Maybe I’m an old man, but I caught myself thinking deeply about leftovers today. I remember my mom always pushing leftovers on us kids and the strange joy she would get when we obliged the meal. I can totally understand that now.

I’ve eaten more than my fair share of Taco Bell and Arby’s. I am not ashamed to concede that I need a regular Mexican Pizza or Mozzarella Sticks fix from these fine vendors. But it is enormously satisfying to be able to cook a good, large meal and pack containers of leftovers in to the fridge. It’s just good sense- money well spent on home cooked food and another meal in waiting to boot.

But if there’s one thing more pleasurable than packing up a refrigerator with delicious leftovers, it’s the immense satisfaction I get when I actually eat that food and get to throw the empty leftover containers into the sink. I don’t know what it is. It’s like a beautiful virtuous cycle of culinary habits. And if that makes me an old man then I will wear that badge with pride while I continue deciding on what window shades to buy.

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