All I have to say is this:
Holy crap, that woman has an enormous fridge.
That is all.
* * *
Yep. I did it; I cleaned out my fridge.
And I took pictures.
Partly because with Food Waste Friday and Sandi’s (semi-)regular fridge cleaning, I felt compelled. But mostly because I was flabbergasted at how much stuff was in the damn thing.
It’s not that I never clean it out—I go through and pitch stuff that’s expiring and give the trays a wipe every now and then—but this was a big clean out. Like, haul everything out, shelving included, and wash it all down.
So here we go.
The before—
Run, children, it’s about to get scary...
Okay. You were warned...
Here’re the contents spread out on our kitchen counter—
Seriously.
THAT was hiding in that fridge. All of it. Can you believe it? Me neither.
Items that
This Wall o’ Dairy, for one. Impressive, yes?
And I can see we need to go on an egg run. Seriously. I’ve mentioned before that Mr Lannis likes his eggs, and he hasn’t slowed down (yet). That dozen-and-a-bit will last maybe three days...
Oh, and this photo is missing the cheese. I mean all of the cheese: a block of marble, a container of parmesan, assorted cheese strings, and a bag of shredded mozza to add to pizza.
See? Cheese.
Er... or you don’t see, since I neglected to take a photo. It was there, believe me.
What also shocked me was the number of bottled drinks.
As a rule we’re filtered water drinkers (our very same fancy-pants fridge has a dispenser on its inner wall), and the boys get juice (made from frozen concentrate) at breakfast. And Mr Lannis likes to make his own lemonade by the glass when the craving hits.
Erm... and that’s my booze. Yep. All of it. Mr Lannis, while he enjoys a glass of wine here and there, is really more of a beer drinker.
Pfft. Beer. Whatever.
Condiments anyone?
Yeah, that’s no fewer than four types of mustard there. I’ll let you think about that for a moment...
...
Four. Types. Of. MUSTARD.
I have no explanation.
And five different flavours of jam, only one being homemade (Mr Lannis’ mom’s blackcurrent jam—yum!). And assorted sauces and toppings and whatnot...
The giant tub of mayo is Mr Lannis’ fault. NO ONE ELSE IN OUR HOUSEHOLD TOUCHES IT.
[::shudder::]
I’m pleased to say that with all the clean out, there was really very little waste—two almost-empty bottles of salad dressing (not pictured) only days past their prime. Really, like, one expired three days ago. (I was impressed, too.)
And the grossest thing I saw was this—
I know! No fungus, nothing rotting, no science projects hiding in Tupperware, or grimy fridge trolls of any kind... I’m (almost) disappointed.
Then this happened—
Uh... hm... my pristine fridge looks an awful lot like my messy fridge.
Well, this is embarrassing.
Perhaps I should get to work on getting rid of some of that booze...
I live in a small town with my favourite people: my husband, Mr Lannis, and our two boys, along with two cats and one hamster.
If you follow me on Twitter, you might witness my issues with linear thought, road rage, spending more money on food than books, and potty mouth. Be warned.
This time last year: The Day We Went To Visit Lannis
