When I was growing up, our refrigerator was always home to lots of questionable odds and ends lurking at the back of the shelves: half-empty jars of duplicate jams; tiny containers housing a forkful or two of aged leftovers; cheese sporting unintentional mold; a jumbo-sized squeeze bottle of Heinz ketchup that moved with us from house to house, its cap slowly scabbing over with tomatoey goop.
In college I would sometimes return home for Chanukah or Christmas (we celebrate both) and open the refrigerator to find the month-old remnants of Thanksgiving dinner still biding their time.
It was like the place where good food goes to die….