The kitchens seem to be in near-constant motion, teapots whistling on every stove, and the smell of bread (always bread) lingering in the air. A large blackboard hangs on the far wall with today's meal options written in three different handwritings, all arguing via crossed-out words.
Pots and pans are arranged via hooks on the wall based on size and shape, creating an almost puzzle-esque mosaic in an effort to make them all fit.
Student stations, for those in official culinary clubs or those who just have a passion for it, are pushed haphazardly in one corner, implying that a hard-fought battle was only fractionally won in some year long passed. All are tepidly welcome, so long as they clean up after themselves.