Bruno Tedeschi's personal web site

Only because it had a dishwasher.

At the apartment, dishes would pile up in the sink, and neither one of us had any inclination to clean them. We eventually resorted to paper plates and plastic cups.

Not only would the dishwasher be a labor saver, but a marriage saver, too.

A few months after moving into our new house, though, the novelty of the dishwasher wore off, and the inadequacies of the kitchen emerged.

I began to loathe the floor, made up of 12-inch squares of vinyl faux parquet that previous owners had laid to mask even more hideous 1950s-era linoleum. Cracks in the plaster wall behind the vinyl wallpaper began to show and expanded with time.

Mostly, though, it was the size of our 9-by-12-foot kitchen that became its greatest shortcoming. It had less than six feet of counter space and only four cabinets. Our refrigerator was tucked under the stairs in a narrow passageway between the dining room and the kitchen.

During our first Thanks-giving, trays of stuffing and sweet potatoes were moved from the oven to the floor. The turkey rested on a chair.

Family members were drawn into the kitchen, prompting my wife, Elizabeth, to shout, "Everyone out! Now!"

After that first holiday meal, I began dreaming of a bigger and better kitchen.

My wife, however, dislikes change and, she pointed out, we didnÂ’t have the money anyway.

It wasn’t until these past few years with the run up in real estate values that we had something even better than money: Equity.

My wife’s resistance to expanding the kitchen began to crack about two years ago. In January 2005, after I agreed to allow a stray cat in the house, she gave the project the green light. Only recently did we finish — almost.

Even when all goes relatively well, though, a renovation can take a toll on your wallet, marriage, blood pressure and sanity. This is one New Jersey family’s journey through remodeling hell and back.

After closing on a home equity loan, we sought out an architect. Though I had already drawn up a plan using do-it-yourself software, I knew the project would never get started without the help of a professional.

We picked one that many people in town seemed to be using, David Bailey of Forefront Designs in Westfield.

Bailey said he would be more than happy to turn my plans into real blueprints, for about $4,400. The bad news, though, was that we would need a zoning variance because a portion of the extension was too close to our garage.

Once Bailey completed the design drawings, which are blueprints without all the details needed for construction, I set out to find a contractor beginning in April 2005.

I had gathered the names of contractors from lawn signs in my neighborhood and began calling them. Some weren’t interested. One even sent me a rejection letter. But 15 took my drawings and allowed me to interview them. I crossed some off the list, put stars next to others.

Unfortunately, some of the ones with stars next to their name returned estimates that were well above our $180,000 budget. More names came off the list. I was getting discouraged.

One of the last contractors I interviewed, only because it took nearly two months to get an appointment with him, was David Ginfrida.

Highly energetic, Ginfrida talked non-stop for more than two hours before giving me a price on the spot.

After several other changes to the design drawings, the plans were ready for the zoning board. They were submitted on July 19, 2005. We didn’t get a hearing before the board until Oct. 17. After a presentation by the architect that couldn’t have lasted more than five minutes, the board granted unanimous approval.

With the variance in hand, I began negotiating a contract with Ginfrida, a process that took nearly two months. His original 11-page contract was too short on details for my liking. I added 31 items to his contract, expanding it by another 3 pages. We signed a contract on Nov. 5, but had to wait until April for construction to begin because of his busy schedule.

Having such a detailed contract worked to our mutual benefit. Any questions about materials or labor that arose during construction were clearly spelled out.

While we waited for the contractor, we started working with a kitchen designer recommended by Ginfrida, Bob Amberg from Certified Kitchens in Edison.

Designing a kitchen and picking out appliances and cabinets is the most enjoyable part of the project. But its also where visions inspired by kitchen magazines crash into the reality of a limited budget.

When we first met with Amberg, before we even looked at cabinets, he asked a series of questions to figure out what type of kitchen we wanted.

