Breakfast-room dinner

Our apartment is old-fashioned, with a kitchen that’s not eat-in but only for cooking, a too-big dining room, a butler’s pantry (where a butler is supposed to be plating our food), and a cozier ‘breakfast room,’ where we end up eating most of our meals.

Dinnertime in the breakfast room, © 2013 Celia Her City

The table in the breakfast room is beat-up and small.  Its surface is chipped, and its chairs bear the chew marks from when our late dog Barkley, a Chesapeake Retriever, was a puppy.  When it’s set for four, the place-mats touch.  For all these reasons, it’s the place we prefer to dine in with our friends.