My mom was a great cook. She cooked for a hungry husband, an even hungrier boy, a pudgy very healthy girl, and another skinny little unhealthy girl.  They were good, stick-to-your-ribs and thighs and butt meals.  Meals like this one I made tonight.

goulash
goulash

She never made things like this salad I made the other night.IMG_7957And she never would have used the “china” that I used for the salad.  She had two dishwashers:  Darla and me.  She could get all kinds of dishes dirty.

dirty dishes
dirty dishes

If it was my turn to wash, I diligently washed all those dirty dishes — just like you see above — and after rinsing a couple of plates, Darla had to go to the “bathroom.”  She would use the “bathroom” until the dishes were all clean and piled in her sink to rinse.  Only they never got rinsed — because Darla was in the “bathroom” — until Mom came in the kitchen and got all over me for not rinsing them since Darla had to go to the “bathroom.”  Of course, Dar only was finished using the “bathroom” after I got all the dishes washed and rinsed.

That’s probably why I use paper china quite often now.

But I digress.  The reason for this blog tonight is not to tell you how good a cook Mom was or how many dishes Dar bathroomed out of doing, but the fact that Mom could cook without leftovers.  She didn’t like leftovers, so she could cook for all these starving stomachs and have nothing left over and fill us full to bursting.

But even that wasn’t the greatest feat.  If we did on the rare occasion have food left over, she would get out the just-right container for them.  Never too big.  Never too small.

And now I have accomplished what I have heretofore been unable to do:  Get the just right container for the leftovers.

Here is the proof!

perfect fit
perfect fit

Ah, the leftover food fantasy has become remaining food reality!

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