MY PERFECT HOUSE would have the kitchen smack in the middle, the most important room in the whole place. Life, after all, revolves around eating, and we measure out our days via breakfast, lunch & dinner. Creating a good meal, whether it is just for yourself or for the entire family, can be a very satisfying adventure. I’m certainly no chef, but at least I’ve learned how to whip up a couple of eggs, bake a loaf of sweet challah, and concoct a killer spaghetti sauce. “Tis an ill cook who cannot lick his own fingers,” wrote Shakespeare in Romeo & Juliet, Act IV. Perhaps that’s where Colonel Sanders got the idea to brand his KFC finger lickin’ good. The primary set of pots in our kitchen was a wedding gift from my wife’s mother fifty-three years ago, still in daily use. Having raised five kids, she knew pots. My vision of a functioning house, then, puts the kitchen at the hub of the wheel, open to the family room, with sufficient space for two people to work without bumping into each other. Keep stirring the sauce, people.