Appliance fail

Despite the fact that I move a lot, I don’t really like being in transition. I know there are people who thrive on chaos but, despite all indicators to the contrary, I am not one of them. I like structure, routine, making lists, all those things. I like having a place for everything and knowing that everything is in its designated place. (Note that in a box, in a container, on a ship in the middle of the Pacific Ocean does *not* count as a designated place.) During my long, long stay in the serviced apartment, I daydreamed about the day when I would be puttering in my own kitchen, putting homemade stock in my own freezer, baking cakes in my own oven with my own pans. All my stuff would be unpacked, neatly arranged, easily accessible, and working smoothly in harmony with the array of gleaming appliances that would come with my house.

Notice how I neatly skipped over the part where I got myself situated, figured out where to put all the stuff, and learned how to use everything?

Salvage operations

Rather than bore you with the next segment of the apparently Never-Ending Fridge Drama, I refer you, again, to this post, as yesterday’s visit from Fridge Guy was basically a verbatim repeat performance (involving a different part, to be fair). I did have two things in my favor this time around, though: first, it’s a lot colder outside than it was a month ago, so mostly everything kept in decent condition in insulated bags on the balcony overnight; and, second, a friend gave me a useful tip on speeding up the defrosting process (shut a bowlful of boiling water into the freezer compartment) that allowed me to get everything back inside the fridge in 18 hours instead of 24. Then, it was just a matter of figuring out what was still edible, but maybe wouldn’t be for much longer, that could be made into an appealing dinner with a minimum of fuss. Because when just thinking about the fridge produces an anxiety reaction, it’s probably better for both of us if I just leave it alone as much as possible for a while, and let it get good and cold again. For a while.

Salvage operation chicken
I think this would also work well with pork chops or a thick piece of fish. Pounding the chicken ensures that it cooks faster and more evenly. Quantities are approximate, and should be easy to increase for feeding more people.

1 large boneless, skinless chicken breast that has thawed and can’t be refrozen
Salt and freshly ground pepper
2 Tbsp olive oil
½ cup dry white wine (or replace with stock or other liquid of your choice)
2 Tbsp pesto*
Splash lemon or lime juice
1 clove garlic, minced

1. Put the chicken breast between sheets of clingfilm (plastic wrap) and pound to a uniform thickness of about one half-inch (1.5cm). Season with salt and pepper. Heat oil in a large frying pan.
2. When pan is hot, place chicken in pan and cover. Cook on one side for about five minutes, then turn, cover and cook on other side for 3-4 minutes.
3. Check to see that chicken is done. Remove to a plate and cover to keep warm. Turn heat under pan up to medium high.
4. Pour wine into pan. When it starts to bubble, use a spatula or similar to scrape up any good stuff that has stuck to the bottom of the pan. Allow the liquid to reduce, and add a splash or two of water if you feel it’s reducing too much.
5. Add pesto, lemon/lime juice, and garlic and stir to create a consistent sauce.
6. Check the chicken and pour any juices that have run off into the sauce; stir to combine.
7. Taste and adjust seasonings. Pour over plated chicken and serve immediately.

I served this with rice and broccoli. Dinner was on the table in 30 minutes, and mother and daughter both gave it thumbs up.

* See the picture for my method for freezing pesto so that you can use a little bit at a time; when they're frozen, I empty the cubes into a bag and just take out as many as I need. I was preparing this for the freezer when I got the idea to use some for dinner—hence the empty one.

Déjà vu

It appears that my fridge may not yet have finished messing with me. Despite my (and let’s not forget Fridge Guy’s) best efforts, and this time without any loud grinding noises to signal its disaffection, it is once again getting ominously temperate inside the main compartment. In keeping with its earlier efforts, this second round of symptoms also began to manifest late on Saturday afternoon, with the extra added bonus that it’s a holiday weekend in Australia. (It’s the Queen’s Birthday. Who knew? They don’t even get a holiday in England for that.)

