is usually a good knife nearby. I have a knife block. I have several knives. I use about three of them.

There’s the chef’s knife that handles most things, a smaller knife for quick jobs, and a bread knife. The others have very specialized careers that apparently don’t come up often in my kitchen. A good knife is one of those things you don’t appreciate until you use a bad one.

Try cutting a tomato with a dull knife and suddenly you’re willing to reevaluate your entire kitchen. The knives I use constantly get washed, dried, and put somewhere safe, but they don’t stay there long. There’s always another onion waiting.

The Air Fryer Earned Its Counter Space

Counter space is valuable. I don’t give it away lightly. If an appliance is sitting on my counter, it needs to justify the amount of real estate it’s occupying. This is why I’m suspicious of small appliances that claim they’ll change my life.

Will you? Or will you make waffles twice and then spend four years taking up space in a cabinet? The air fryer, however, earns its keep. It gets used. Reheating leftovers alone makes it useful. Pizza comes back to life in an air fryer in a way the microwave simply cannot accomplish. French fries get crispy again. Chicken heats without turning into something sad and rubbery.

Then there are all the things you can actually cook in it. If I’m using an appliance several times a week, I’m not dragging it in and out of a cabinet every time. It lives there now. Welcome to the family.

My Kitchen Isn’t a Showroom

I think that’s what I’ve finally accepted. A kitchen can be beautiful and still look like people actually use it. There can be a skillet drying by the stove. A cutting board can lean against the backsplash. The coffee maker can stay out.

There can be a bowl of fruit that contains whatever fruit we actually eat instead of six perfectly arranged lemons selected for their decorative qualities. I love an organized kitchen. I want to know where things are, and I don’t want every cabinet to attack me when I open the door.

But organization should make it easier to live in your house. It shouldn’t make you work harder to maintain the appearance that nobody lives there. If I use something once every three months, it can go into a cabinet. If I use it every morning, it needs to be easy to reach.

If I use it morning, noon, and night, apparently it doesn’t get put away at all. There are probably things sitting on your kitchen counter right now that have perfectly good homes somewhere else. You keep meaning to put them away. Then you need them again.

So you wash them, set them down, and tell yourself you’ll put them away later. Don’t worry about it. They’re not homeless. They just moved.