When mom died I took a year to clear out the house. She had stocked up on noodles and soup and I ate many meals lifted from Mom's larder. Getting rid of all her open food, personal effects, furniture wasn't difficult because I had an all the tine I wanted to do it.
I had to clean out Dave's house in a week, though. I had to review every piece of paper, every file, plus root through the car trunk and closet shelves to find bills he tossed there unopened. For a while I was laboring under the mistaken belief that some things would be donated and some would be tossed, so I separated the wheat from the chaff, until I found it was all chaff.
The AA folks came in and took all just chaff they wanted, and then all that was left was the food.
Ten unopened containers went to a food kitchen. The rest couldn't go in the trash, because the bin was already full. Couldn't go in a bag outside of the bin because of raccoons. No, everything had to go in the sink and down the garbage disposer. Frozen food? Thawed overnight and down the diposer. Pasta? I was tempted to cook it first but it happily went through the disposer raw. I learned to hold my breath as the spices went down the disposer. Medical marijuana? Also, to my friends' dismay, down the disposer. (Good thing, because the TSA searched my bag. All they found was a bag of remains. I checked first: you can transport cremated remains in luggage.)
It felt wicked to throw out perfectly good food. I suppose I should have had a buffet for the AA folks, but it would have been a weird combo of protein shakes, shaved turkey, Propel, and green sauce. Instead, that disposer ran for five straight hours.
Must remember to eat everything in my house when my death is imminent.