The Kitchen

In the Gem at Little Rest, also known as the Baker Greene Home, the kitchen occupies a place of rare continuity. It is a room where the architecture of the late eighteenth century meets the quiet necessities of modern life, each held in balance with a kind of reverence for the home’s long history. Built in 1788, when the work of the day was measured by hand and hearth, this kitchen remains—still—the beating heart of the house.

Here, the craftsmanship of early New England is present in nearly every surface. The counters, fashioned from wide pumpkin pine boards, carry the warm, mellow glow that only centuries of use can produce. Along the far wall stretches a remarkable artifact: Baker Greene’s own original work top, transformed into the long counter that anchors the room. Its grain, its worn edges, its gentle unevenness have preserved the story of a man whose hands shaped both bread and history in this very space.

The cabinet doors, also crafted from eighteenth-century pumpkin pine, open with the soft creak of age, their iron strap hinges echoing the simplicity and sturdiness of colonial design. These are not merely cupboards; they are remnants of a time when construction meant intention, when wood was chosen not for its perfection but for its lasting character.

Light enters through multipaned windows that have watched the seasons change for more than two hundred years. The black-painted trim, bold and historic, frames each view like a portrait: leaves falling in autumn, snow gathering in winter, the long and welcome light of spring and summer. Under these windows, the counters invite both work and reflection, offering space for preparing a meal or simply pausing to take in the landscape beyond.

At the room’s center stands a broad wooden island, substantial and warm to the touch. It is the gathering point of the modern kitchen, echoing the worktables of the eighteenth century where families convened without ceremony. Above it hangs a colonial-style chandelier, its candle-shaped bulbs casting a familiar, amber glow that softens the room and recalls the rhythm of life before electricity.

And then there is the baker’s nook—an ingenious marriage of past and present. Once part of the original food-preparation area, this recessed alcove now holds the home’s modern oven, cleverly concealed so that its function serves the household while its appearance maintains the integrity of the centuries-old architecture. In this space, the contemporary world steps politely behind the craftsmanship of another era, allowing the kitchen to remain true to its origins.

Knives hang neatly along the wall, cast-iron pans rest from sturdy pegs, and light wavers softly through perforated tin sconces—all elements that speak to an earlier way of living, yet still feel perfectly at home in this restored and working kitchen.

In the Baker Greene Home, the kitchen is more than a place to cook. It is a testament to continuity, a space where the past is not preserved under glass but lived with and built upon. Here, among the broad pine boards and hand-wrought hinges, one senses the enduring truth of early American homes: that life’s simplest acts—preparing food, sharing warmth, gathering with loved ones—are the ones that tie generations together.