The vegetable bin in the refrigerator now has at least ten pounds of navel oranges stuffed inside. Maybe we are opening a Jamba Juice?
Tonight I made leftovers for dinner. I opened those dozen containers sitting in the fridge and got creative. I made garlic fried rice with the leftover rice. Then I chopped up the container of cucumbers. B found some dumplings in the freezer as it turns out someone has been munching on the leftover cold Chinese chicken. And he steamed the two remaining buns filled with pork. I made a salad since we had a head of lettuce that was going to go bad. Of course, B’s father needed a special dressing as he won’t eat homemade vinaigrette.
I really should have whipped up a batch of my Grandfather George’s famous leftover dish. I confess I’ve only heard about it and never tasted it or attempted it. It seems fairly straightforward though. You get a big pot, open the fridge, and toss everything in and heat it up.
Of course the real nuance of the dish are the rules for eating it. If you believe my mother and her siblings, everyone got a bowl of it for dinner. If you didn’t eat your bowl, it went into the fridge and showed up as your breakfast, and so on. Apparently it was known to end up as dinner the next day before wills were tamed.
Meanwhile, to further my bad daughter-in-lawness, when they arrived they told us they would just take the shuttle to LAX. Then last night they asked where we would be on Friday afternoon. As in, you wouldn’t mind driving us to the airport that is an hour each way?
I told them B had to work, and I really didn’t feel like going for a two-hour drive. Sure, they got lucky and had clear roads when they came in this weekend despite Carmageddon. But do you really think after a weekend locked inside, Angelinos are going to have another stellar traffic weekend? I’m betting, not.