Today is National Clean Out Your Refrigerator Day, and I’m taking it seriously. You see, I have an inherited tendency to stick things in the back of the fridge and forget them. My mom, God bless her, lived through the Depression as a bride and young mother. It was an experience she never forgot, and the rest of her life she saved everything—bits of aluminum foil were washed and re-used; bits of string were tied into one big ball; paper towels, used once to clean a counter, were stored in a special place to be re-used for floor spills. And every tiny leftover went into a small jar—often baby food jars she’d saved forever—in the back of the fridge.
When the sad day came that Mom
could no longer live in her own home, my brother and I cleaned out her
refrigerator. And found all those jars with unidentifiable things—mostly never
more than a quarter of a cup. But too many had mold, fuzzy, green, ugly. It
took a huge garbage sack.
Mom thought I was wasteful:
with four teenagers to feed, I chose leftovers carefully—a dab of this and a spoon
of that just wouldn’t do anyone any good. Mom would say sarcastically, “I know,
just pitch it!” Of course, the one dish that could make me save leftovers was
soup. I grew up on what we called Soup of the Week—just clean out the fridge,
throw all those leftovers together, add a can of diced tomatoes or some broth,
maybe a can of corn or something, and voila! There’s a cheap, frugal dinner. My
kids now remember liking it, though one did say, “Why did it always turn out
brown?” Jordan’s boys, husband and son, won’t eat it, so it’s been a long time
since I made Soup of the Week. Christian once said “I’d have to know what’s in
it,” and I told him that was an impossibility.
So today, I decided to inventory
my refrigerator—all those little jars at the back of the top shelf where I can’t
really reach. Here’s what I found: enough pickle products to start my own store—cornichons,
dill chips, two partially used jars of dill relish, pickled jalapenos (and I
don’t eat jalapenos), and the remains of the red onion I pickled myself. An
unopened, out-of-date small bottle of buttermilk I undoubtedly intended to use
in cooking or a terrific salad dressing. An empty used container of Sophie’s
insulin, in its box (the vet told Jordan to keep it, and she’s religious about
it, so I don’t question). An out-of-date tube of crescent rolls, for which I
once had some intended use but I have no idea what. One half lime, dried out
until it is rock hard. Three remnants of sticks of butter, scattered
throughout. A jar of duck fat—I thought I would use it for lots of things, but
it didn’t turn out that way. Three jars of Better than Bouillon, various flavors.
Two half empty jars of sauerkraut. And
that’s not counting the things I really do use, like cottage cheese, eggs,
lettuce. Oops! I forgot to tackle the cheese drawer and the vegetable crisper,
though the latter gets cleaned pretty often.
I didn't tackle my freezer either, but I keep pretty good control of it. Except, like my mom, I save every end of bread, that stray piece left out of a loaf, some baguettes that have gotten old. Here's a hint: dice all that bread, toss the cubes with olive oil and garlic powder, spread out on a sheet pan, and bake for 20 minutes at 350. Commercial croutons can't hold a candle to homemade!
If you look up National Clean Your
Refrigerator Day, the web will caution that you should do this to make room for
the turkey and all the holiday food coming up. Some unknown authority somewhere
advises that you need soap and a bucket of hot water, a sponge, and a garbage
bag. You are advised to start by taking everything out of the refrigerator. I
just didn’t go that far, but the next time the wonderful Zenaida comes to clean
my cottage, I’ll ask her to look at the
fridge. However, unless monitored, she’s liable to throw out things I
want.
My refrigerator is sadly low on leftovers, which leaves me wondering what I’ll have for lunch—I’m thinking that Braunschweiger that’s only meh, with sauerkraut. But today I expect to add something good to the fridge: I have ordered freshly made corned beef hash from a smoked meat company in Wisconsin. Yes, I fell for Facebook marketing—the picture of that has in a skillet just looked irresistible. Christian said he’d eat it with me; Jordan said she has a dinner meeting😊I’m thinking creamed corn would be good with hash.
So what’s in the way back of
your fridge?