In his first design, Amberg planned a space for a built in Sub Zero refrigerator. When it came time to pare down the budget, though, it was the first item to go in favor of a more reasonble model.

We did pick a 36-inch Viking range, though. One of my younger colleagues was flabbergasted that anyone would spend $4,000 on stove. I didn’t tell him that we also got a separate Thermador wall oven, for those occasions when one oven just isn’t enough.

Picking a countertop became a point of contention. I had wanted soapston, but my wife, having heard negative opinions about it, was less sure.

A trip to one of the few places in New Jersey that sells soapstone helped clear up some misconceptions. When we first visited M. Teixeira Soapstone, it was located in a forlorn-looking garage behind other businesses on River Road in Garfield. It has since moved to a better location in Hackensack.

Owner Roger Teixeira took more than an hour to explain the different varieties of soapstone and explain its drawbacks and advantages. Yes it does scratch, but surface scratches are easily buffed out with a mineral oil-soaked rag. Unlike granite, it is not porous, so there is no need to worry about spilling wine or grape juice and no need to seal it.

As a compromise, on the island we decided to use CaesarStone, an engineered surface that is billed as maintenance free and virtually indestructible. It costs about the same as granite and soapstone.

In late April, the first signs of construction began. Two men tore off our back porch and pantry. About a month later, the mason arrived with a backhoe. That was the last time we saw grass in our backyard.

The foundation work and even the framing didn’t have much impact on our lives. It wasn’t until late May — when workers tore out the sink, stove, refrigerator, dishwasher and walls — that things took a turn for the worse.

From that point on, we were forced to use our basement refrigerator and slop sink, where dishes began to pile up just as they had when we lived in the apartment.

At first, my wife commented that it was like camping. It soon became more like camping with a female version of the character Jack Nicholson played in "The Shining."

Working from home as a lawyer and raising two kids was hard enough. Add in loud noises from hammering and drilling, interruptions in electrical service, plaster dust and disorganization and it was enough to put her over the edge.

During much of the construction, Elizabeth was in a state of denial. She refused to walk into the addition and even avoided using our back door, which required walking through the kitchen.

Because of the chaos inside, Elizabeth took the kids out to eat often. Restaurant bills soon became a big expense and another point of contention not as easily solved as the countertops.

For the most part, the renovation went without a hitch. My biggest fear — that the general contractor would take my money and disappear before finishing the project — never materialized.

Ginfrida’s framers put up the addition in two days. By the third day, the roof and most of the windows were installed, so rainwater never had a chance to penetrate the house.

Ginfrida’s finish carpenter matched the early 20th century trim around windows and doors. Our porch screens, custom made by another of Ginfrida’s carpenters, look like they were handcrafted in the 1920s.

One of the major dissapointments turned out to be the Viking range. Two of the six burners failed to operate properly. The electronic igniters weren’t sparking or were sparking on the wrong burner. It took a complete rewiring of the ignition system to solve the problem.

Everyone who had ever done a renovation told us to set aside about 10 percent for extras that arise during construction. I thought the cushion was unnecessary. Big mistake. We ended up going over budget by about $20,000.

For the foreseeable future, our wine cooler will be stocked with Charles Shaw cabernet — the $2.99-a-bottle stuff from Trader Joe’s.

My wife likes to point out that it’s ironic I was the driving force behind the kitchen remodel since I never really cooked and she, who loves to cook, was content with our old kitchen. Having grown up as the son of a chef, though, I do know my way around a kitchen. I even bluffed my way into a job as a short order cook in college. Although I don’t see myself becoming Mario Batali anytime soon, I’ve already made blueberry pancakes on the griddle four times. It’s a start.

Elizabeth has slowly come to appreciate the kitchen. I came home one day, and she was baking a butterfly-shaped cake for our daughter’s birthday party. The cavernous Viking oven was filled with nine pans of cake. My wife, her mom, the kids and I were all in the kitchen. Never once did Elizabeth tell us to get out.