Know Your Refrigerator

If my life ever became a movie, there would surely be a scene (or maybe just a segment of a montage with a killer song) of Allison and her older sister sitting at the kitchen table, blindfolded, sniffing an opened pickle jar or groping for a red pepper while their father juggles grapefruits or pokes his head in the fridge. For all those geeks who love to point out the subtleties in movies, this scene would be where one film geek elbows his film geek friend and whispers, “They’re foreshadowing. Brilliant!” Yes indeed, that’s exactly what’s happening in the scene, because it’s here that the audience becomes aware of Allison’s passion for food years before even she herself is conscious of it.

After the movie is over, when those same film geeks rehash the scenes of the movie over lattes at Starbucks, the one film geek appears baffled and asks the other, “So what the heck was going on in that scene with the blindfolded kids anyway?” Well, film geek, here’s your answer (warning: spoiler ahead): Oddly enough, one of my fondest memories of my dad as a kid comes from those nights after dinner when my sister and I would remain seated at the kitchen table and play what was commonly referred to in my family as Know Your Refrigerator. What? You've never heard of that game? Well, that's probably because it was created by my father, the staggering genius himself. (Of course after the movie comes out or this blog gets a million hits, which ever comes first, it will likely become a worldwide phenomenon.) The rules of the game are quite simple: the contestants (sister and I) must tie dishtowels around their heads so they can’t see what’s going on, because the game show host (my father) opens the refrigerator and picks out any item he wants to challenge the contestants with – nothing is off-limits, unless Vanna White (my mom) tells him to leave it in the fridge. The contestants may use all senses other than sight to guess what the items are. This game may sound to any outsider, dare I say it, lame, but as far as I’m concerned, this game was the best, and I intend to have it passed down for generations. (Dad, do you think we should play a round of KYR at this summer’s family reunion?)

Now that I’ve shared this sacred childhood memory, I want to turn the attention on you for a second. How well do you know your refrigerator? Have a mushy cucumber hiding in your crispy drawer? An unidentified item in a Rubbermaid container that’s been in there so long you have no idea what it is? Moldy gorgonzola that may or may not actually be moldy? While it’s easy to toss out the nasty items that clearly need to be thrown away because your neighbors have already complained about the stench, all those other random items that are still good and you haven’t the foggiest what to do with really become the challenge. I believe that to truly be a good cook, one must have a penchant for being resourceful with what he/she’s got...which makes me think of “reality” cooking shows. My favorite part of Top Chef are the quick-fire challenges – especially when the chefs are given only a few, specific ingredients that they must use to create something unique and delicious. (Surprisingly enough, I also really enjoy the palate challenge, which I like to think of as a foodie’s version of Know Your Refrigerator). In order to push my limits as a cook, I often challenge myself to do the same thing they do on tv (unfortunately without my celebrity chef crush, Tom Colicchio – yeah, I said it – judging me), because it forces me to use up perishables and think creatively. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I fail, but as long as I’m not trying to impress anyone, why not try?

So with that dear readers, tonight I only ask this of you: get to know your refrigerator. You’ll be glad you did.