The kitchen sink at Purple Shamrock Farm is shown.
Submitted photo
Strothmann
As every kitchen does, my kitchen houses a typical, two-basin, stainless steel sink.
There’s nothing really fancy about it. The faucet was replaced a few months back when the original knob-on-the-stick started leaking quite a bit of water when it was off and now features a detachable sprayer nozzle that works quite well when needing to give the sink a final rinse after washing dishes.
All the Better Homes and Gardens magazines love to feature the “farm sink,” which makes people feel like they’re connected to the land somehow through beautiful white porcelain sinks and deep sink wells. Perfect granite countertops surround the basins, and a perfectly folded dish towel stands at the ready nearby, ready to catch any drop of water that may fall out of place.
In this episode of Real Farming, I’m here to say I’d love to have a farm sink like that, but mine just doesn’t hold up to those standards.
As I’m sure most farmers and their families have attested through the years, a true farm sink has washed everything from dishes after a home-cooked meal to greasy hands, tools, vegetables, eggs, meat and even, hear me out, the occasional animal that needed some washing off. In a perfect situation, there would be a utility sink, but when you need to make do with what you have, you get creative.
Anyone who has ever visited the homestead has heard me say more often than once that we go through a lot of hand soap, and that is so true. One doesn’t raise poultry without good knowledge of proper hand hygiene. My towels that flank the outsides of the sink aren’t perfectly folded, but they are clean and at the ready to mop up or dry off whatever may be needed.
Since moving out of apartments years ago, I have not owned a dishwasher. Instead, after every meal, I take delight in washing the dishes by hand, always sanitizing the basin before I begin.
When I was younger, my Grandma Mack used to laugh that I enjoyed that chore so much. I couldn’t wait to get my hands in the sudsy water and scrub until the plates were shiny and clean. Back then, pre-antibacterial days, the dishes were towel dried, too, so that added another element to the “fun.”
Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate a good staged photo of the “farm kitchen” with its perfect sink in magazines. However, I (and others) know the real job of the farm sink and that’s to wash off the grime of one job and prepare for the next one. Now, how am I holding up on my supply of hand soap?
Until next time…