Every time I dream, I dream in green; I dream in avocado.
There’s truth to that, too: Back in the ’70s, my mother went on into a mid-life frenzy and decided that the kitchen — long the harmonious center between my mother’s and my father’s tastes — had to be modern and chic. We had a lot of colors to choose from back then, and none of them would be considered “conservative” by any means: Harvest Gold, Poppy Red, Earth Brown, and my mother’s favorite choice, Avocado Green.
We were of course in competition with all of our other suburban neighbors: The Wallace’s had red, the Schmidt’s had brown, and the Goldsmith’s had that strange orange color that simply isn’t found in nature.
But us? We had the avocado green kitchen market cornered, and my mother knew it.
Grudgingly, my father obliged, and soon we were awash in color palettes more fitting a bowl of guacamole than a range oven. That said, there is a charm that came with that green: My 9th birthday party was held there, and wedged between the layers of Formica green counter tops and terrazzo flooring and composite wood cabinetry lay some of my warmest memories.
Mom decided to fight the tide of the ’80s abstract architecture and the ’90s white oak craze and kept that kitchen as it stood in 1973. When she finally sold the home last year, the buyers were most taken with the kitchen.