Fridgewatcher is a project where people open their fridges to others. Cause every fridge tells a story.
I'm opening mine to you. You should feel honoured.
Nothing to hide here - I store my vices elsewhere. We have a refrigerator loaded with condiments (I hereby dub myself Queen of the Condiments), leftover manicotti and lentil soup (both homemade). My freezer is filled with quasi-healthy and virtuous President's Choice Blue Menu products, frozen tomatoes from my garden, an apple pie, a trifle, scallops and smoked salmon. The front of my fridge used to be plastered with my kids' art but they grew up and no longer draw for mum so now I have only a couple of photos, reminders of dental appointments, coupons which I shall never use and which will end up in the garbage, receipts for insurance and a small poster I picked up in Paris. What did you expect? Nothing but champagne and caviar? The closest I come to that is the almost empty box of chocolates from Maxim's in Paris that are resting atop last night's manicotti.
This exercise has made me think about how my fridge's innards have reflected my own life cycle. When I was young and single I ate out most of the time and all I'd keep in the refrigerator was some milk for tea, a piece of cheese, some pate and 3 or 4 Heinekens in case a young man popped in. Later my fridge was stuffed with juice boxes, cheese strings and chicken fingers for the kids. What comes next? Digestive biscuits, Metamucil and cat food to smear on a cracker?
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