In my house there is no such thing as leftovers. No food will ever be placed into a plastic container and shoved into the back of the refrigerator to grow mold and then be thrown out, container and all, when one finds it and exclaims, “How long has this been in here?!” in dismay. No.
There are two reasons for this: One is that I ration food. Yes. I only cook one serving per person. And sometimes even less. For example, the Knorr/Lipton Noodle side dish packages claim to be only two servings. What? They easily feed four and I’ve been know to stretch them to five. Modest servings, to be sure, but then shouldn’t all things be in moderation? If there are three people eating, there may be one scoop left of noodles, but I assure you it is not a leftover. Why? Because of Reason Two. I have poultry. Any remaining food scraps are gathered together and given to the chickens and Mrs. Duck.
Mrs. Duck. She is the real reason for this observation. I understand that scientifically she is a duck, a Anas platyrhynchos domestica to be precise, but the plain truth is that she is a pig.
I must say that I had never observed the extent of her gluttonous behaviour until today. There were some canned ravioli my husband found unpalatable and some rice and a smidge of green beans. The chickens daintily pick at their food; Peck, Peck, wipe beak, so genteel…. But Mrs. Duck comes with a back up alarm and a shovel. Beep, Beep, Beep, Clunk, Shovelshovelshovelshovelshovel ! It is appalling! I actually had to
shepherd (no, she’s not a sheep), um, herd her away from the girls so they could partake of the delicacies.
It should have come as no surprise to me, her lack of manners and her uncouth ways. After all, who else leaves mud in the bottom of their water when they are done?
I thought not.