As The Food Turns

3 days until Christmas, so what better time for a clean-out-the-fridge post? As mentioned a couple of weeks ago, cleaning out the fridge is no longer the guilt-ridden task it used to be. I have become a composting zealot, convinced that I am saving the world with the 7-gallon bucket full of food scraps that we generate each week.

Saving the world, for only $25 a month. Can't beat that, right?

So, here is the latest picture:

You'll note the remnants of our Chanukah latkes at the bottom of that center stack there. Apparently, 8 days is not long enough to eat a double batch of potato pancakes. Is there a religion with 2-week-long holidays? That might work better for us.

Above those is some expired Costco kale salad, which I was eating at an inordinate rate earlier this year. Well, the bloom is off the rose (or the kale, really), and this stuff is often found decomposing in the fridge. But do I feel guilty? No, I do not. We are returning it to the soil from whence it came, where it will grow more kale destined to rot in our refrigerator.

Like I said, people, it's the cycle of life.

What's not to like?

Above the kale is the rice. We made it to eat with this microwavable chickpea thing that I picked up at Costco, and no one liked it much but me. My kids are way too picky, and there's not a darn thing I can do about it. On top of the rice is the scallion cream cheese, which I picked up weeks ago during my visit to Brooklyn. At this point I can't tell whether the green bits in it are mold or scallions, so it is also being returned to the earth.

That foil thing at the top is some garlic bread David made for us -  it got lost beneath all the other crap on my kitchen counter, so the kids never finished it. That happens to other people, too, right? That's, like, a normal thing?

To the left are the (apparently unpopular) baby carrots I bought for the veggie tray when I hosted Bunko (in November), and to the right are assorted lemons and apples that have seen better days. They will join their brethren in the compost bin and decompose peacefully together.  I'll tell you the truth: when I look in that compost bin? I feel proud. PROUD of my wasted veggies and uneaten leftovers. Proud, because I know that they will never be a part of any landfill avalanche, killing innocent people. Proud, because my wasteful habits provide soil for community gardens.

I am CHANGING THE WORLD with my rotten food. At least, that's the story I tell myself, because we all need our pretty little fictions to get through the day. Or maybe that's just me?