I have a theory that the intimacy or closeness of a relationship is directly proportional to the level of your familiarity with an individual's refrigerator.

This is one of the many random thoughts that popped into my head the other night as I lay with my head on my pillow, waiting for my thoughts to quiet down enough so I could fall asleep. This is the type of thought that often pops into my head when I'm trying to sleep. I even have a notebook beside my bed just for instances where the thought happens to be something profound. However, I rarely have a pen attached to that notebook, thereby rendering the notebook almost pointless. That, and the little fact that I never have my contacts in when these thoughts start rumbling, and will be forced to hold the little notebook and pen directly against my nose in order to see my writings. Or ramblings. But it is there just in case.

So back to my theory. I'm really quite sure about this one. And I'm not sure why it's so, but it seems to be. For some reason, there's something kind of intimate about the insides of a person's refrigerator. It's rather telling. Is it filled with junk food? Is it empty? Stacked with takeout boxes? Tupperware containers of leftovers? Moldy stuff? What type of milk do they drink? Do they have beer in there? Cokes? Organic stuff? Are the shelves clean? Who are these people? There really is so much you can tell by the contents of a fridge, just like you can tell things about people by the clothes they wear.



The minute I walk into my parents' house, WITHOUT fail, I immediately walk to the fridge, open it, peruse the contents and then close it. Periodically I help myself to something that strikes my fancy. It's like a ritual! And I think just about all my siblings do the same, even though none of us lives there anymore and really shouldn't be helping ourselves to the fridge's contents. But since we're so close to our family, we have no qualms about checking it out. Or the freezer. Which is guaranteed to contain some type of ice cream. This is because most of my brothers LOVE ice cream. I could care less about ice cream. But my brothers will, almost without pausing, grab a pint, a spoon and just dig right in. A bowl would just be superfluous.

My best friend in high school, I was quite comfortable going through her fridge. Her mom always made interesting food, so it was always kind of exciting seeing what was inside. Seriously, I find that I know I've really hit that optimal comfort level with a friend when they either tell me to go grab something from their fridge, they help themselves to something from mine or it's just understood that the fridge is fair game. Because it's even more personal than opening your home to someone. It's opening your fridge! The nucleus of your kitchen! On the same token, when someone I don't feel close to goes and swings open my fridge door, sometimes it gets my hackles up! Woah!!! We don't know each other that well!




It's an interesting phenomenon. Fridge familiarity. What does mine say about me? Well, I hate to clean the shelves. There's always something on them. I only use real butter. Usually unsalted butter. No margarine to be found. I like organic stuff, milk in particular, but I don't go crazy over it. I always have leftovers of some kind, since I cook a lot. Lots of soups. I usually have 2 cartons of eggs, free range or organic. I use a lot of eggs. I have a lot of interesting ingredients for my more interesting cooking adventures, things like wasabi paste, anchovy paste, lemon curd, black olive tapenade, flax seed meal, wheat germ... I keep my bread in the fridge, along with bagels and flour tortillas. Hidden under my veggies in my veggie drawer is a Hershey's bar. In case I ever get an urge for a S'more. I like to have a full fridge. When the shelves get too empty, it means we've reached the end of the week and it's time for me to create next week's menu. So, there you go. Some random fridge disclosure.