By Jean Ponzi
Down under, beside the sink, where the sun don’t shine, our kitchen cabinet pantry is low and deep. Must do an armpit-to-fingertip stretch to catch more than the first visible row of cans.
As maintained by someone like me, such space was sure to evolve. Circulation Dept. to Science Lab to Household Hazardous Waste-O-Rama!
One day, reaching in for a chili lunch, I was mildly surprised to feel resistance. Sticky black stuff I’d been ignoring in the shadows off to one side had migrated over the whole top shelf and captured the chili can.
Time to excavate that cabinet. I strapped on my camping headlamp, filled a bucket with hot water and Simple Green, and grabbed a funky sponge. Squat! Thrust! Yuck!
I sorted the cans and jars as I pulled them free, determined to conserve all edible resources.
Seafoods easily took the prize as Most Prevalent Item (As Yet Unused). Two tins each of sardines and anchovies, still in their colorful paper wrappers, were joined on newspaper on the floor by three cans of minced clams, all marked Best if Sold by . . . date smudge. Did I stock these products for a Hillary Clinton victory event? Could they still be good on pizza? Then I drew out a red can of Pink Salmon, which rattled, and decided these fish were all washed up.
The dense black goo had apparently leached from the king-sized can of Cheery-Fresh Unsweetened Cherry Juice I got on vacation in Door County, WI when my parents were still living up in our home state. I remember reading the label’s Door Cherry Harvest Story on the Washington Island Ferry and deciding to defer tart cocktail pleasure for a time when I could toast with the folks. Sadly, Mom and Dad have passed beyond all cheery cherry cares. Great Lakes dream boat stalled, no juice.
Some items, scrubbed clean, I returned to their places, pending further research. What is the shelf life of Lard, exactly?
I recycled containers on a case-by-case basis. The remaining half a six-pack of Heileman’s Old Style Lite (original LaCrosse brewing ceased in 1996) still smelled yeasty and sort of foamed as it drizzled down the drain. I’ll bet those cans weighed in with 50% more aluminum than any beer brand uses today. Three tall cool ones for St. Louis City Recycling!
Toward our kitchen recycling bin I exiled a queen-sized can of V-8 Vegetable Juice. At least I believe it was V-8, since I know I gave the paper label to Campbell’s For Computers, a program (now defunct) that benefitted schools. I had replaced that label with a handwritten note:
Lightly Tangy!
With Refreshing Lemon Flavor
100% Vegetable Juice
SHAKE WELL
Poetic me, skipping the brand name. And smart move, ignoring that last directive.
When the cabinet shelves were scoured clean of all thick-liquid can-shaped circles – and when the “outs” were processed in a recycling bin or trash – I stashed the few canned keepers back inside and hopped online to seek help.
Lazy Susan and her hefty twin Swivel-Lee now help me keep cabinet stuff un-stuck. Out of dark corners and circulating sensibly. Labels intact – to keep our food waste responsibly low.
Tinned fish, anyone? I’ll just give our pantry a twirl!
Jean Ponzi explores Earthy topics in her Earthworms podcast conversations from KDHX.org, and through her work for the EarthWays Center of Missouri Botanical Garden.