The Smell from the Fridge

We have been catering to this horrid stench coming from the refrigerator region for the last week. It began, as most things do, quite suddenly with just the slightest subtle bit of rancidness. Each day, I'd go through the remnants of leftovers, guessing at what might be causing the odor, throwing things out and flushing them down the garbage disposal. For the most part, I'd notice that the smell was gone until about twenty minutes later when I'd re-open the refrigerator, sniff the air and think, "Man. Seriously? What could it be?"

It got to the point that I was throwing things out that I'm not even sure were bad, but had no other choice. It was like sacrificing to the leftover Gods...and their hunger was insatiable. Something had to be causing it! There must be some way to relieve the scent.

We went home to Cape Girardeau this weekend and D left the "instructions note" on caring for the dogs, birds...etc...with a note that the weekend inhabitants could eat anything in the fridge. I "P.S.-ed" that everything smelled, but nothing was bad.

When we returned, none of the food had been touched and the scent was now lingering OUTSIDE of the refrigerator. So with a vengeance, I tore through the fridge again at 10:30 last night. D and I looked UNDER the fridge thinking maybe something had gone under it and died...nothing. 

"Maybe it's time to clean out the whole thing and just wipe it down all over," D suggested.

"I just did that last month," I groaned, removing beer bottles and condiments from the shelves, nosing around freshly purchased veggies and milk. "It's still clean!"

Then it happened: my hand landed on a ziploc bag with three lone brussel sprouts in it. We'd eaten these sprouts a week ago or so and I'd, clearly, forgotten about them since they got shoved off the back of a shelf and were dangling precariously between shelves. No wonder I didn't find them sooner! They'd hidden in the balance between levels of food and beer. Bastards!

It was with dread that I entered the kitchen this morning. D sat up on a stool at the breakfast bar reading his book beside the chirping birds. I faced him on the other side of the bar at the sink and filled up an oversized mug with black coffee. "Does it still smell in there?" I asked sipping at the scalding liquid. "I don't think," he said hesitantly, "But I'm stuffy." He referred to his allergicly reacting stuffy/runny nose.

Slowly, I opened the door to the fridge and took a deep breath. Finally! We have success!

So "Sunday Dinner" tonight will be odor free. More on Sunday dinner another time.

Thank you leftover Gods! It seems we have FINALLY reached their quota!

N