[Photo by Jose Diaz]
Honestly, I’d love to say, “Leftovers, YUM!”
Alas, I can’t. I’m a finickie foodie… after all.
Here’s the deal, just give me a small portion and I’m a happy camper.
If I don’t finish a meal in a restaurant, I’ve decided – right-here-and-now – I don’t want to take it home in styrofoam, or any other container, even if it’s “green” friendly.
Nothing, a-b-s-o-l-u-t-e-l-y nothing, tastes as good as it does when it’s just been prepared.
To prove that point, it took my husband about 20 years to figure out I’m a pretty good cook with just my normal stir frying. That’s because when we were raising the girls, he’s come home from work at night about 8:00 p.m. By then, his food had slipped from just prepared to “leftovers,” simply by waiting for him for three hours. I fed the girls early and they were already off to bed, with school the next day.
Now that we both work out of the house, he’s getting to taste my cooking right after I prepared it; however, these days that’s slim, because I cooked myself into a corner as a stay at home mom, and I can’t now work a 12 hour day then get jazzed to stand behind a stove… Priorities have been reset.
When I do cook, though, he’s got his knife and fork at the ready… I also try to portion it out so there’s nothing left over… What’s to love in left overs?