Ravings of a Textual Deviant

In preparation for the arrival of the new fridge tomorrow morning, I had to empty the old one. I got out my cooler and made as much room as possible in the mini-fridge that’s finally out of the garage and in the breakfast room. My fridge has a not-undeserved reputation for being, shall we say, overpopulated. I knew this going in, in a back-of-my-mind, theoretical sort of way.

The reality of was something else entirely. I haven’t completely emptied the fridge since we moved into the house in October of 2000. Yeah, I know–in a back-of-my-mind, theoretical sort of way–that you’re supposed to empty out a fridge and clean it every couple of months or whatever. But there’s always somehting else more interesting to do, like a play, or laundry, or waxing the cat. I had to check my blog for earlier entries to figure out when the last time I cleaned the fridge actually was.

I decided to tackle the freezer first, because that compartment was smaller. Also because the less-savory things would be safely encased in ice. There was half of the bag of whole coffee beans I bought for Ed when we started dating (I also bought a coffee maker for him; never touch the stuff myself) in 1996. That was before I realized that he’s happier with instant because it’s easier. There were two(!) partly used bags of frozen squid. Nine frozen egg yolks and four frozen egg whites (separated) from various baking adventures. I think there was even a very small mammoth in there, although I admit that I was afraid to unwrap the foil to confirm. I realized that the vast majority of the stuff I’ve actually used in the past year was in the door, not the compartment itself. As I got further and further into the freezer, I noticed a sort of geological layer effect. I’d originally been very organized when I put stuff into the fridge. However, as time went by, I got more and more haphazard, so that the back half of the freezer was stacks and rows of neatly wrapped and labeled plastic containers and foil packets, while the front half was a tightly-packed random arrangement of bags, boxes, and resealed packages. After throwing out everything that was expired, dessicated, or unidentifiable, I managed to cram almost everything into the large freezer in the garage.

On to the refrigerator compartment…

Unlike the back half of the freezer, there was no organization whatsoever. I started on the top shelf and worked my way back. The first shelf was fairly easy–large tall containers of juice, milk, the can-dispenser full of lemonade cans, a brand-new container of Ed’s leftover Chinese food, and a fairly recent slice of pepperoni pizza, wrapped in foil. I don’t like pepperoni, and Ed almost never eats leftovers, but squirrel-like, I was compelled to save it anyway. The cheese drawer yielded up a few very tiny pieces of parmesan cheese rind, but nothing green. One vegetable bin was empty–I’ve been avoiding buying refrigerated stuff since Tuesday–and the other had some bagged salad and carrots. I got rid of the cheese rinds, pizza, flat soda and flat champagne, and had a nice false sense of security going.

On the second shelf, things started to go bad. Literally. There was a box containing about 20% of a cheeseball I’d bought last Christmas and defrosted for use somewhere in the vicinity of April. Ziploc bags full of green and white fuzz. Plastic containers I’d forgotten I’d owned full of same. A bird’s-nest of dried-out cooked spaghetti. Leaky yogurt containers. A piece of cardboard that had adhered to the shelf. The third shelf yielded half a jar of antique roasted red peppers, a jar of pickles with the lid half-unscrewed, something that was tomato sauce in a former life, and no fewer than three separate small containers of homemade chocolate sauce of various vintages. The thick, slippery contents of half a can of coconut milk. I don’t remember the last time I used coconut milk, although I’m fairly certain it was within the last six months.

The fourth shelf was blessedly unremarkable–mostly recent bread products that were still perfectly edible–providing much-needed relief. I was actually sweating by the time I got to the fourth shelf, although I can’t say for certain that it wasn’t an allergic reaction to some variety of green or white fuzz.

Finally, the only thing left to tackle was the door, which was mostly condiments in bottles. Oyster sauce, lime juice, peach salsa, Thai-style peanut sauce, plum sauce, ketchup, mustard, two bottles of kalamata olives (one open, one not), two maraschino cherries floating in their bright-red liquid, lemon curd, barbeque sauce, grape, raspberry, and blue rose hip jelly (no idea where that came from), freakishly artificial maple-flavored syrup (Ed’s; I won’t touch the stuff), spicy shrimp-cocktail sauce, cilantro-walnut pesto from Trader Joe’s (not very good), rice vinegar, and 1/8″ of bottled Lite Ranch salad dressing. That’s the big mystery item; I don’t buy premade salad dressings very often, and I certainly wouldn’t have bought either Lite or Ranch. I know I haven’t used the salad dressing, and yet, the bottle’s nearly empty.

Last, the outside of the fridge–magnets and the things they were holding up. The letter we got a couple ofyears ago that let us know Ed was no longer being sued. Coupons for pizza. An expired gift certificate for a massage (Ed’s, from me). The phone number list. A safety sticker for beer. A small assortment of cartoons, paycheck stubs, and business cards.

Now, I can go to bed with the satisfaction of a job well done. The only thing left is a box of baking soda that predates our move-in.

This entry was posted on Saturday, June 19th, 2004 at 11:41 pm and is filed under Tales from the Kitchen. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.