|You don't have to eat leftovers like this|
(but you can, if you want)
Eat leftovers in candlelight, in the container, microwaved, creatively remixed.
Eat leftovers until you are full, until you remember that the pie will still be there tomorrow (or at least again next year), until you're done.
Eat leftovers even though you ate past comfort yesterday, because that was yesterday and today your body still needs fuel and you still deserve to find pleasure in nourishment.
Eat leftovers if you're lucky enough to have them, if you enjoy them, if you choose to.
Eat leftovers that have been properly refrigerated because food-borne illness will ruin your weekend.
Eat leftovers the way you eat everything else: for nutrition and with joy, because it's there and because you love it, slowly and mindfully if you have the time, with compassion and care and quickly if you don't. Eat until you have accomplished the goal that is your reason for eating: until you are no longer hungry, until you have sopped up that last bit of soup, until you're ready to go out and dance (or shop, or parent, or work, or walk the dog), until you can taste grandfather's pie and political rants and feel grandmother's gnarled hand holding yours.
Food is culture, food is care, food is calories, food is nutrition and nourishment, food is memory and family. And today, leftovers are food with all the work done yesterday. So eat leftovers without guilt or shame, in pleasure and compassion.
Picture by semarr, Creative Commons licensed.