Leftover Blues

There were two things in our house that I used to always be able to count on as mine: leftovers and dark chocolate. No one else liked either, while I love both. Every time we got a box of mixed chocolates — from Rheb's, of course, because there is no other reasonably priced chocolate in the area worth eating — the other five folks in the house would split the milk chocolate pieces, while the dark chocolate was mine, all mine. Great deal for one of us.

Ditto the cup of mashed potatoes, half portion of pasta with two meatballs, grilled but uneaten cheeseburger: I could put leftovers in the fridge after dinner and know what I was having for lunch the next day.

No longer.

It started with the chocolate: a month ago a friend sent me individually wrapped dark chocolates in four flavors from 1-800-FLOWERS. (Very good chocolate, by the way.) The boxes — each flavor, plain, raspberry, orange and espresso comes in its own, nicely deigned box — were on a shelf in my office, and when the kids came home from school and came downstairs to visit me in my office (which they do every day) they noticed them.

"What's that? Can I try one?" I gave them each a piece of the dark chocolate, thinking each would make a face and spit it out. I was so wrong. They all loved it so now, every day, they come into my office for an after school piece. My stash is dwindling rapidly.

Then, all four of them decided that reheated mashed potatoes, pasta or other leftover goodness make a great breakfast. Even hiding a particularly prized dab of something in the back of the fridge doesn't work. They find it, they eat it, and my leftover lunches are now just a memory.

The only thing none of them will eat are very spicy foods. So now, when I pack up the leftovers, I keep the bottle of hot sauce handy and add a couple of shakes. It's working for now, but I suspect it won't last long.