I have a can of star fruit. It came in a basket of equally odd stuff I was given years and years ago. I used some of the things, gave some away, and only the star fruit is left.
The mystery is not where it came from, but why I still have it. I have moved three times since I got the gift basket. I have moved this can of food three times. Why? Why don’t I throw it away, or donate it to a community pantry? I have packed it in a box, with other canned goods that I actually had the intention of using and wanted to move, but by the second time I moved the star fruit, I knew it was more of a tchotchke than actual food.
I wonder how old a can of star fruit can be before it’s unsafe to eat?
Well, I woke up this morning, of course wanting coffee. No coffee. I just bought coffee last weekend. A large red plastic tub. The red tub is missing. I never toss those things. I re-use them things. As you might know I live a long long way from the nearest Jip-mart. I am walking around in a daze, no coffee, no thinky! Maybe I will make a cup of tea, good idea, I put water in the kettle, put it on the flame, go to the pantry to find tea bags. Guess what is in there, right where it always is? The large red can if coffee! WTF? it wasn’t there 2 minutes ago, I would’ve sworn in court it wasn’t there. How did that happen? Am I getting dementia? Is someone trying to drive me insane? Is it the cats or aliens? The mystery only deepens!
I just moved and the previous home owner left a goodly quantity of food in the pantry, so that’s been interesting, but what I can’t figure out is where my chef knife went. I unpacked the knife block, and the rest of the knives that go in it, but I’m looking at the big knife and it’s close but not a match to the set. It’s an old one that usually lives in a drawer. I only noticed because the tip is slightly bent, and I was about to pitch a fit (internally) when I realized I’d already done that years ago. But still - where’s that matching knife for the set?
We either have way too many cans of tomato sauce and no paste, or way too many cans of tomato paste and no sauce. Let’s not even bring up the mysterious appearance of the huge case of Kirkland canned whole tomatoes of 2012, during which there was neither tomato sauce nor paste.
Another kitchen mystery:
We’ve been living in this house for 12 years. There was a dishwasher already installed when we moved in, and it was old then. A few months ago it finally crapped out so I decided to replace it. Like everything in the house, it was installed improperly, using the wrong type of hoses, so it all needed to be swapped out.
While I’m working under the sink to replace the drain line I notice that, for whatever reason, the drawer area between the cabinet front and where the sink is installed is boxed in. I’m annoyed because it makes the undersink area even more cramped and difficult to work in.
Then it occurs to me: there are two ‘fake’ drawers above the cabinet doors at the sink, which I had assumed to be fixed decorative items like they are with just about every sink cabinet I’ve ever seen.
I get up, and carefully tug on one.
They turn out to be actual drawers, nearly completely useless, about 3” deep. They contain about 1/2 inch of dust, a couple of sink strainers and some plastic dish cleaning brushes that are so old the plastic breaks when I pick one up.
^ Your sponges/scouring pads go in there (until they stink so bad–because you forgot they were there–you have to toss them). Plus, a bar soap, because real men don’t squirt liquid soap.
I actually have that little drawer in my cupboards too. Never use it, except when I lose things and am dumping drawers and cabinets looking for them, the running joke in our house is ‘look in the useless drawer’ as opposed to ‘look in the junk drawer’!
There’s the darnedest greenish-blue clumpy stuff that seems to be growing on its own in a couple corners, sometimes partly covered in white fuzz, with the odd spider or two.
But other than that…
Mysteriously, I’ve had problems in the past trying to read expiry dates…with challenging results.
::hmmm, wondering if I should start a separate bathroom thread::
Actually I keep a spotless kitchen, which baffles the hell outa me why I still get tons of fucking fruit flies swarming around the sealed garbage under the sink in summertime. I even put all foodscraps in a recycling bag in the hardly-used freezer - it’s like they can start a colony off a single crumb.
Does anyone ever have the slightly different problem where you remember buying many cans of (for example) tomato paste/sauce over a period of time-- in fact, it seems like you buy some every time you go to the store. But when you go to make a recipe you can never find any of them?
That happens to me with small rolls of Scotch tape (of any brand). I buy those by the six-pack or dozen but can NEVER find a roll of tape when I need it.
I used to have that problem with scissors. So I bought enough pairs that I could put at least two in every room of the house. Now just about no matter where you sit down in my house, you can reach out your arm and find a pair of scissors. Or two.
Yeah, maybe I won that battle. But I’ll never win the War of Objects.
Oh yeah, I got tomatoes. I got tons of cans of tomatoes. Those are no mystery, I remember buying them. Now. It’s like those The Silence aliens in Dr Who, you only remember when you’re looking right at them.
At the point of purchase I apparently couldn’t remember the previous purchase, but I could clearly remember the concept of needing to but more canned tomatoes. Then when I got home and opened the pantry, I did remember to get some the last time at the store when I did get some. And the time before that and the time before that and the…
I have a strange feeling Gleaners may be getting Pinto Beans and tomatoes(of many assorted sizes and consistencies), in their donation boxes this year.
My daughter keeps the kibbles bag in a closed cupboard above the refrigerator. She regularly comes home to find the cat has opened the cupboard, pulled out the kibbles bag, and torn it open, with kibbles all over the floor. Now she’s trying to thwart him by keeping the kibbles in a tightly closed plastic container.
