Growing up, my parents would try to deter me from wasting food by pointing out that there are people in far corners of the world who were starving. They thought it would guilt me into finishing my chicken nuggets; instead I would suggest mailing my leftovers to the nameless hungry persons so they could enjoy my discarded chicken nuggets. While my five-year-old logic was flawed (two chicken nuggets certainly would not travel well), my parents did manage to hammer home the idea that wasting food is less than ideal.
Now as an adult, I’m not tucking bits of breaded chicken into envelopes addressed to Hungary, (I’m sure my parents got a laugh out of that) just into tupperware to be brought to work the next day. Or if I’m making something that I know will have an excessive amount of leftovers (but can’t properly reduce the recipe) I’ll ring up a few friends and drop parcels of food off at their house or push muffins on my coworkers.
After whipping up some Italian food the other night I found myself with some extra cheese and pesto in the fridge, along with some tomato slices from my salad. Instead of tossing out the few ingredients, I popped into the store to pick up a baguette and made myself a little leftover sandwich that could probably be found on a bistro cafe’s menu.