Tumbleweeds, almost.

My friend the Happy Luddite once exhorted that the scene at our college subterranean cafeteria--part lovingly, part loathingly referred to as the "skellar," where every Tuesday night kids turned out in droves to use up all their meal points on crappy fruit drinks and junk food-- was like "post-Communist Russia: empty shelves! Nothing!"

I was reminded of that last night after inspecting my refrigerator.

There are a few items on the door too, but nothing notable--your basic-ish condiments. Want to try and name those foods? It shouldn't be too hard, though in taking a closer look I realize there are some containers whose contents you probably won't be able to guess.

It's times like these that I really want a life like Laurie Colwin once described, where all she had was a tiny fridge and a electric burner in her NYC studio but still managed to make scrumptious little meals all the time and there was simply no space for space.

It's nice having room, maybe not so much in the fridge but certainly at home. But you know, it really reminds you that...there's a lot. Of empty. Space. Everywhere. It's a new and unusual experience for me.

No cooking tonight, too tired and, obviously, low on food. (Though, note that in my preceding post I forecasted two weeks of coverage. Hmph! It probably just felt like more because I practically plucked my arms from their sockets carrying everything home.) Tomorrow, however? Tomorrow holds the promise of a barley & vegetable soup taken from Marcella Hazan. See, I looked at my empty fridge and said to myself, but wait! You have grains, and lots of them. Time to focus on the dry goods. So even though I've been trying vaguely to replace carbs with vegetables, the contents of my cupboards must be put to good use. Expect future meals starring farro, lentils, quinoa and perhaps risotto if I can work up a batch of stock this weekend.