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A look inside Todd Kliman’s refrigerator
This morning, one of the BrightestYoungThings founders, the statuesque Svetlana, started pawing through my refrigerator, asking all sorts of invasive questions about the products stored in there. She even brought along a photographer, Jeff Martin, to catalog everything.
I felt like I was in a Roger Moore-era Bond movie — without the sex, violence, or unnecessarily slow-moving dipping mechanisms.
Maybe I should have mixed them a martini — shaken, not stirred — as they went about their work. Or maybe I should have made myself a martini. I mean, I didn’t realize how thorough Svetlana and Jeff would be. They were pulling apart our fridge, looking for the crappy yellow mustards and sticky bottles of ketchup that I had hidden in the back. They acted like they were looking for state secrets, not putting together a fun little Food Month feature for the BYT site.
Both of their fridges look suspiciously clean and well-stocked (well, well-stocked beyond the beer/wine/condiments/leftovers/dog food that rule our fridge in Takoma Park). I promised Svetlana that I wouldn’t clean my fridge up too much. I also said that I refused to take down the semi-embarrassing “literature” magnetized to the fridge door or add vegetables to the crisper to make it look like I shop at farmers markets more than I do.
So whenever you get a peek into my fridge on BYT — look for it one day soon — you’ll get a genuine peek into our real lives, only slightly cleaned up. I’m sorry, I had to ditch those old yogurt containers. I had no need to knock-out my kitchen interlopers with moldy yogurt, even if it would have made for a nice Bond-like moment.
Photo courtesy of Jeff Martin and BrightestYoungThings