My grandma has never been one to throw away food. The expiration dates are just a suggestion and the best by dates mean the food is good indefinitely, it just won't be as good. From the burlap sack full of liquefied onions in her closet to the box full of fuzzy strawberries in her fridge, there is nothing in her house I feel safe eating.
Going to her house is an assault on the senses. Just opening the door unleashes a vomit inducing smell. It is as if death itself resides inside, as the smell past the door is almost unbearable. The sight of the food in her fridge would make even a starving person think twice before eating it. Without a cast-iron stomach and completely unresponsive taste buds most of her food is completely uneatable. Even looking at the food is unpleasant.
Her 3 refrigerators are all bursting at the seams. Although most of the objects in her fridge are unidentifiable, (I can't tell the chocolate pudding from the T-bone steak) she is very efficient at packing as much of it as possible into her fridges. It doesn't help that she buys more food every time there is a sale.
I have lost count of the number of times I have become ill as a result of her cooking. I was naive enough as a child to keep eating more of her food after my first illness.
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