Bits and pieces of previous meals litter the fridge, vague reminders of glorious meals, now bobbing like flotsam in a Tupperware sea. Like a moon inspired tide I gather these bits back to shore and contemplate their existence. Should they be tossed back into the fridge to mutate into some green furry toxin? An unrecognizable mass of organic matter striving to achieve consiousness is the dark or…
Shall we repurpose these treasured remains and repurpose them into a new and exciting dish? Lentils, goulash and rice from three different meals. The rice is still good, and has not begun its sour path to Saki, so it still contains the ability to form the foundation of a pilaff, goulash to the right of me, lentils to the left, a dish that could inspire Kipling is formed before my eyes. The mix and match pilaff.
A forkful from the right and a tomato sweetened potato passes my lips, a moment later a fork approaches from the left with the tangy flavour of lentils, hours from their best before date. Back and forth as if I have a fork in each hand reaching through time into yesterdays seasoning. Dinner becomes that flashback episode of your favourite TV show. Lacking in creativity, but enjoyable for the memories it elisits.
Leftovers are not an item to be shunned, but an opportunity to be inventive and creative when supplies are low.