Just Like Home

Just Like Home

Opening the fridge door, Samantha stood stock and bent forward just a fraction, the tip of her nose growing cold. What to eat. There were no leftovers……yet. Sunday is ‘turkey day’, or in other more traditionally minded circles - Thanksgiving Day. Today, she didn’t really feel very thankful because her fridge was practically empty. A half carton of milk, a chunk of cheese ready to be eaten and a jar of olives. There were only a few olives left floating in the green pickling juice. She supposed she could make a sort of meal. She pulled out a crisper drawer, not expecting to find anything worth eating - a bag of lettuce? Bought yesterday with a few dollars when passing the Farmer’s Market on her way home from work. Her growling stomach was making her very curious. There were mushrooms - also ready to be eaten up. 

Pulling everything out of the fridge, setting them on the cupboard, she looked at the sad little bit of food. It was the downside of being out on her own. She had her own apartment, muttering "after all I am eighteen and I have a job". The rent is always paid but her refrigerator never looked like her mom’s. No pies or snacks or tasty things…….. If she wanted cookies, she had to buy them. Never interested in cooking she hadn’t learned where all that goodness had come from. "I was so looking forward to Thanksgiving Day! Mostly for the food - turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, saskatoon berry pie…….I'm making myself hungry just thinking about it."

Sam picked up her phone. “Mom, can I come over early tomorrow and help you cook dinner?……Yes, I know I don’t know how to cook and I’ve never wanted to…..I know but………Mom, listen…I’ll wash the dishes, I’ll peel potatoes, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. What do they call that - a sous chef?…….Oh, a prep cook…….I can do that and I want to learn how to cook so I can have a real home refrigerator.”

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Official cooking classes at the community college started exactly one month after Thanksgiving. Sam wasn’t sure how she was going to manage working afternoons and going to night school but was determined to fill up her refrigerator.

“My refrigerator is powerful. In fact, it has 

a direct link to my overall well-being.”

~ Kris Carr,  American author