Saturday, September 15, 2007


I have a great fear of perishables spoiling. When I go camping, and grocery shop before we leave town, I don't buy perishables for fear that they will go bad on the way to our destination, regardless of how close it may be. I've been ribbed about this in the past.

So this morning, I reach into the fridge to get the OJ out and I think, "Huh. The fridge doesn't seem to be getting very cold." I look at the controls and sure enough, the fridge isn't really even on. Apparently when the old tenant moved out, the fridge was turned off. And no one turned it back on. Including me.

So I immediately panic. What have I eaten out of there this week? I haven't touched the mayo. In the garbage it goes. Butter? It's probably okay since people sit it out on the counter. Tortillas? They're okay. I just stick them in the fridge to make them last a little longer.

But the half and half from last weekend. Oh god.

It was damn near a solid mass.

I can handle baby poop and puke on me. I can handle blood and the CSI shows where they demonstrate how a brain will explode upon impact. But curdled half and half? I just about lost it.

A little story:
When I was, oh......12 maybe? My parents and my other mother's son took a road trip to West Virginia from Texas one summer in our Nissan mini van. Breakfasts were normally at McDonald's. One particular morning, I was preparing to enjoy my cold, flat pancakes on their styrofoam plate when I opened my little carton of milk and took a big swig. Back when I drank milk. Which I don't much anymore, and I'm pretty sure this is why.

Yes, you guessed it, the milk was curdled. Now, it's one thing to become aware of curdled milk before you drink it thus having time to say "Gross!" and chuck it. It's another thing to have it in your mouth. And then panic. In public.

I'm not sure what happened after that. If I spit it out at the table or if I ran to the bathroom. It's all a blur. All I know is that as soon as I open a milk container now, I take a whiff. And I've had to explain this to people so that they don't take offense. I tell them, it's not that I think you would keep bad milk around, it's just a habit now. I do it without thinking. And it has saved me more than a few times.

I didn't bother to sniff the half and half this morning. I just knew.

1 comment:

The Hamilton's said...

YUCK! When I was in the hospital after having Leah, Butch went to get me milk from the little kitchen area for recovering mommas....and I did exactly as you did.....only to find it was spoiled. Ewww. The date was plenty good, but ewww. I start smelling milk about 3 days before the date that the carton has on it.