Making crazy good stuff from an empty fridge: how to be a kitchen creative maniac.

 
Oh, boy. Get ready. No pizza today. You might want to leave right now. But if you stay, there will be some pizza ingredients involved.
 
This is really about making something out of almost nothing.
 
No plan. No prep. No nothing, almost.
 
This one's a little like being on a Food Network cooking competition. Except no cameras and no tattoos.

The end result here is one of those Italian dishes that makes you glad you began to pizza. For some of us, making pizza leads to an interest in other Italian foods.
 
And ultimately, it’s about the fun and satisfaction of simple kitchen creativity.
 
The fabulous Honey Parker and I are in Park City on business. We’re staying at a friends’ ski house, which has been shut down for the summer. 
 
 
So we get here, and the fridge is empty. No surprise.
 
What is surprising is how sparkling and brilliant that fridge is. I didn’t know refrigerators could be so white and bright. Maybe it has better lighting than my fridge.

Refrigerator of possibilities--if you like pickles and whipped cream with ketchup and mustard


​Plus, I cook seven nights a week on average, and often make lunch, too. With all the new stuff as well as leftovers in there, my fridge looks like it’s inhabited by a deranged culinary troll.
 
This friend’s fridge looks like it’s only ever been visited by the condiment fairy who's working overtime.
 
Anyway, Honey left the house to go talk with someone about her hilarious new vampire novel. I stayed home to work on selling her hilarious new vampire novel. (Yep, I'm on the frontline of glamor, kids. And yes, there are affiliate links above and beyond.)
 
 
After a while, I just needed to eat something besides the tough KIND Bars and stiff mini-marshmallows in the pantry.
 
I also didn’t have to dig too far for anything because there was almost nothing to dig through.
 
On a low shelf in the pantry, there were five or six cans. I found one of diced tomatoes, and another of garbanzo beans.
 
That seemed like a beginning. A good protein and my favorite vegetable.
 
In the fridge was the remains of a jar of Better Than Bullion chicken. And the spice cabinet was fully stocked.
 
Smells like soup to me.
 
 
“But,” I wondered aloud, “is tomato and chickpeas a thing?”
 
With the right herbs, it seems vaguely Tuscan.
 
So I did what I always do: I asked Chef Google if that’s a thing.
 
Apparently it is a thing.
 
And now, it’s my thing.
 
 
I doubt it’s even fully, authentically Tuscan—but now, even if I screw it up, it’s going to be fully, authentically mine.
 
Grabbing the cans, I heated some olive oil in a saucepan.
 
I found a jar of chopped garlic in the fridge. So instead of resorting to garlic powder, I tossed some fresh-ish garlic into the hot oil and sautéed it.
 
I dumped the garbanzos and tomatoes together into the saucepan and stirred them up.
 
I whisked in some Better Than Bullion and about a cup of water, along with dried basil, and a bit of dried thyme and sage.
 
Then, a dash of cayenne, a bay leaf, and a few generous cranks of the peppermill.
 
Ho! There’s a tube of tomato paste in the fridge! I add about a tablespoon. 
 
Tasted pretty good. But it still needed a little hit of something.
 
There was no wine open. In fact there was no wine at all.
 
 
I stumbled on a bottle of “dealcoholized” New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, and wondered what fresh, cruel hell that was.
 
Probably smells of a fresh-cut lawn with none of the brain-cell killing fun.
 
I quickly returned it to the non-wine rack and went back to the cupboard. Hiding in the back was a bottle of red wine vinegar. It called my name.
 
A splash of that into the soup.
 
Stir and let it all simmer for a bit until the garbanzos got tender and lost some of their canned flavor. And, as the Italians would say…

 
Là!
 
Soup!
 
Or, as the Italians would say there, minestra!

My friends, this is barely cooking.
 
It’s more of an assembly project.
 
But I know people who would be frightened by all of this – the ingredients, the assembly, the emptiness of the fridge.
 
 
For them, food becomes a kind of prison. Cooking is exile.
 
Statistics show only 10% of Americans say they “love” cooking. The other 90% are evenly split between apathy and abhorrence.
 
Why is cooking such a hound from hell for so many people? I’ve always seen the kitchen as a place to be creative.
 
And I come into an empty fridge situation the same way as I look at a plain pizza: what can we do with this?
 
