The French Fridge

We are standing around the kitchen one night, having drinks. I am making dinner. It's the beginning of spring, the windows are open and the mood is large. Someone opens the fridge to grab another beer. Then: Gasp.

– "Les amis! You can't keep eggs in the fridge!!"
– "What??"
– "You can't keep eggs in the fridge! They're porous! They soak up all the smells! You'll destroy them!"

The eggs are rescued and put on the counter; the party goes on.

I grew up with only one hard, fast rule about the fridge: No strawberries once they've been rinsed. But here in France I've been scolded into adopting a more comprehensive fridge regime.

As discussed, under no circumstances do eggs go in the fridge. Idem for tomatoes as the tomato-lady at our market repeats every time we see her: "Not in the fridge, now," she'll say, passing us our bag.

In an ideal world, cheese does not go in the fridge as it is a living breathing entity, more animal than vegetable, and risks "suffocating" from the lack of air. In an ideal world, cheese is wrapped in paper (never, NEVER in plastic, see "suffocating" above) and put in a garde-fromage: a specially constructed box made of wood and wire screen that allows the cheese to ripen without help from bugs.

The wrappers on butter will tell you that butter "prefers" to be kept at room temperature, but the French people I know agree this is impossible. So butter is kept in the fridge, but in its own, dedicated compartment.

And then there is fish. "Putting it in the fridge changes the texture," swears a friend who I trust on this one as she's the daughter of a fisherman. I've seen her blithely toss two huge bass in the sink on a Friday where they stay until Sunday lunch.

It's taken me some time to get used to, but in the end I find the French fridge rules quite practical. With less food in the fridge, there's more room for champagne.

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