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I really don’t like leftovers.  I don’t mind eating them so much, but I can’t stand seeing them build up in the fridge.  The sight of them produces a peculiar, specific anxiety in me…the idea of food going bad and having to be thrown away makes me feel all wrong inside.  Too many people are going hungry in this world, not to mention that I pride myself on buying really good ingredients and cooking them lovingly. 

Last evening, after working on The Tropical Thrill Cake (more on that in my next post), I presented my husband with a veritable smorgasbord of leftover choices for dinner.  I hadn’t had the time to cook after messing around with that cake.  There was lasagna, shepherd’s pie, and pork loin with a sauce of cranberries and apples.  I realized that all of it was really good food, hardly to be classified as ”leftover,” an inherently pejorative term.

My husband picked the pork loin (with brown butter noodles and green beans almondine), and I went for the shepherd’s pie.  Don’t misunderstand me, it wasn’t the first time I heated leftovers for dinner.  But last night, for some reason, I got over myself and decided I could feel good about leftovers.  Not only did it help clear out the fridge, but we genuinely enjoyed our respective dinners, like we would on any other night.

So to any other foodies out there who might be feeling like they’ve failed themselves or their loved ones when pressed to serve leftovers, just stop it!  I did, and it felt good.