Books: A place to wind down and cook up a little Italian

In this extract from a book about women and their kitchens, broadcaster Kim Hill reveals what's going on behind her fridge.


Kim Hill is understandably a little nervous of exposing her kitchen to the world - last time, when Gary McCormick arrived at her house with a film crew, he opened her fridge door, it came off in his hand and the modest, moulding contents of the fridge were immortalised on film.

The old fridge is gone, replaced with a new large one. There is undoubtedly more on the fridge than in it. The door displays a collection of magnetic fridge poetry - in Italian. Kim's been learning for a couple of years, and has arranged the words alphabetically or in piles of verbs teetering alongside a magnetic Nelson Mandela face.

But while the fridge is under control these days, Kim admits she's a little worried about the wildlife. "I think there is a rat somewhere behind the fridge. But the scary thing is that I put poison on a piece of tinfoil behind it and all that's happened is that the tinfoil's been dragged away and there's no sign of a dead rat."

Home is a comfortable 1904 house, clinging to the side of a hill, with wonderful views over Wellington Harbour. "The kitchen is my little haven after work and piano practice. At five o'clock each night I turn on Checkpoint, pour myself a glass of wine and start cooking. I like the idea that I am doing lots of things at one time but it's relaxing all the same."

There is little evidence in the kitchen, or anywhere else in the tidy house, of the huge amount of reading and preparation for Kim's job. Framed drawings by 9-year-old daughter Hannah decorate the walls and the only clutter is a noticeboard full of invitations, postcards, notes and the like.

Despite being on the celebrity circuit, Kim says life is pretty much the same for her and Hannah as for most other Kiwi families. "I have to cook each night for Hannah. Her favourites are pancakes, or tuna fish, rice and peas." With a sideways glance at Hannah, she smiles and adds, "Half our household is very conservative and won't eat onions or garlic, for instance. That's obviously a bit limiting.

"I don't do 'dinner parties,' I just don't have the time. So I cook only for friends. I couldn't bear to cook for people I don't know. I think eating is a very intimate thing. It would be very unpleasant to eat with people you don't like."

English-born Kim says she is a self-taught cook. "My mother was a very bad cook, really. We used to eat sugar on our salads! But we also had delicious sandwiches made of white bread, butter and sugar - you should try them."

Hannah snuggles up to her mother and puts in a good word for her mother's cooking: "She makes good raisin muffins and good cheese muffins too." She then breaks the news to her mother that despite the fridge contents passing muster this time, all the spices in the jars on the bench have gone hard.

Kim says that despite frequently interviewing people about diet, food fads and health scares, she tries not to act like the food police. "Doing all those interviews we have about food health scares doesn't affect me. You could drive yourself crazy thinking about what you're eating.

"In fact, during the Belgian food scare, I found myself inexorably drawn to the Belgian chocolates in the supermarket. And I don't even like chocolate!"

* From Every Kitchen Tells a Story by Clare De Lore and Julia Brooke-White (Random House $24.95), published this week.