The Big Chill

Hand in hand with the arrival in Britain of supersize containers of food and drink has come ... the Big American Fridge. Last year, John Lewis alone sold £2m of them.

As these gargantuan cold-storage systems barge their way into kitchens across the country it seems a good moment to ask: have they come as a result of our expanded eating habits? Or do they play a more active part in affecting the amount we eat, encouraging us to crave and consume more?

Harvey Levenstein, author of Paradox of Plenty: a social history of eating in modern America, is one of the experts who has been investigating consumption trends in the United States where the big fridge originates. He sees its popularity more as a response to our demands for more food and bigger portions: "The size of containers is so much larger now, especially soft drinks, which are bought in 2-litre bottles and need to be chilled. They take up a lot of room."

Historically, the big fridge came into its own with the growth of suburbia in the 50s and 60s, when people stopped walking to their local shops and took the car for the big weekly supermarket trip. Trolley loads of shopping then had to be accommodated and chilled, so a big fridge became a necessity. That, of course, is American suburbia, where family homes have plenty of space, and intense summer heat creates constant demand for chilled water and crushed ice.

But the big fridge trend has clearly caught on now in Britain. Sales are 10% up, year on year, according to Richard Binns, head of electrical goods and fitted kitchens at John Lewis. At Bristol-based Bradshaw Appliances - an early distributor in Britain of the large Amana fridge range - group marketing director Russell Isaac says that sales of US double-door fridges accounted last year for 8% of the growth in the UK cooling business.

Who are the buyers? Binns says these fridges are being bought by young families, as well as affluent professionals who want to make a statement. "Families with small children get through a lot of food," Binns says. "Plus there is a general move towards fresh foods and fruit: whereas you might have had a fruit bowl on the table, now people keep it in the fridge."

Giant fridges are not particularly efficient, Binns admits, costing about twice as much to run as a normal European-sized fridge. But the desire for a big fridge has little to do with economy. There is also the style aspect," he acknowledges. "It's quite an imposing bit of kit to have around the kitchen."

At John Lewis, a row of colossal so-called "side-by-side" American fridge-freezers with double doors look down on their slimmer, cheaper European cousins. An Amana built-in fridge freezer will fit snugly in a bespoke cabinet. They come with mirrored, or wood, panels, but most are smart industrial brushed stainless steel; all have ice and chilled water dispensers on one door. Top of the range, tipped as the world's best fridge-freezer, is the Amana Sub-Zero 695, the size of a small room but said to be remarkably energy efficient, retailing at a shiver-inducing £8,000. "These fridges are absolutely magnificent," says an enthusiastic sales assistant.

Another American expert, Leon Rappoport, author of How We Eat, says: "The really large 'trophy fridge' is a status symbol. It stands out like a Mercedes or BMW as a conspicuous proclamation of domestic success and prosperity. In some households, it is a conversation piece for people to stand around and admire."

Rappoport believes the Big American Fridge is actively influencing the quantities and manner in which we consume, encouraging grazing, and in the process contributing to the decline of the family meal: "When it is well stocked, as it usually is, the monster fridge encourages eating on impulse, because there are so many items to choose from. In families, individuals often adopt patterns of foraging in the fridge because they are on different schedules, have different preferences, and the monster fridge becomes a kind of smorgasbord site."

One pictures the Soprano household in New Jersey, where the first thing anybody does on coming home is open the fridge, looking for comfort in Carmela's home cooking. Rappoport sees the big American fridge itself representing comfort, revealing an endless supply of food. "There is a deep psychological factor: the well-stocked big fridge provides reassurance against food anxieties that almost everyone experiences, ie, having enough to eat when you want to eat. We know that many people take refuge from daily life anxieties by indulging in their favourite comfort foods, or special treats that can be stockpiled in a big fridge."

The giant fridge also demonstrates the cutting edge in food storage technology. A Maytag at £2,499 has electronic humidity control for each of the separate fruit and vegetable drawers. Beans and strawberries, apparently, require different levels of humidity. In the more expensive models this can be adjusted electronically. It also has a handy winder on one middle shelf, so you can raise it to accommodate that awkward bottle of wine within your 26 cubic feet of refrigerated space.

Does our food actually require this level of sensitivity to keep fresh? Not according to chef Tom Norrington-Davies, who is working on a book about the larder. "We refrigerate stuff we shouldn't: potatoes and tomatoes will be tasteless because we haven't given them a chance; cheese is not much fun straight from the fridge; fruit and veg don't like being kept in the chiller. We know that air conditioning makes us feel bad, but we're quite happy to imprison our produce in that environment."

In replacing the daily shop for fresh food with a big cold store for ready-made meals, Norrington-Davies believes the big American fridge has done us a disservice. He admits, however, that chefs have a tendency to resist modern contraptions: "There is something of the Luddite in most cooks, a puritanical streak. Anything that makes our lives easier, it's guaranteed for the chef to despise them. But ice any time you want, in our climate? I mean, honestly, you wonder who hasn't got time to fill an ice tray."

Besides offering us convenience that we didn't know we needed, and will probably never use (how many non-cooking affluent professionals or families with young children do you know who, after their supermarket trip, separate fruit and vegetables according to their optimum humidity level?) the big American fridge demands to be kept full of food. A friend who bought one found he felt obliged to fill it. "A fridge that size looks pretty sad when it's only got a few things on the shelves. When I first got it, actually, I put on a lot of weight: with that much food in the fridge I was constantly helping myself."

Levenstein, however, has a theory that higher food consumption will not necessarily be the inevitable result of our new love for the big fridge: "I think the whole size thing is peaking. One of the characteristics of food habits is that attitudes go from the top down, and the upper classes have a horror of fat." Indeed, there do seem to be wealthy owners who do not buy their enormous fridge to fill it with food.

Because, paradoxically, it seems that many well-off buyers of these huge, expensive fridges may not tend to cook much. Or even eat at home: if you can afford an Amana, you are quite likely to be dining out a lot.

London estate agent Sarah Shelley agrees. "A lot of people have these kitchens just for show," she says. A kitchen with the latest big American fridge can add a great deal to the value of a house. "It's hugely important now in selling a property. When you come to sell these flats, if they've got an American fridge, one's eyes light up."

Shelley's own pride and joy is an Amana for which she paid £3,500. What does she keep in it? "Masses of bottles of water, and of course the odd bottle of champagne and white wine; I've got Romaine lettuces, potatoes and onions. Because people don't have larders any more, you need a really big fridge to keep everything chilled. My friends have got a fabulous Maytag which has one bit that opens even wider, so you can get a big salmon in it."

Shelley's fridge currently sits in her garage, as it won't fit up the stairs, and will have to be winched into the kitchen. Unfazed by such practical hitches, she has ordered an enormous cooker from an industrial caterer - five burners, two ovens, grill and warming drawer.

And does she actually cook?

"Not very often, but I want to be able to."