Freezer

I lived for years without a freezer without ever minding very much. Certainly this allowed me the luxury of dreaming of all the goods things I would cook and put by should I ever have one: I imagined with pleasure the efficient domestic angel I would then become. Now that I do have a freezer, and a big American one to boot, it is indeed full. And, yet, I feel faintly resentful of its fullness.

The difficulty I find with stuffing a freezer full of food to eat at some future date is that when that future date comes I probably won’t want to eat it. This is not because the food will spoil or disappoint, but because every time I open my freezer I see the same efficiently-stowed-away packets of coq au vin or beef stew or whatever it may be, and I get bored with them. I begin to feel as if I’ve eaten them as many times as I’ve opened the freezer door.