So after reading my plea for help below, you may be eager to help this Gourmet in need. Here’s your first project. It’s called: WHAT’S IN YOUR FRIDGE? (<--the all caps add dramatic heft). The mission is simple. Photograph and/or describe in words the interior of your fridge and e-mail it to me. Tell us all about what you keep in there, what's old, what's new, and what's unidentifiable. I'll do the same right now to get you started! * * * * * * * * * * * My fridge stock is quite abnormal. The only normal things in there are Lauren's. Let's take a look, shall we? [You can click to make larger, but it's quite large, I warn you...]
Beginning at the bottom shelf and reading from left-to-right (my fridge is not a Hebrew text), you will see Lauren’s orange juice and Lauren’s Lactaid milk. I lied when I said the only normal things are Lauren’s. Lactaid milk is so not normal! Lauren is a lactard.
Next you’ll see mayonaisse that I purchased (even though I hate maynoaisse) to make Pasta, Petso, Peas. (Hit it CHER!) Those are Lauren’s blueberries resting on (one more time CHER!) the Pasta Pesto Peas that has already fed both of us twice, with still more left over.
The Sprite and Coronas are left over from the party we had for our joint birthday.
Ha, I just noticed that way in the back (back on the left) behind the orange juice is soup that I literally ordered a month ago from Doc Chey’s. That’s nasty! I better throw that out.
On the second shelf you’ll see old rotted cream that’s left over from ice cream or Condoleezza pudding. That’s Lauren’s hummus or peanut butter, it’s hard to tell. And those are genetically modified eggs that Lauren bought nervously for fear I would criticize them. Her fears were founded: just buy the organic ones from Whole Foods!
The top shelf looks like a fridge from “The Day After Tomorrow,” except with better acting.
Let’s see, there’s tonic water–still left from our last party. Some kind of packaged turkey that Lauren eats. Land-o-lakes Margarine that I bought in bulk and never used because I’m a butter man and I don’t know what I was thinking. There’s grated Parm up front from the Pasta, Pesto, Peas (go ahead, Cher); prepackaged garlic for those times I don’t feel like chopping; leftover Thyme from the pickles; Lauren’s hot sauce, my capers and up front, wrapped in paper towels, dehydrated celery leftover from the pickles as well. I thought I’d use it to make tuna. I was wrong.
Ok, moving on to the side door:
Our side door is depressing. The only encouraging thing is the jar of pickles on the top shelf. I ate some tonight. Very tasty!
Otherwise, the rest are condiments, mostly Lauren’s. That Land-o-Lakes butter is, again, an ill-gotten purchase by me. The Baking Soda is standard, who knows who bought it. It may have been there before we got there, and yet I still use it in my baking. The rest—salad dressing, ketchup, mustard–is too mundane to mention. What is not mundane is the buttermilk on the left side of the bottom shelf. That must be decades old. My fridge is disgusting.
Perhaps we should escape to the freezer?
The freezer, at leasts, holds some proud achievements. The top shelf features chocolate ice cream, Thyme lemon sorbet and burnt caramel all Tuppered away. The lower shelf features God knows what. Those peas are from the last time I made Pasta Pesto…(shut up, Cher). And I have no idea what that soccer ball is.
Now that I’ve bared my fridge to you, I hope you’ll do the same! Send ’em in folks. And throw out your bad buttermilk.