Technical difficulties

Remember how a couple of months ago I did that Eating Down the Fridge Challenge? And blogged about how fun and interesting it was to not go shopping for a whole week, and get creative with what was on hand? I even got to talk up limp carrots in The Washington Post!

Let me tell you, it’s a different story when you’re doing it for real.

The fridge had been acting strange for quite a while—mostly making loud grinding noises, running the motor more often than seemed strictly necessary, and randomly freezing items that were not in the freezer. I put it down to an over-reaction to the dog days of January and February, and did what I always do when machines start giving me trouble—turned up the radio and ignored it.

Irritated at its complaints not being heard, the fridge decided to take things to the next level. Which meant that I noticed that, instead of things being randomly frozen, everything in the fridge seemed to be getting warmer and warmer. Then it started to smell a little funny.

Of course, by the time things had reached this stage, it was 4:00 on Saturday afternoon, the voicemail was on at the repair place, and we had guests coming for dinner.

Faced with the prospect of no way to fix this suddenly-dire situation for a minimum of 36-48 hours, I panicked. Then I took a few deep breaths and thought about what people used to do to keep food fresh before they had fancy modern refrigerators. Then I went to the supermarket and lugged home a 10-lb. bag of ice and nothing else, having determined I wasn’t putting anything else in the fridge until I knew what was wrong with it. (All the while giving thanks that at least the freezer seemed to be working fine through all of this, so in a pinch I could stick things in there…assuming I could find room for them.)

The next several meals were a medley of culinary triage as I plowed through containers of leftovers and bags of produce, trying to determine what was usable and what had been lost, making several horrifying discoveries along the way. (Who knew that much mold could grow that fast?)

The repair man (aka Fridge Guy) showed up promptly on Monday afternoon. We took everything out of the freezer (no small task) so he could get to the motor, and he started poking around while I hovered off to one side, hoping that it would either be a simple repair job or the refrigerator equivalent of totaling your car. Please please don’t let it be something that’s going to leave me in this lukewarm limbo for a week while we wait for a part to come in….

Fridge Man pulled his head out of the freezer. “The defroster for the motor is broken, so it’s clogged up with ice and no cold air is getting into the fridge. I can fix it, but it’ll take a week for the part to get here.”

Noooooo!

He continued, “But if you defrost the freezer for 24 hours, you should be able to get the motor working again to cool the fridge until I can get it fixed.”

Even worse! I’m going to lose everything I still have in the fridge, and the freezer stuff—my last hope—is all going to thaw out! Disaster! I could have cried.

But I had no choice. It had to be done. Monday night after dinner, I packed all the freezer stuff into the fridge (spreading it around in the hope that, as it defrosted, it would give off enough cold air to help keep the fridge stuff from going off), pulled out a few things for Tuesday and put them on the porch overnight (with nighttime temps in the high 30sF/single digits C, I figured it’d be okay), opened the freezer door, switched off the power, and declared the fridge off limits for 24 hours.

It worked out okay in the end. All the frozen stuff, plus the ice, did keep the fridge stuff cold enough not to spoil. And, since apparently I subconsciously view my freezer as an arsenal for making dessert, all the thawed-out stuff just meant that I had to bake even more than usual.

Every cloud has a silver lining. Or maybe a butter lining.

Fridge Disaster Bonus Baked Goods
Here are links to some of the goodies I made to use up my forcibly defrosted freezer stash:

- Chocolate & Zucchini’s Berry Banana Bread (defrosted bananas, raspberries (instead of cranberries), and butter; I made it as muffins and they were devoured at a preschool birthday party in the park)
- 5 Second Rule’s Blueberry Corn Muffins (defrosted blueberries and butter; made a tableful of small girls (ages 2-8) squeal at playdate snacktime)
- Mother’s Day Apple Pie (piecrust; made one overstretched mother very happy)