Left(overs) in the dark

Leftovers. Reruns, as I like to call them. They are the remnants of a meal that was. These are the forgotten soldiers that remain uneaten, doomed from the moment the meal is completed. Now that I am about to embark on cleaning out my fridge and freezer in preparation for Pesach, I feel that it's time to examine the plight of the lowly leftover. Today, I will attempt to shed some light on this often avoided, misunderstood and highly underrated food group.

The story is always the same. As the meal winds down and the diners begin to lean back on their chairs, rubbing their tummies in blissful satiation, the host and/or hostess peruses the food on the serving platters and suddenly realizes that a tactical error of miscalculation has been committed. Not all of the food has been eaten. A feable, final plea is issued, coercing and cajoling the already comatose partakers to have a little more, but to no avail. It quickly becomes clear that the inevitable is about to unfold.

With quiet nods indicating that the meal is indeed over, the platters are ceremonially lifted off of the table. The funerary march  is brief yet solemn. The food is somberly placed on the kitchen counter, one serving plate after another. Depending on the occasion and the number of diners and helpers, a wake of sorts springs forth. In a most macabre fashion, the meal now complete is jovially discussed whilst the leftovers sit forelornly on their platters, listening and lingering in utter jealousy and despair.

A party-like atmosphere is not always the case. Many times, there is only one person left in the kitchen to deal with the aftermath of the meal. The din of dining now becomes a quiet moment of reflection. Dirty dishes with scant remnants of the meal sit ready for washing. Those are happy plates, their emptiness signifying the smugness born of gustatory satisfaction. The eyes of the person in charge quickly move away from the dishes and flit from platter to platter, assessing the situation. An audible sigh is heard as the reality of the situation sinks in, and the big question is asked---do I have enough containers to hold all of this?

That question signals the next phase--packaging up the leftovers. Rarely is this task done with a smile. It's a chore, and the food is painfully aware of this. The physical torture that ensues is nothing less than heartbreaking. Vegetables that mere moments before were plated separately and artistically are now shoved and crammed together in a suffocating container that promises to lock in freshness. Lock-in indeed! Sauce is now mixed with meat. And sometimes, if there's enough room in the container, potatoes are tossed on top as an afterthought. It is utterly demeaning.

Finally, after all is tidied up, comes the step all leftovers dread--the move to the refrigerator...or even worse, the freezer. While the freezer is considered rerun food hell, the fridge is more of a type of purgatory, for the fridge is where food tends to get lost. Before the food is even aware of it, its container somehow begins to slip deep into the recesses of the fridge behind big bottles of ketchup, or newer, fresher food. By the time it resurfaces, it has become (sigh) inedible.

My friends, while the situation seems bleak, I'm here to tell you that it most certainly is not. Leftovers can live a vital life after retirement. Some foods re-used (like soup) remain perfect on their own. Paired with a fresh addition (salad and fresh bread), these foods are barely recognizable as leftovers. Other leftovers get a new life in exciting new ways. Challah becomes french toast. Boiled chicken becomes pot pie, or chicken salad or stir fry.....and the leftover brisket topped with leftover mashed potatoes becomes an awesome Shepherd's pie.

I admit that in the past, I looked at leftovers with disdain. I preferred to eat anything except that which I had eaten a day or two before. But people grow and change. I am now thrilled to report that I have been reborn. I have a whole new attitude toward reruns. I view leftovers as an opportunity.

Often, especially when I have a lot of people for dinner, I get preoccupied with the hosting, and don't concentrate on the food sitting on my plate. Leftovers give me the chance to enjoy the meal again, but this time quietly and in my own time. Not only do I not have to cook an entire meal again, but I can relive the dinner experience I had with every bite, sometimes months later when I unearth them from the bowels of my freezer. And all I have to do is reheat and enjoy! All the pots have already been washed. It's a beautiful thing.

There is one more great advantage to leftovers--sharing with others. I derive great satisfaction sharing leftovers with my newlywed daughter and her hubby. I'm stretching out a meal, stretching out the joy.

So dear friends, as you rummage through your freezer and unearth last month's dinner with the relatives, I urge you to raise the spirit of the rerun. Give it a new life, a new opportunity. Give leftovers a chance--today.