Column: Cleaning out the fridge by eating our way through it

For the first time in recent memory, I can see the bottom shelf of my refrigerator.

I wish I could take credit for this miracle, but I am only the catalyst, not the heroine. Since I’ve been off my feet, more or less, for over two weeks, I just can’t buy as much food as I usually do.

And, as Martha Stewart would say, that’s “a good thing.”

As I wrote in a previous column, I had foot surgery at the end of September. For several days, I was virtually immobile. Then I was able to hobble around on crutches. I eventually was able to get out and about in a stiff post-op sandal. Finally, the doctor removed my bandage and stitches and issued me an “air cast,” or walking boot.

My husband, Paul, said it made me look like a partially dressed Imperial Stormtrooper from Star Wars.

My sister, who had the same surgery a few years ago, said the boot represented “freedom.”

I thought the boot would enable me to resume much of my normal lifestyle, albeit at a slower pace. I made it back to work for a day and did well. The next day, however, I was exhausted. I rested. As I felt great the day after that (due to taking it easy for 24 hours), I got into the boot and headed off to the bookstore (Paul drove; I won’t be able to drive for weeks) to buy new releases for my school library. Later, I had Paul take me to the grocery store. 

One shopping excursion had been enough. I felt like a zombie as I slowly pushed my carriage down the aisles. I stuck strictly to my list. That’s unusual for me.

The day after that excursion, my whole body hurt. I guess swinging the boot around makes me contort my body in strange ways. It seemed to me that the only way I was going to be able to get back to work full time was if I had Paul do most, if not all, of the grocery shopping.

I enjoy grocery shopping. Paul views it as a strictly utilitarian activity. Also, he is doing many of my chores, such as feeding the cats and dogs and cleaning the litter box. So, sometimes, instead of asking him to go to the market, I have tried to put together alternative meals from the fridge.

For example, one day I thought I would like have turkey sandwiches for lunch. But we had no deli turkey slices on hand. We did have half a carton of vegetable broth, half a carton of chopped tomatoes, garlic, frozen mixed vegetables and plenty of herbs and spices. Voila: soup.

My forced confinement has caused me to run out of things I’ve never been without before. At one point in early September, I know I had at least three mustard jars open. One was a regular dijon; the second was the same Grey Poupon, possibly purchased because the first container was lost in the back of the refrigerator; and a Trader Joe’s grainy dijon, which was a deliberate purchase. Last night I finished them all up, and Paul had to go out and buy a new jar.

Then, when I went to make myself a salad for lunch, I finished off a bottle of citrus salad dressing. Needless to say, I still have some blue cheese, parmesan peppercorn and Greek on hand, not to mention olive oil and three kinds of vinegar. But actually getting to the absolute bottom of a bottle of salad dressing before it gets cakey and unappealing and possibly toxic—I was amazed.

I know buying too many groceries is a bad habit, and I’m hoping that four more weeks of hobbling in the big boot will break me of it. There are methods to my madness, of which I’m all too well aware. The salad dressing array is to keep me interested in making salads for my lunch. This meal, when eaten at work, has traditionally been difficult for me. Nothing seems to work for long. This year, however, I discovered that I enjoy “mason jar salads.” I pile up dressing, veggies, meats, cheeses and whatever, and add a handful of lettuce on top. When I dump the jar onto a plate, the lettuce goes down first and the dressing last.

Sometimes I see good deals at the store, but have to buy a certain quantity of the product. I try to only buy one or two pieces of fruit at a time, but in the summer, when it’s cherry season, I can only find them by the bag. I simply can’t eat them all before they go bad.

Then there are the times when I feel virtuous in the market. I will eat bran cereal in the morning! Every morning! No, I won’t Soon the bran is joined by Rice Chex, steel-cut oats and Grape-Nuts. This is how my pantry and refrigerator fill up.

From my chair, my sore foot propped up on a pile of pillows, I can only write humble lists for Paul. If they were more than 10 items long, I think he would rebel. I only include the things we need for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and a few snacks. Turkey bacon, bread, lettuce, feta cheese, milk. Cat and dog food. Biscuits. Two apples, preferably Macs. A whoopee pie for Paul.

At this rate, we're going to eat ourselves out of our pantry and refrigerator. What a concept!