The Big FreezeNow that Purim is done and dusted, I beg the question; just what is the story with us and our freezers?
Out of all our appliances; why do we break down like a 1980’s Ford Escort when our freezers pack up?
I’ll tell you why, through a detailed analogy as follows;
A ship goes belly up and sinks, taking all its passengers with it.
Yup, that’s about it.
When your freezer dies, it has everything inside that you wanted to keep just in case you can't get to the shops.
After all, you never know when;
-Your car won’t start without warning
-Guests turn up without warning
-Armageddon arrives without warning
Most frum women I know have more than one freezer and these freezers are always full, yet there is never anything to eat in the house.
We females are so dependent on our freezers that our priority shows itself in the discourse we have with our peers.
Female #1: “I fell down and fractured my leg in fifteen different places. The doctors say I won’t be walking for months and when I do, I will have a noticeable limp.”
Female #2: That must be terribly inconveniencing for you. I wish you a refuah shlemah.
Now, notice the difference when the conversation concerns freezers.
Female #1: I had builders in the garage and they switched off all the power by mistake, so everything I had in the freezer defrosted and had to be thrown out.
Female #2: OH NO!!!! What are you going to do???? What a tragedy!!!! Hashem Yirachem!
This is obviously elementary, after all, once you’ve stood in your kitchen for hours and cooked food, the only place you want it to go is in peoples mouths: not in the gaping jaws of the local sanitation vehicle.
I would have to say that a freezers greatest enemy are children-in-search-of-ices. These children leave the freezer door open while they rummage around looking for the odd ice pop that might have fallen out of the now empty box. Or they try to freeze Evian bottles full of orange juice and need to check on their progress every two minutes.
Then, if leaving the freezer door wide open isn’t bad enough, the kiddies never close the door properly so the cold air escapes slowly and surely until everything that was once rigid with frost becomes completely damp and limp like fat men after a sauna.
Before a Simcha, freezing isn’t even a luxury, it’s a necessity. When a woman davens that everyone should be in good health and her guests should arrive with their luggage and that everything should work out, she will put in an extra bit about her freezers.
“Please Hashem, Master of the Universe, You who have given man the Daas to create electricity, please watch over my freezers so my Simcha can be complete.”
On the other hand, you can tell a lot about a person by what they store in their freezers.
-If you store food that is peppered with paprika and heavy on garlic, you are most likely Hungarian.
-If you store food that is perfumed with cinnamon and honey, you are most likely Sephardi.
-If the question isn’t what you have in your freezer, but rather WHO you have in your freezer, you are most likely a psychopath and I ain’t eating at your house.
My favourite freezer story is actually a classic in the Kasamba household. It involves a much beloved and adored Auntie and Hubby’s deceased grandmother.
It was a family get together, six months after the passing of Hubby’s paternal grandmother, Omi. Auntie, the daughter in-law of the departed, presented all assembled with a beautiful apple pie. Everyone had a piece and was marvelling over the lightness of the dough.
In response, Auntie said, “Well, it is Omi’s dough.”
“Oh”, her son elucidated, “You mean, you used Omi’s recipe to make the dough”
“No” Auntie replied, “It IS Omi’s dough.”
“Huh, what do you mean, it is Omi’s dough?”
“You know… from her freezer”
There was a deafening silence after the almighty ‘CLANK’ that was made when everyone threw down their cutlery.
In spite of everything, freezer or no freezer, a person’s food should never outlive them.
What’s with that term ‘freezer burn’ anyway?
Freezer, brrr cold.
Burn, achhhh hot.
Go figure. Another thing I won’t ask Rabbi X.
Now before Pesach, I must delve into the depths of my freezer on my mission to either search (and devour) or destroy. Because of the aforementioned ‘freezer burn’, most of the time I must destroy, but even the act of throwing away the remnants of last Shavous’s cheesecake, brings back lovely memories. (Sound effect: birds chirping)
Whenever this time of year barrels along, I always feel like an intrepid explorer braving the sub artic conditions to forage through the icy depths to retrieve some ancient, fossilised prize. However, once the freezers are empty, I start to feel like my car’s gas gauge reads less than 1/10 full. Yup, I get nervous. Maybe it’s because I’m a gilgul of someone who went through the Irish Potato Famine or maybe it’s because I’m part Hungarian, I dunno, all I know is I just can’t rest until my freezers full again.
And so, the cycle continues.
Ah, the circle of life.