If you could have two kitchens, a fully staffed and automatically stocked one with catering standard equipment and a ‘private’ one for when you fancy preparing a meal in bare feet without a professional chef peering over your shoulder, would you?
I ask because I’m becoming increasingly incensed by reports of ‘Two Kitchens Kate’ at 1a Kensington Palace. Apparently the Cambridge’s have put in an all-singing all-dancing kitchen, which presumably palace protocol dictates they have, and which ‘scandalously’ cost £170,000 of taxpayers’ money (don’t get me started: it’s generally agreed the monarchy bring in as much tourist revenue as they cost, an industry which supports one in 12 jobs. And I bet the Cambridge’s are responsible for a large stake in that. Of course the methodology varies, but their wedding was said to boost London’s economy by £107m while the birth of Prince George boosted consumer spending by $383m according to Britain’s Centre for Retail Research) plus a smaller one for ‘Kate’s’ – why oh why does such sexism still wheedle its way into the British media? – own personal use.
I don’t blame her. What if she fancies making Prince George’s tea herself, and actually wants to be the one to scrape the peas off the wall and floor afterwards? Or wants to give him the Kenwood K to lick after making a cake like I did with BB (pictured) without being observed? Or is feeling peckish an hour or so after being served up dinner the chef?
Imagine trying your hand at Annabel Carmel’s weaning recipes for the first time under the watchful eyes of a fully staffed kitchen, or wandering into such a place to try and raid the cupboard mid-Downton.
For a woman constantly in the public eye and under media scrutiny a ‘private’ kitchen sounds like the perfect bolthole. Perhaps – perish the thought – she simply wants to be a wife and mother every now and again. I’m afraid I fail to see the crime in that…