I've got to admit, I probably would not mind a kitchen that made me feel like I was cooking on top of the Himalayas. I mean... I wouldn't want it to be my kitchen, but I wouldn't mind visiting. (Please write the fic where Danny somehow ends up in this kitchen, trying valiantly to cook something, and talking about how at least they don't actually have to worry about windchill or the Hand or whatever.)

Earwigs falling randomly from the ceiling sounds horrifying, though. ...though at least they're not the worst bugs to randomly find their way there. At least they're not house centipedes.