Desperately seeking dinner
Posted
Sep 26 2007, 05:42 PM
by
Donna Freedman
Rating:
I had a Desperation Dish the other night. It saved me from going out to eat, which is why I recommend the practice. It also helped me clean out the fridge – another point in its favor.
The expression comes from the 1942 memoir "We Took to the Woods,” a delightful tale of living in the Maine backcountry. Author Louise Dickinson Rich described Desperation Dishes as "things we eat when we run out of food."
Rich and her family weren’t completely out of food, but rather down to things like dried beans and cornmeal. But they must have been desperate if they were excited by DDs like "Mock Tripe," made with fish skin and seasoned leftover oatmeal. Yum.
Waste not, want not
Most of us don’t run out of food, either. We just don’t want to eat what we have. We turn up our noses at that slice of last night’s meatloaf or the two-day-old pasta and sauce, and either go out for dinner or order something in. Each time we do, the leftovers in our fridges get a little more tired. Within a few days we can justify throwing them out because they’re "old."
I have a horror of wasting food, probably because both my parents were raised in straitened circumstances. The staple dish in Mom’s family was often biscuits and white gravy. Dad’s family survived mostly on "put-by" garden produce, fish and wild game. Growing up, I never saw a scrap of food thrown away.
The other night my main ingredient was about four ounces of chicken, the last remnant of a bird I roasted on Saturday. It looked mighty forlorn. "Maybe you should go out to eat," my mind whispered, "or at least run to the grocery store to buy something better. A freelance check is on the way. You can afford it."
But I knew if I did that, this chicken would never get eaten. (See "old," above.)
Alchemy with leftovers
I took it as a personal challenge, and started pulling things out of the fridge and freezer:
-- The tag-end of some Monterey jack. A little mold had developed, so I trimmed before grating.
-- Three 8-inch tortillas in a package dated "best by July 6." But I’d eaten a couple last week, with chili, and I knew that they tasted OK when warmed.
-- Barbecue sauce. I’ve got loads because it seems to go on sale for a buck whenever I have a dollar-off coupon.
-- A nearly empty bag of frozen soybeans.
-- Red grapes and the last of the canned peaches.
There was just enough chicken for one and a half barbecue-chicken quesadillas. Steamed soybeans with a touch of butter was a protein-rich side. The fruit made a sweet dessert.
It was no banquet, but it tasted pretty good – and I really do believe that enough is as good as a feast. More to the point, I felt good not wasting food, and not spending $8 or $9 on takeout.
No doubt some of you are horrified by "old" tortillas and cheese. Had it been uncooked meat, I would definitely have thrown it out; I once got as sick as a dog on some past-its-prime hamburger.
But old tortillas are fine, if sometimes a little tough, and heck, some people pay extra for cheese with mold on it.
Reality is just outside
From my kitchen window, I’ve watched a homeless guy pull food from the Dumpster. When I’ve asked him to please put the bag back, he bolts – still chewing. It’s a real-life example of "people are starving in (whatever country your parents used to name)."
Would that man turn up his nose at three-day-old chicken? Doubtful.
Would most of the hungry people in the world consider last night’s meatloaf unacceptable? The vegetarian ones, maybe.
Would my mother countenance throwing away food just because it didn’t appeal to me right off the bat? I pictured her in Heaven, shaking her now-celestial finger at me: You’re not going to waste that, are you?
No, I’m not. I think that Americans waste way too much food. Yes, it was only a few ounces of chicken. But people are starving in Darfur. And in Seattle.
