Finishing the fridge

[jethrien]

For some reason, eating my way through the fridge feels like a victory. There is a strange satisfaction to finishing off the leftovers, a moral superiority that goes beyond the triumph of not having to throw out wasted food. I think it's almost like clearing a level on a puzzle game--I could have gotten to the end of the week/puzzle just by cutting a direct route through the obvious meal choices. But no, I have persevered and combined the strange things into an oddly palatable meal, thus getting the 100% completion bonus!

Perhaps I expect to be awarded a pixelated crown or something.

Anyway, there's a certain degree of ridiculousness. (Not to managing to not waste food; that is in fact a good thing. This triumph, however, is more directly linked to being able to see to the back of the fridge and feeling successful at having made it more tidy and empty.) Because now there's basically nothing in there that can be combined into a real meal. (I challenge you to make an edible combination of barbeque sauce, maraschino cherries, powdered buttermilk, and the last bit of jicama.) Which means we have to go shopping again and fill the fridge back up. Which I suppose has its own satisfactions.

This message is brought to you by my lunch, which apparently is going to be chestnut puree, sauteed brussel sprouts, and wedges of the aforementioned jicama.

Comments

[redstapler.livejournal.com]

Yeah, the "Bringing Lunch" factor is always huge.

That was part of what skewed my gauge so hard. Seth (Hilary's bf) would make enormous quantities of food, and then eat that for the whole week.

I try to do that, and then three weeks later remember there's a tupperware with some white rice and browned beef in it. Gross.