I don’t think my mother would mind me telling you that she is somewhat of a pantry voyeur. Friends are well accustomed to her inspection of their pantry and her questions about what they do with various ingredients. I can understand the appeal, pantries can be surprisingly personal in a similar way that looking into shoppers’ trolleys reveals quite a lot about a person. Do they cook, or are they assemblers of food? Is food a pleasure or a means to an end? Are they adventurous in their choices? My Aunt’s pantry was the source of much fascination, not because she was a good cook but because she was such a bad one. She could repurpose seemingly ordinary ingredients in ways that should never exist. She should probably be given kudos for creativeness, even if it often didn’t work.
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