We realized early on in our appliance search that we’d need an unusually small refrigerator to fit the existing opening in our kitchen (yes, “fridge hole” is a thing). We’d hoped to find one in stainless steel with side-by-side doors because we loved that layout in our first kitchen, but after plenty of searching it became clear a perfect fit would be harder to find than the Loch Ness Monster.
So we slowly warmed to the idea of removing the built-in box around the fridge to gain flexibility with dimensions. By taking out the hollow upper portion of the cabinet and re-hanging it higher, we could accommodate a taller fridge. Then we’d rebuild the side panels at a new depth so the new unit would look more integrated and custom. Even if we somehow found a tiny enough fridge to fit the existing footprint, we would still need to rebuild the side panel to make the installation look flush — the old fridge stuck out about six inches beyond the cabinet face and its top hinges were exposed. We also never liked how the beam sat awkwardly into the side of the cabinet, so some minor beam adjustments might be part of the plan. We decided to improvise as we went, the usual approach here.
Removing the side panel and the cabinet above the fridge was our official plunge into kitchen demo. We weren’t gutting everything; we planned to reuse and adapt most of the existing cabinets. First step: empty all the cabinets. To be safe, we cleared out the adjacent tall cabinet too, since we thought it might have to come down. Our daughter Clara offered minimal help, except when the task involved placing toy pigs on a step stool.
With the cabinets emptied, it was time to roll the fridge out of its cubby and take a look behind the scenes. Rolling the appliance out revealed a mysterious electrical cord that led nowhere (we’ve already contacted our electrician). From the fridge’s usual position we could look up and tell that the cupboard was attached only at the sides and top — not the back — and that the beam actually passed completely through the cabinet. That was unexpected.
We also found an order form from November 1982 tucked inside the cabinet, which means this kitchen is only a few months older than I am. The cabinets were made by QuakerMaid, a decent cabinet maker by all accounts, which made us relieved that we were working with solid, standard-sized cabinetry. They’re nearly thirty-five years old but still in good shape. In contrast, the cabinets in our very first kitchen dated to the 1950s and were so tiny they couldn’t even hold standard dinner plates. (Note: the address on the old order form belongs to the cabinet maker from back then, not to us.)
Back to the removal process. Detaching the fridge cabinet from the adjacent unit seemed straightforward: we found long screws driven through the tall cabinet into the fridge enclosure. We removed those screws expecting the cabinet to come crashing down, so John stood beneath it for support. But it didn’t come down easily — of course it didn’t. It turned out a single floor-to-ceiling side panel on the left was keeping the whole assembly upright. That panel was built into the floor and ran to the ceiling, and because it was so flush there were no exposed screws or obvious grab points. After a few failed attempts to pop it loose, we opted to cut through it carefully with a jigsaw to preserve as much wood as possible for future repairs or matching.
Before making the cut we reinserted three long screws through the cabinet on the right to stabilize everything. That worked like a charm. John and I each made a long cut through the side panel, which then swung free. Once the panel was mostly detached, we removed the temporary supporting screws while John stood underneath to keep things safe. Amazingly, Clara slept through some of the loudest drilling and sawing we’ve ever done — we were both impressed and grateful.
Seeing the full beam confirmed our earlier decision not to extend the altered cabinets all the way to the ceiling. While tall cabinets can look great and add storage, cutting the beam would have looked awkward and would have required more extensive structural work. The beam actually disguises a scarred ceiling where two old rooms once met, so it needs to stay. Also, other built-ins in the room, like the pantry, don’t reach the ceiling and we plan to keep them as they are. Once everything is painted and topped with coordinated trim, we expect the room to feel balanced again. We’ll add trim to the tops of the cabinets to create a polished transition, similar to other kitchens we admire.
For now the opening shows that mystery wire and some unfinished edges, but it also gives us room for a taller fridge. As soon as we see everything painted and the trim installed it should look intentional and cohesive.
That said, as we considered a taller fridge we began to wonder if we should move the unit entirely — the corner still feels a bit cramped. A new location would mean more drilling, lifting, and heavy work, so we decided to table that idea until we were less exhausted. We’ll share more photos and details as we make progress and finalize the plan.
P.S. — I recently saw an inspired nightstand-to-play-kitchen conversion that was one of the sweetest upcycles I’ve encountered. So creative!