I get a lot of questions about my fridge containers and, well, my fridge in general. To be fair, this is mostly because I post about them a lot. Like anything else that winds up on my Instagram frequently, I post about them a lot because they make me happy. They’re now a small part of a weekly tradition that has been created, like so many things, solely because of the weirdness which is 2020.
About two months ago, Jake and I started doing the majority of our grocery shopping at the famers’ market as a way to avoid being in stores as much as possible. It felt safer to shop for groceries outside than indoors and honestly, it was a practical way to get out in the world for the first time in weeks. At first, we were a little nervous to be around so many other people, but our local market is strict about limiting the amount of people in the market at one time and masks are required.
At first, I admittedly thought the novelty would wear off or it’d get too hot, but week after week, we kept going back. And OK, it did get too hot outside, but we continued to go anyway, which should be a testament to how much I enjoy it. Nearly every Sunday we’re in Philly, we do the same routine from start to finish: After waking up and drinking some coffee, we gather up our bags and some ice packs and walk the half-mile to our local farmers market. We go to our usual vendors, get our weekly supply of food. Then we grab to-go coffees and some breakfast and make our way to a nearby park (OK, it’s actually a very old church and graveyard, but it’s less creepy than it sounds) and sit together. We talk about the week behind us and the week ahead and after an hour or so, we head home. I’ll usually stop at a grocery store or convenient store on the way home to grab anything I couldn’t find at the market. And then begins the best part.
For the rest of Sunday, I spend the day organizing and sorting our food, prepping salsas and dressings for the week, and (often) baking something new — scones or biscuits or cookies. I’m not a particularly good cook and I rarely know what I’m doing, but it’s often my favorite part of the week. I blast music while doing it all and at the end I’m always left with (if nothing else) a very organized fridge, filled with individual, organized containers holding colors and foods that make me happy. And you know, as much as I’d love to spend my Sundays to be spent at a concert or packed restaurant or just not wearing a mask, our new Sunday routine for 2020 feels good, too.
Sure, it’s a little cliché (the “white people who love fresh produce and the farmers’ market” holds true), but ultimately it’s a massive, massive privilege to have access to (and be able to afford) fresh produce every week and it’s one I wish we had taken advantage of sooner. I’m glad that I found this new habit in 2020, even if I wish the year were different.
I will be the first to admit that I’m sick of trying to find the silver lining in 2020. I’m sick of having conversations where I try to make this whole year seem even a sliver as good as it would be if we were able to have the wedding we planned or see our families or travel or live life like we did before. I know it’s not. It can’t be. But, still, we must find ways to make it feel worth it. Because it’s what we’ve got. It’s right in front of us. It’s not our choice, but this year is a fraction of our lives, anyway. So we might as well try to fill it (or at least just our fridge) with as many good things as we can.