Long past the Sell By date

Admit it. Behind that half-finished, three-year-old jar of gherkins which you will still use because gherkins don't go off, do they? is an unopened jar of Ouma's Pickled Cauliflower that you bought at the country fair five years ago. Located nearby is a ziploc bag (aren't they supposed to keep everything fresh indefinitely?) with a block of cheese covered in enough penicillin to cure the STD ward at a large hospital. That unopened bottle of Cape Velvet Cream has a date of 2003 on it, but that's got alcohol and will be alright forever, right? Why have you not drunk it yet?

In the back corner of the vegetable crisper is a small chunk of cabbage, its surface wilted and grey and barely fit for a compost heap. Even a porcupine will turn up its nose at such fare. Still in its supermarket clingwrap is a head of broccoli, its florets now a mustard yellow from age. And the leeks you bought in anticipation of a subtle leek and potato soup you saw on the Food Channel have shrivelled and lost their appeal.

As you delve into the bowels of the pantry, you come upon the orange jelly you bought for last summer's carrot mould salad, and a tin of chickpeas you bought when the urge to turn vegetarian struck some years back. On the top shelf of the baking cupboard is a box of custard powder that expired in 1998.

But you will agree that the path to culinary heaven is paved with good intentions, won't you?