A Kitchen Optimist

I don't know why they call them refrigerators. I call mine a "food graveyard", where all that expensive healthy food I buy goes to die. The veggie drawer alone is simply terrifying - when did I buy green onions? And what IS that weird purple spongy lump in the ziploc at the bottom of the drawer? Could it be ginger?

Isn't ginger brown, not purple?

Anyway, today I girded myself, filled the sink with hot soapy water and attacked the fridge. And I can proudly state that as of this moment, everything in there is *ahem*

Edible.

Better still I washed out both sides - how the HELL did chocolate get on the walls of the freezer? Seriously, how? And I threw out no fewer than ten half bags of freezer burned vegetables. So help me I'm going to start using the whole bag. Honestly.

There's a feeling you get when you bring order to that untamed wild that is the kitchen. I feel positively Martha Stewart, tying on my seldom used apron and scurrying around, coming up with ways to preserve those odds and ends ("I know! I'll pre-chop the celery and freeze it for use in soups and stews!" Never mind that by the time I get around to this it will be buried under a mountain of freeze died mystery meat.)

It seems like in a crazy world, sometimes the only venue left I have control over is the kitchen. And it is the one place where my optimism shines through each and every time. My gardening efforts have long since faded, I no longer sort my socks - but I still lust after those cute little wicker organizers for my kitchen and scheme methods for turning those leftover veggies into a delicious homemade chicken stock with the carcass of the chicken I bought at Boston Market last night.

Muffins, anyone?