I was interviewed recently for a local newspaper about the contents of my refrigerator…. I was interviewed recently for a local newspaper about the contents of my refrigerator.

Along with the leftovers, ice cream and box o’ wine, the interviewer noticed that I keep my nail polish in my fridge (in the butter compartment, to be exact).

I had to admit that I stole the trick — and it really does keep nail polish from going clumpy and gooey — from a TV show. A cooking show, no less.

However, the show from which I cribbed the technique is the domain of no ordinary TV chef. She’s not a chef at all, in fact.

My nail polish-in-the-fridge trick comes from author and former restaurant reviewer Nigella Lawson. If you get the E! or Style channels, you’ve probably seen her show before — they only show it about nine times a day.

A prolific writer, mother of two adorably demented looking children and all-around interesting person, the gorgeous British style maven cooks delicious, bad-for-you food with aplomb. She is also really, really good-looking: the Elizabeth Taylor-circa-1960 look — all nude lipstick and black eyeliner and porcelain skin — is entirely appropriate and flattering for her.

And I want to be just like her when I grow up.

Nigella has a way of making anything — even food meant to be eaten in front of the TV, for example, to which she devotes an entire half-hour’s worth of recipes — seem elegant, and more importantly, easy. The first weekend I lived with my roommate, Karen, in fact, I made us what I call “salmon and mushy peas a la Nigella.” It took 20 minutes from start to finish, and the clean-up was minimal — again with the “easy.” Since we don’t have a table to speak of, we ate it sitting on the couch with a glass of the aforementioned box o’ wine — while watching Nigella make the very thing we were having for dinner. It was all very meta.

What’s also admirable about Nigella is her ability to appreciate both the very high and the very low. Erudite and clever, both the most elegant meringue and the most declasse of sweets — the deep-fried Mounds bar, for example — are treated as equals: If it’s sweet, she calls it a “pudding.”

When I pull up the description of “Nigella Bites” on my digital cable box, the blurb says only, “Recipes and lifestyle advice are offered.”

The second part of that cryptic description is what’s truly important to me. “Nigella Bites” is less about cooking than it is about a way of living, to which I, in my miserably overworked state, dreamily aspire. Nigella herself says many, many times throughout the series, “What I’m after is maximum pleasure for minimum effort.”

To a senior in college like myself, maximum pleasure for minimum effort is 12 credits, all electives, with Mondays and Fridays off. Sadly, I need to take 18 credits this semester and next to graduate on time. So I’m just going to turn on channel 183, pour myself a glass of wine-in-a-box and dream.

Assistant A’E editor Clare Perretta sincerely hopes Nigella Lawson reads this and whisks her off for a weekend getaway to Las Vegas. Nigella, you can e-mail Clare at [email protected].