Note the freezer "door," the cheapo rose, the full range of dairy products, and the jar of mustard that looks enormous. Don't worry, it's an optical illusion - but that little jar is still strong enough to take out a few rugby players. Not that I would ever use mustard for ill.
MCM naturally wanted to know why I was photographing the fridge, and I explained the post. "But did you mention all the great food I make for you?" he pouted. "Ohh! Just about to do that!" I lied. It's true - MCM made some delicious lamb and veggies tonight. But the point was not how good our food is, but whether or not our eating habits had changed dramatically since we moved here. The answer is that, surprisingly, they haven't.
Oh, now you've done it! If I ever get my computer back up, I'll have to scan the pictures of my Parisian kitchen...although, I think I only have one, of the "stove" that everyone thought was a microwave. It was like a glorified toaster oven with two burners on top. It took us a while to realize that if the "oven" was on, the burners wouldn't heat up--quel luxe!
ReplyDeleteAnd ours didn't come with a fridge, either. We spent about two months keeping our dairy on the tiny windowsill overlooking the cour (read: shaft) until my roommate managed to cadge us a tiny fridge like yours.
Ah, the memories...
And I thought I had a tiny freezer. You're a saint for being able to live with a cramped fridge I don't think I could.
ReplyDeleteOh, Lordy, that's bad! Now let's see the crappy little oven.
ReplyDeleteBodoba, you can get used to anything - or at least, I can. An added bonus is that staying at my parents' is like staying at the Ritz. There's definitely something to be said for keeping your own domestic standards low.
ReplyDeleteFlartus - yep, that's my oven! I'll try to get a photo up soon.