This will come as a surprise to many men, but women don’t like ‘fridge grazing’.
This only came to light this week, which is a shame as I’ve become an out-and-out pro at this brilliant pastime.
For the uneducated, the skill of ‘fridge grazing’ involves opening the fridge and standing, then scanning and polishing off food without leaving the glowing golden light of the open fridge door.
No need for plates, cutlery, drinking vessels – you just set about the food as nature (or Tesco/Sainsbury/Asda) had intended.
It’s good to think of these instant snacks as the starter to the starter.
Surely it’s polite to rouse one’s digestive juices before sitting down to the main event?
Some may think this is slovenly, but it takes years to master the art and you can hit and munch without anyone even knowing you were there – apart from the absence of the fare, clearly.
A technique I’ve been working on recently is the delicious ‘roll ’n’ swipe’.
Stood with feet shoulder width apart, with the fridge door ajar, open the ham, roll up a slice and then daintily drag the tube across a beckoning tub of houmous dip.
It’s quick, easy and above all delectable. Simply repeat the process until ‘children’s hamless packed lunch’ guilt kicks in.
At my most prolific I’ve been known to stand at the fridge brandishing a sharp knife, carefully slicing a cooked chicken and dipping the delights directly into a jar of mayonnaise.
Idiotically, I’ve been leaving evidence. In the old days I would have eaten all six slices of ham and ditched the container – normally followed by the query ‘I’m sure I bought some ham yesterday, have you seen it?’
Now the supposedly ‘better me’ will only eat five slices, leaving the remaining morsel for another resident.
But the problem is that then becomes a clear indicator there has been some form of pillaging.
The moral of the story; become a better person, think of others and share the hard-earned spoils.
Or eat everything.