When I was growing up, my Dad made it clear that under no uncertain terms would he ever eat left-overs. Never ever.
For my Mom, this wasn’t exactly an issue because with five kids, there rarely were any leftovers. And, with five boys of my own, I have happily experienced the same – until my oldest went away to college. The boy, a fit-as-a-fiddle runner type, ate morning, noon and night. If he went out after dinner, he’d eat again when he got home. No leftovers. Ever.
Now that he’s away, I find the remnants of cooked meals accumulating in my refrigerator. I really don’t understand why. I still have four healthy, active boys roaming around here as well as my husband who, after twenty some years, has finally resigned himself to the fact that I am so not Martha Stewart but he loves me anyway.
Last night, after a long day hunched over my day-job laptop, I served up succulent BBQ country ribs with crisp, fresh salad and gummy, clumped together egg noodles.
Before pointing fingers, I’d like to say that I manned the crockpot with the diligence of the above-mentioned household diva. My son, however – the one I tasked with making the egg noodles after hearing him zing out a spot-on impersonation of Po’s “dad” in Kung Fu Panda, neglected to add butter to the cooked, strained noodles. Instead, he dumped them back into the water-less pot to congeal.
Leftovers of these, and there were plenty, I did not serve this evening.
Instead, we dined on the multitude of ribs, now a tad crispy and the remainder of a much-tolerated chicken and rice casserole dish that I had made on Saturday.
Why so many leftovers, you ask? Well, last night, our sit-down dinner was attended by only three of us – me, my youngest and my second oldest. My husband was at work, my second youngest lay in bed, feverish and congested and my middle son was at Boy Scouts.
Those of us who dutifully gathered for family meal time discussed the finer points of classic Looney tunes cartoons and wondered why the guy who plays Sheldon on the “Big Bang Theory” should run for president. Heavy stuff.
Even after serving up leftovers this evening, some still remain. Could it be we’re too busy talking to eat? Or, maybe since our attention is actually focused on our food and not the nightly news, we’re realizing that what I’m serving just isn’t as yummy as we may have thought.
I didn’t expect to be making such major breakthroughs this early in the year. Who knows? If I keep this up, I’ll have my own reality show by June…(heaven help me).
Tomorrow will be an intense day for us all. I will be away all day at the office for a face-to-face meeting. My husband is working tomorrow night. One son has an orthodontist appointment, one has choir rehearsal at school and I have choir practice at church.
Sounds like a perfect night to boil up the two bags of cheese ravioli that I have in the freezer. And I don’t care who makes it – as long as he doesn’t do impersonations. Never ever.