I love making soup. Lots of it. The kind that freezes well, like pea and ham soup. I don’t consider this to be “leftovers”; rather, I see it more as preparing food for multiple meals and freezing it. I do it with soup, shepherd’s pie, the odd lasagna, etc. This is pre-planning. This is putting food by. This is making my life easier later, on purpose.
Leftovers, however, are a whole other story. I can’t stand leftovers. I don’t like eating dried up refrigerated pasta, or wilted salad, or day old steak. I deliberately cook so that there are absolutely no leftovers, which sometimes mean that I underestimate our appetites and we occasionally need a piece of “dessert” bread with jam or butter to feel satiated.
About a month ago, I looked in our fridge, and there was:
- a small container of leftover mashed potatoes
- a large container of leftover rice
- a half of a steak
- leftover chicken stir fry complete with (then) fresh chow mein
- some leftover vegetables
And so I threw them all into one pot, heated them in the oven, and called it leftover pie. It was, to be honest, disgusting.
Poor Ross tends to be the Leftover Cleaning Crew. Generally, he takes something leftover for his lunch every day. My natural inclination when it comes to food leftover at the end of a meal is to chuck it. Yes, I know, starving children in Africa yadda yadda yadda. But seriously? One serving of cooked anything, warmed up later in a plastic container – BLECH. I just can’t stand to eat it. It tastes wrong in my mouth, no matter how delicious it was the day before. Dried. Stale. Yuck.