Fridge Friday
You asked to see inside the fridge, so here is inside the fridge.
Last day at work before four weeks off, most of which will be spent here, with a list of things to finish and a longer list of things to start.
When I asked a while back what people actually wanted to see, a surprising number said the fridge. I am not a cook and I have never pretended otherwise, so anyone hoping for a still life of home-made stock is going to be disappointed. With two of the three of us away for a fortnight, it is emptier than usual as well.
The appliance
It is one of the few things in this house we spent real money replacing, and we replaced it because the one that came with the place had been shut in an empty house for over a year and smelled like it.
The first replacement was a cheap one, on the theory that a fridge is a fridge. It is not. The plastic shelves began to crack within weeks, and the exchange that followed with the manufacturer was not one I would repeat. The current one has been fine for years and I have nothing interesting to say about it, which is the correct amount of interesting for a fridge.
It is not big. It holds food and drink for three people without any trouble at all, which says more about how we eat than about the fridge.
What is actually in there
The drinks dispenser is a US buy from years ago and still one of my favourite things in the kitchen. Nothing here needs a dispenser. It gets used constantly anyway.
The cheese dome is not attractive and works beautifully. The planer usually lives in there alongside the cheese, on the grounds that a tool kept next to the thing it is for is a tool that gets used.
The vegetable drawers are two, and they are divided with empty ice cream containers. Carrots in one, potatoes in another, anything else piled on top. This is the same trick as everywhere else in the house: the drawer is not the storage, the boxes inside the drawer are the storage, and they are free.
The door holds bottled cooking things and a growing collection of hot sauces belonging to someone who is not me.
Squeeze bottles, bought in bulk in the US, doing duty in here and also full of cleaning liquids elsewhere in the house.
And a cheap Australian chardonnay, which is what I drink in July.
Skål.