Birth of a Kitchen – in Paris

The Paris Apartment, Part XI

Remember a long, long time ago … one of the Huffingtons mentioned she’d found the perfect apartment in Paris, and she even blogged about it? She called it Heaven in the 7th, and dreamed about spending Christmas there with her family.

That naive but happy Huffington was me. And although the apartment needed a new kitchen, and an extra bathroom, and the bedrooms had to be reconfigured, and all the systems had to be renovated and upgraded, I was assured that it was a quick and easy project and told it would take a “good month,” as in the French, “un bon mois.” It actually went from “un bon mois” to “deux mois” to “quatre mois to “huit mois” to, well, let’s just say I could have birthed this renovation and it would have gone faster!

But never mind. It’s almost done … and we are at the fun part. Now looking back, I’ll share a few stories along the way, to finish the saga of the Paris Apartment.

First off, there was the tough decision about moving the kitchen. The problem was that it was located in the wrong part of the apartment – in the back, miles away from the dining area (as is typical of most Haussmann style apartments). But did it make sense to have a kitchen with a view like this?

When in the front of the building, the view was like this?

Once we made the decision to move it, we realized that the practically brand new kitchen in the apartment could not be reconfigured to work in the new space … a blessing in disguise for me since I really didn’t like the existing kitchen, even if it was brand new. After all, did I really want a kitchen like this?

When I’d been secretly dreaming of something like this?

Luckily, it turns out that we found someone who needed a new kitchen, and our contractor agreed to take it out for free if he could give it to this elderly person – and keep one of the elements for himself. Huge relief!

I wanted a kitchen that was cozy and elegant, and looked as though it had been in the apartment for years. Ironically, I wanted what we Americans call a French style kitchen. But ironically, French style is actually very hard to find in Paris, where tastes run to super modern, high gloss contemporary.

After looking at hundreds of kitchen designs and despairing that none of them had what I wanted, I stumbled upon a small kitchen design store in the northern part of the Marais, and immediately knew I’d found my match.

Luckily for me, the owner was in and I quickly explained what I was looking for. I had a rough idea of the dimensions and so he sat down, with pencil in hand, and literally sketched out a drawing that was completely perfect.

We talked a little more, and decided to expand the kitchen to the whole room, and so he added on another section.

I approved it on the spot, and with a brief discussion of finances and a solid handshake, we agreed to have him build the kitchen.

My contractor prepped the room for the kitchen installation, and for an eternity, I waited patiently while the “kitchen” looked like this:

Meanwhile, the kitchen designer was less than communicative, and many months passed before I heard from him. I persistently phoned or emailed but I kept hearing the same chorus: Soon! It’s almost ready!

And then one day my contractor called and said, “Your kitchen has been delivered!” I was so thrilled at long last that I hopped on the next flight and could barely contain my excitement. But somehow “delivered” hadn’t meant “installed,” and this was what I found when I arrived in Paris that morning!

On my next visit, the kitchen hadn’t improved much more, but at least I could see the color – which, by the way, was not what I’d ordered – but I’ve learned to like it just the same!

The big excitement was when the mirror was delivered, and I proudly posed in front of it:

But when it came to hanging it over the mantel, it didn’t fit! I had carefully measured for the mirror's installation but hadn’t taken the kitchen cabinet molding into consideration, and my gorgeous piece de resistance was just a 1/2 inch too wide on either side. But no worries, I had another mirror that I’d bought for one of the bedrooms, and in a game of musical mirrors, we managed to find just the perfect solution:

The kitchen is now almost finished and I am the happiest camper. We didn’t get in for Christmas … or Valentine’s day … or Easter or Mother’s Day. But as spring turns to summer, and the sun sets at 10:38 p.m. in Paris, I’ll forget about the long months, the delays, the overruns and the costly mistakes and will be drinking up the last rays of sunlight, in my kitchen with a view, ever thankful for a dream come true.

Do you want to see more of the finished apartment?

Stay tuned …

Tata,

AH