The Kitchen Chore That Changed Everything for my ADHD Brain.

AKA how I won the battle against the Sludge of Shame.

Like many of you, I’ve been a bit charmed by this 2016 trend on social media, and taking a trip down memory lane.

One of the things I was doing that year, was teaching at the short-lived startup “Society of Grownups” and my class was called “No Cereal For Dinner”. There was no kitchen, so it was really a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants lecture/seminar about feeding yourself in a doable, delicious, and financially responsible way.

Looking at this place, it’s a hipster time capsule of the era, a really fun collab between IDEO and MassMutual. PHOTO BY BOB O’ CONNOR

I had a blast in these sessions, and I think the students did too, and one of my most popular concepts was The Sludge of Shame (I wonder if I could get that trademarked).

It refers to that unfortunate situation where you head to the grocery store, or the farmers market feeling overly ambitious. You fool yourself into thinking you’re the kind of cook who makes dinner 7 nights a week. Not just any dinner! The kind that requires bunches of delicate leafy greens, cabbages bigger than your head, bushels of sparkling berries (because that’s the kind of dessert you eat now!), and bundles of herbs you don’t even know the name of.

You get home, and fill your produce drawer to the brim, feeling smug and satisfied (if slightly broke from buying half your bodyweight in fresh produce).

And then, life happens. A meeting runs late. You get invited to dinner. Kids sports *gestures wildly * and before you know it, those greens are looking a little slimy, and you’re scared to excavate the cabbage, for fear of finding a quart of moldy blackberries mushed against, what is that? a Rutagbega?

The Sludge of Shame doesn’t happen overnight. It creeps up on us, and seeps into our psyche (and those impossible to clean crannies of the produce drawer). We are all susceptible, but we ADHD-ers have the deck stacked against us:

We overestimate our capacity.

We impulsively purchase.

And the term Out of Sight Out Of Mind is painfully true for our see-it-to-believe-it brains. If something gets shoved into a drawer, or put behind a closed cabinet, it might as well be sucked into a black hole.

“Catherine, we’re 5+ paragraphs in and you haven’t mentioned a word about this click-bait headline and how you’re going to help us.”

Right - I got distracted.

My produce drawer does not always look like this…obviously.

WE’RE GOING TO CLEAN THE DAMN PRODUCE DRAWER. EVERY WEEK.

That’s it. It’s a pain in the neck, but making it a non-negotiable habit truly changed my cooking and my stress/shame levels around food. And if I’m being honest, I didn’t start really doing this until 2025 (not 2016).

Those who can’t do, teach, right?

When I say clean, I mean it. We are removing the compartment from the fridge and putting it in the sink. We are Marie Kondo-ing that produce and dumping out EVERYTHING on the counter for sorting.

• We are filling the drawer with soapy hot water and giving it a scrub, and a rinse, and starting fresh.

• Anything that is truly gonzo (slimy, moldy, smelly) goes into the trash or compost. Take a second to feel bad about it, and then move on. Leaving it in the fridge is only going to hurt, not help.

• Anything that is on the way out gets prioritized. Berries get left in a bowl on the counter WHERE YOU CAN SEE THEM for snacking. Those carrots and beets that feel a tiny bit soft, we’re going to give them a glow up…

• Inspect hardier veg, and trim off any sad leaves, or wrinkly ends. Give them a rinse. Make them look appetizing. These are the starting point for any grocery shopping/meal planning you are doing for the week. Set them aside, or make a list, because when you are done with this drawer-cleaning chore — which takes 10-15 minutes — you are going to get yourself a little treat and…

• Settle in with cookbooks, or your phone, and do a little searching for tasty ways to use up this produce. Not to be harsh, but you need to do this while the Sludge of Shame is fresh in your mind. These veggies are on a deadline, and that bit of urgency should give you the dopamine hit necessary to get creative and make a loose plan for what you will do with them.

• Put everything that is fresh back in the drawer in a way that you can see it. Ideally, you wash your fruit and let it dry. Maybe you even chop up some vegetables so they are ready for cooking or snacking. The point is to make everything look as appealing and accessible as possible. I like to tuck things into bowls or jars sometimes to organize what’s there…and just to feel a little Martha Stewart about it. Fake it till you make it, you know?

It’s important to remember you will slip up. You’ll go away for a weekend (good for you!). You’ll get sick (I’m sorry). The important thing is you don’t give up. You must always face the Sludge of Shame. Open the drawer, beat it back, and start fresh.

I promise if you commit to this weekly, you will save money, feel less stressed about cooking, and feel more inspired to make something wonderful with that healthy produce you’ve got in that fridge.

We can do this! And once we’ve tackled produce, we’ll tackle the next organizational boogeyman, together.

Hugs,

-C

Here’s one of my favorite recipes to use some of that produce (particularly, the cranium-sized cabbage). Paid subscribers get access to the full archive of (ADHD-friendly) Smart Cooks recipes.