Leftovers and Trash
Leftovers and trash. That's what the day after Christmas is all about. Leftover seafood, leftover meat, leftover sweets. How many recipes for leftover food can there be? It doesn't matter that you try to buy so that you finish the food in one sitting. There will always be moments of, "Well, everybody loves this dish, so of this I had better buy a little extra for seconds." Those seconds turn into thirds that leave something else uneaten. And, of course, after gobbling down three dishes of seafood, and one enormous dish of meat, the sweets are ignored. So you nibble on them whenever you visit the pantry. Which is often. The day after Christmas you look at the exultant refrigerator, you look at the pants that shrank, you look at your thinned wallet, you think of all those in the world who are starving, and you swear that next year you will buy less. And next year comes and you do the same thing all over again.
Trash is another story. I remember the trash day after Christmas in Boston. In front of almost every house there were piles of bags with wrapping paper and boxes that had held toys or other presents. Here, you won't find those piles. We have to take our trash to a container; garbage trucks don't do house by house collection. The garbage containers after Christmas now contain more remnants of present-giving than they used to. Gifts used to be given only at Epiphany, mimicking the Magi and their three gifts. Now, Santa has worked his way into many houses. You can tell when you lift the lid on the garbage container. But when you know there are just three small children in the neighborhood, you wonder why there are about twenty discarded boxes that new born dolls, radio-controlled Formula 1 cars, Star Wars light sabers, Barbie touring cars, etc., came in. The crisis is over; someone got a good job.
That was just this week. Next week begins the round of leftovers again at New Year's. And the week after another round of trash after Epiphany. And after that, dieting and austerity.
Trash is another story. I remember the trash day after Christmas in Boston. In front of almost every house there were piles of bags with wrapping paper and boxes that had held toys or other presents. Here, you won't find those piles. We have to take our trash to a container; garbage trucks don't do house by house collection. The garbage containers after Christmas now contain more remnants of present-giving than they used to. Gifts used to be given only at Epiphany, mimicking the Magi and their three gifts. Now, Santa has worked his way into many houses. You can tell when you lift the lid on the garbage container. But when you know there are just three small children in the neighborhood, you wonder why there are about twenty discarded boxes that new born dolls, radio-controlled Formula 1 cars, Star Wars light sabers, Barbie touring cars, etc., came in. The crisis is over; someone got a good job.
That was just this week. Next week begins the round of leftovers again at New Year's. And the week after another round of trash after Epiphany. And after that, dieting and austerity.
When I worked at DCU they gave us turkeys at Christmas. Sixteen pounds is a lot for two people. We still had leftovers in March. Ever have turkey tacos??? They are only for the desperate.
ReplyDeleteAt the first company my father worked (16 years!) they would give him an enormous turkey every Thanksgiving and another every Christmas. We were only three in our family. I can totally relate!
ReplyDelete