The Grossest Thing

Earlier this week I was under the weather.

I felt myself coming down with a little somethin' somethin' on Sunday evening, and all through Monday I sniffled at work and then Monday night I was shivering in bed and barely slept. I called in sick (well, emailed in... do people still "call in" anywhere?) and spent much of the day in bed.

At some point I made soup and then, for dinner, I felt like something sweet. Unfortunately, my choices were limited.

Let me comment about my refrigerator before I continue.

My fridge is pretty well-stocked. I usually have an apple or two and some lettuce; several types of cheeses (including cheddar, for late night quesadilla adventures); a doorful of condiments (mustards and steak sauces and whatnot); lunchmeats; beers that people have brought over and not consumed.

In other words, lots of stuff. As a single guy who can barely keep his half-dozen (up from three!) plates washed, I'm pleased that I keep myself in a position to be able to make food if I really needed it without leaving my apartment.

The thing is, not all of that food is good. Half of the lunchmeat is out of date, there are two half-consumed two liters of soda, and I don't even want to open the more distant tub of sour cream.


In other words: I'm good at buying food, and I'm decent at eating it, but I'm bad at cleaning out my fridge.

If you read the title of this blog, you might be worried after this preamble. But this is not a blog about fungus or rancid meat or gerbils who have sprung, fully formed, from head cheese (I don't even know what head cheese is, and I'm disgusted to learn it's a meat product; I was going for an Athenian birth allusion... )

No... this blog is based on the grossest thing I have encountered in my refrigerator:

Chocolate chip juice.

"What is chocolate chip juice?" you might ask.

There are two answers I can give you to that question: the first is that I have no idea what it was--chemical breakdown of the chocolate chips? condensation from the fridge? Spilled water from my Brita filter that I never use but has been sitting on the top shelf right above the bag of chocolate chips at the back of the fridge for a long time?-- and the second is that it was a liquid I found intermingled with the chocolate chips in the Nestle bag.

The problem was not just that I had impaired chocolate chips, but that (a) I had already mixed the pancake batter, and (b) I had my heart set on chocolate chip pancakes, and (c) I had no second bag of (unrunny) chocolate chips.

So... I powered through. I pulled the strainer out of my cupboard and poured the chocolate chips into the strainer and I rescued a few lucky chips from sharing the fate of their brown brethren (the trash can) and put them into the half-dozen flapjacks I made.

They melted strangely and weren't quite right, but they were close enough in terms of taste to stave off my sweet tooth... and I am still alive so it seems the chocolate chip juice was not poison nor was it the antidote to otherwise poisonous chocolate chips.

Earlier today, though, I stepped on a sticky spot on my kitchen floor. I thought I was rid of the chocolate chip juice, but I will have to spend time mopping that mystery sauce before it's gone once and for all.