The result today was:
 
 
Garlicky, herby, savory, salty, fatty fabulousness.
 
To paraphrase one of my favorite Huck Finn-isms, this was about just throwing everything all into a pot together and letting the flavors all swap around.
 
It was really good. When Honey returned, she fell upon it like a rabid hyena.
 
Well, not really. But it’s fun to imagine. And she did like it a lot.

This garlicky, herby, savory, salty, fatty and fabulous soup may not provide as significant a dopamine rush as a pizza, but I bet it’s up there.
 
The garbanzo beans are nutty and satisfying. Never mind that they can also
be considered a super food.
 
 
Garbanzos are also cute. They’re round with a dent and they have those little elfin pointy bits. The fun and friendly legume!
 
And tomatoes. Dude. Sugars, acids, volatile organic compounds. Their flavor-bomb characteristics belie a nutrition-packed profile that includes minerals and antioxidants—including lycopene, which may even protect against cancer.
 
All of this because of an empty fridge.
 
And not much of a stretch in culinary creativity.
 
It’s more about the challenge of figuring out what to do with what’s there.
 
The empty fridge is just a prompt to look more closely and elsewhere.
 
 
Rick Rubin has something to say about this.
 
You may (or may not) know Mr. Rubin as the superstar music producer who’s been the behind-the-scenes genius for performers as diverse as Run DMC, Lady Gaga and Johnny Cash.
 
His book, The Creative Act: A Way Of Being is always on the bedside table. When I wake up in the middle of the night, it’s a good book for reading in small bites. The occasional complex thought about creating things gives the brain something to chew on while trying to get back to sleep. 
 
Last night, I discovered this gem: “Creativity is not a rare ability. It is not difficult to access. Creativity is a fundamental aspect of being human. It’s our birthright. And it’s for all of us.”
 
If you’re like me, you’re now running down a list of all the people who tell you, “I’m not creative.”
 
Of course you're creative. You just have to get out of your own way.
 
And then, this next Rubin thought…
 
 
“To create is to bring something into existence that wasn’t there before.”
 
Oh.
 
Like maybe...soup?
 
Or pizza, for sure.
 
I like this soup for its few pizza components. The tomatoes, olive oil, herbs, salt and pepper are all part of the fun.
 
Yeah, we’re missing the bread and the cheese. But the beans are good for a little jazz hands. The tyrosine in the garbanzos are known to enhance dopamine levels.
 
But more important: trying out creative kitchen things like this is useful. It gets the hippocampus involved and into the swing of making good stuff happen different.
 
Plus, you get to “bring something into existence that wasn’t there before.”
 
It won’t be a gold record.
 
But it’s food in a spoon that makes people go, “Mmmmm.”
 
 
And this is so simple. Is something so simple really best?
 
I think yes, usually.
 
Especially with pizza.
 
Complicating things can lead to an unsatisfying muddle. (I’ve made lots of them.)
 
Rules and limitations force new creative choices.
 
To borrow another Rubinism: “Temporary rules may be useful to break a pattern.” He asserts that innovation exists only within strict rules.
 
“You can use only tomatoes and beans!”

OK. Now what?
 
A new bean soup!

 
What’s that? You don’t like beans?
 
I thought everyone liked chickpeas at least.
 
They’re in hummus. They’re in falafel. Who doesn’t like hummus or falafel? (OK, I know. I have those people in my family, too.)
 
Plus, they’re inexpensive. And hey: super food. Maybe it’s time to try them again? Maybe you’ve been wrong about them? I love finding out that I was wrong about certain foods.
 
And if you try this soup and you have leftovers, you could put the leftovers on pizza.
 
Chickpeas on pizza are also a thing.
 
And soups on pizza work great. You just have to make sure they’re not too runny. I’ve used clam chowder, etouffee, and gumbo on pizzas.  
 
Of course, you don’t have to try this soup.
 
 
Go to the pantry or the fridge. See what’s there for a quick soup. Or a new pizza topping.
 
Wing it. The worst thing you do is fall on your face.
 
And then what?
 
Order a pizza?
 
Or pull the toppings off and eat the pizza you just made anyway?
 
Something from nothing. Playing with food. It’s fun. It’s what’s for dinner.
 
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