The Kitchenless Kitchen

The three famished people seen here are about to assuage their appetites in style. Perhaps they're just out of the theatre, having barely made an 8:30 curtain from a cocktail party where drinks seemed more important than cold canapés. Perhaps they had an early and hence light dinner before the show. In any case, they're hungry and have decided to go to the apartment of the lucky owner of a kitchenless kitchen for a midnight feast, some music and a relaxed good time, rather than fight the after-theatre crowds in a noisy restaurant. Now they're putting together a kingly collation in anticipation of later arrivals – who are probably driving round and round the block, looking for a place to park.

Whatever the circumstances, the kitchenless kitchen makes snacking or feasting a cinch and a treat. This handsome hunk of furniture, designed by Playboy, dispenses with a kitchen as such entirely; it renders the proverbial hot stove unnecessary; it has no use for the usual collection of pots, pans, skillets, oven and other customary kitchen gear. A seven-foot-long peninsula in the room, it looks like a walnut storage chest or hi-fi cabinet when closed. Opened, it presents two gleaming formica surfaces. The higher one, at which the girls are sitting on rattan-backed stools, is a dining bar amply large for four and as wide as many a dining table. The lower, working-height surface, at which the host is presiding, sports full-length continuous cove lighting, a continuous electric plug-in strip, Monel sink with built-in garbage disposer, and a drop-down maple cutting board. In storage cupboards beneath are a four-cubic-foot Kelvinator ($219.95) and roll-out shelves on which live the appliances that make the whole thing possible: automatic electric cooking utensils, each with its own heating element and thermostatic control or timer.

Consider the (concluded on page 108) Kitchenless Kitchen (continued from page 54) repast we're looking down on (Page 53). Plugged into the AC strip, nearest the sink, is a Knapp-Monarch ebony-sided high-speed toaster ($18.95). At a flick of the finger it will go into action so the toast will be piping hot when the eggs and link sausages (in Dominion's immersible fry-skillet, $23.95) are ready. Our guy is expertly wielding the spatula over a mixed grill – chops, kidneys, bacon and such–being done to a turn on a capacious Sunbeam griddle ($17.95); the imported Italian espresso machina (from Abercrombie & Fitch, $43.50) – which could just as nicely back a frozen pie.

As for the girls, they've whipped up a salad, set the informal service, put out the relish tray and the wine, and one of them is sampling the bubbling cheese fondue in its copper and brass electrical chafing dish (from VL&A, $60).

Of course, the kitchenless kitchen doesn't store all you need. However, a larder, other appliances, linen, silver – even a freezer – may be accommodated in the usual closets. And the separate kitchen may be consigned to oblivion for good, thus banishing the banishment of the host who would demonstrate his culinary expertise and serve forth a feast – or a snack – for his friends.

Above: closed, the unit shows a clean expanse of matched-grain walnut formica. Pedestal end abuts wall for electric and plumbing connections, houses refrigerator.

Below: stop-action photo shows how lid swings to form dining surface with ample leg room beneath, short panel drops to form cutting-board'

Below: Playboy's fabulous food bar, seen here from its working side, is being used to prepare a sumptuous collation. A brace of Rock Cornish birds is being brought to perfection in a G.E. rotisserie with electric spit and push-button controls ($89.95) and, to its right, tomatoes and peppers are grilling on a Westinghouse immersible griddle ($19.95). Behind it is G.E.'s combination toaster and oven ($31.95); although you can't see them, biscuits are browning in its oven drawer. Right of that is Nesco's deep-fat fryer ($24.95) on which the right temperature for the golden french fries can be set on a dial. Prelude to the meal is a frozen dalquiri spun to perfection in Dormeyer's 3-speed push-button blender ($45) and, at the other end of the dining surface, the java is kept hot in Farberware's 12-cup coffeemaker ($29.95). On the roll-out storage shelves are, top row: Sunbeam saucepan ($17.95) and Westing-house buffet pan ($16.95). Bottom row: Knapp-Monarch grill ($27) and Farberware utility cooker ($23.95).

From the left: Farberware's immersible dutch oven triples as a stew pot, steamer and deep fryer, $27.95. Toastmaster toaster is a lazy man's dream: weight of bread lowers it and starts the toasting by itself, $29.95. Westinghouse stout, spoutless coffeemaker is a cinch to clean, $17.95. Foreground: Knapp-Monarch's automatic waffle iron has removable plates to convert it into a four-sandwich grill, $29.95.

Nesco's rotisserie-oven is big enough to hold a 20-pound roast, $79.95. The pot part of Knapp-Monarch's "Chefster" lifts from automatic electric base, may be used for stewing, steaming—or popping corn, $24.95.

Left: automatic vaccum-method coffee-maker, adjustable for strength of brew, two to 10 cups, by Knapp-Monarch, $29.95. Right: a world-of-the-future English import, the infra-red Magicook broils a steak in one minute, crisp bacon in 20 seconds, calves' liver in 40 seconds. From VL&A, $97.50.