Technology has made life easier in the modern day. The refrigerator and microwave are only two of the many appliances we have in the kitchen that help us live simpler. But did you know that sometimes these technologies can be used against us, transforming good components into bad ones?
Yes, today we will talk about refrigerators and how they can contaminate some of the most often consumed foods. Are you ready for some unexpected discoveries in the kitchen? Let’s get going now!
1. Cooked rice
Rice, our wonderful companion, comes first. In the UK, the National Health Service states that refrigerating rice can cause serious food poisoning. It’s true that fried rice leftovers stored in the fridge for more than a day have the potential to become fatal petri dishes. The maximum amount of time rice should be exposed to the inside of your refrigerator is two hours. Some molds can start to party after that. Heating it repeatedly? That’s just asking for trouble, my friend.
2. Celery
Next are onions. How much they have seen us weep! Onions don’t pair well with the cold. When chilled, their starch turns into sugar and welcomes mold like an old friend. Have you ever refrigerated an onion that has been half chopped? It’s like to laying a red carpet for dangerous bacteria and mold. Because onions are very good at absorbing bacteria, you could really gather all the germs in a room with just one slice of onion. Fantastic, but this is definitely not something you should eat.
3. The onion
Garlic, the flavorful base of so many delectable recipes. It would be like having a mushroom festival if you put it in the fridge. Stored unpeeled and at room temperature, garlic grows well. Refrigeration can damage its nutrients and essential oils, resulting in a loss of flavor and health benefits. as well as eating bad garlic? Not the delicious trip you had hoped for. Think about experiencing nausea, upset stomach, or perhaps liver damage.
4. Ginger
Finally, our zingy friend ginger. You might think it’s a good idea to freeze or refrigerate ginger, but think again. Mold is drawn to this strong-smelling root faster than a wintertime sneeze. That mold as well? Hepatic and renal issues are connected! Fresh ginger relieves gas and bloating due to its potent antioxidants; however, when it has a fuzzy, green coat, these benefits are negated.
That’s it for now. You should never store these four culinary items in your refrigerator, shockingly. Your food will thank you if you follow these directions; it will taste excellent and be safe, free of mold and toxin. Until the next time, happy cooking and even happier eating!
My 81-year-old grandma started posting selfies on Instagram with heavy filters.
The notification popped up on my phone, another Instagram post from Grandma Rose. I sighed, tapping on the icon. There she was, her face smoothed and airbrushed beyond recognition, a pair of oversized, cartoonish sunglasses perched on her nose. A cascade of digital sparkles rained down around her. The caption read, “Feeling my vibe! #OOTD #YOLO #GrandmaGoals.”
My stomach churned. At first, it had been a novelty, a quirky, endearing quirk of my 81-year-old grandmother. But now, weeks into her social media blitz, it was bordering on unbearable.
It had started innocently enough. She’d asked me to help her set up an Instagram account, intrigued by the photos I’d shown her of my travels and friends. I’d thought it was a sweet way for her to stay connected with the family, a digital scrapbook of sorts.
But Grandma Rose had taken to Instagram like a fish to water, or rather, like a teenager to a viral trend. She’d discovered the world of filters, the power of hashtags, and the allure of online validation. Suddenly, she was posting multiple times a day, each photo more heavily filtered than the last.
The captions were a whole other level of cringe. She’d pepper them with slang I barely understood, phrases like “slay,” “lit,” and “no cap.” She’d even started using emojis, a barrage of hearts, stars, and laughing faces that seemed to clash with her gentle, grandmotherly image.
The pinnacle of my mortification came when she asked me, with wide, earnest eyes, how to do a “get ready with me” video. “You know, darling,” she’d said, her voice brimming with excitement, “like those lovely young ladies on the internet. I want to show everyone my makeup routine!”
I’d choked on my coffee. My makeup routine consisted of moisturizer and a swipe of mascara. Grandma Rose’s “makeup routine” involved a dusting of powder and a dab of lipstick.
The worst part was, my entire family was egging her on. They’d shower her with likes and comments, calling her “amazing,” “inspiring,” and “a social media queen.” They were completely oblivious to my growing dread.
I was trapped in a vortex of secondhand embarrassment. What if my friends saw these posts? What if my coworkers stumbled upon her profile? I could already imagine the whispers, the snickers, the awkward attempts at polite conversation.
I found myself avoiding family gatherings, dreading the inevitable discussions about Grandma Rose’s latest post. I’d scroll through my feed, wincing at each new notification, my finger hovering over the “unfollow” button, a button I couldn’t bring myself to press.
One evening, I found myself sitting across from my mom, the glow of her phone illuminating her face as she scrolled through Grandma Rose’s profile. “Isn’t she just the cutest?” she gushed, showing me a photo of Grandma Rose with a digital halo and angel wings.
“Mom,” I said, my voice strained, “don’t you think this is… a little much?”
My mom looked at me, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean? She’s having fun. She’s expressing herself.”
“But it’s not her,” I argued. “It’s like she’s trying to be someone else.”
“She’s adapting, darling,” my mom said, her voice gentle. “She’s embracing technology. She’s living her best life.”
I knew I wasn’t going to win this argument. My family, in their well-meaning attempt to support Grandma Rose, were completely blind to the awkwardness of the situation.
I decided to try a different approach. The next time Grandma Rose asked me for help with her Instagram, I sat down with her and gently explained the concept of “authenticity.” I showed her photos of herself, unfiltered and unedited, her smile genuine, her eyes sparkling with wisdom.
“You’re beautiful just the way you are, Grandma,” I said, my voice sincere. “You don’t need filters or slang to be amazing.”
She looked at the photos, her eyes softening. “Do you really think so, darling?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
“Absolutely,” I said, squeezing her hand.
Grandma Rose didn’t stop posting, but she did tone it down. The filters became less intense, the captions more genuine. She even started sharing stories from her life, anecdotes that were both heartwarming and hilarious.
And slowly, I began to appreciate her online presence. I realized that it wasn’t about trying to be an influencer; it was about Grandma Rose finding her own way to connect with the world, to express her joy, to simply be herself. And in the end, that was more than enough.
Leave a Reply