It’s the winter holiday season, which means a few things:
- If you’re still eating Thanksgiving leftovers, you should (probably? maybe?) throw out the remnants.
- Heartier cooking makes sense for those cooler nights.
- Overcooking is not as much of a choice as it is inevitable. Everyone will cook like central and Mediterranean European.
There are a few ways to store those leftovers. One method is throwing anything away, but that’s not recommended. You should thank your lucky stars you enjoyed such a meal. Although there are people afraid (petrified even and disgusted by the thought) of leftovers — trust me, there are (I dated one) — a couple or few days in the fridge isn’t going to change much of the makeup.
(I have a three-day rule, which effectively forces me to consume what’s available.)
There are those plastic containers: Use them. The leftovers, depending what said food is and the degree on the cooked scale, wrap the food up and send them to the freezer. Foil makes a great seal for containers without or missing a lid. And then there is plastic wrap.
Fucking plastic wrap.
Whether referred to as “cling wrap” or by formal trademarked name Saran wrap, the stretchable sheet of plastic made from polyvinyl chloride is often considered for preserving food. When using the material, it’s as quickly regretted.
Yes, it pulls out just fine. It clings to one side of the container well. After eyeballing the appropriate length and pressing it to the jagged saw, this is when hell breaks loose. Be sure to check your tetanus shot date if and when you slice your finger or hand or face — hey, some people love to use their teeth to tear or open things. The freed end over-dramatically floats up in the air and quickly falls into itself, as if its hands hold onto a freshly gutted stomach.
You then utter a “Dammit!” before you shut the box of wrap, which you toss to the side; you’ll be needing it again for a re-do. Then you fidget with the plastic pain in the ass, and the seal isn’t as tight as needed. Should you remove the piece completely — in that moment or the following day to eat those leftovers — the inanimate object proves utterly useless the second time around. But it is necessary to try to reapply the wrap, because who likes to waste such things?
And then it fucking tears. It’s not a huge tear, but a tiny one. And the small opening is an issue to be projected as the beginning of the end of the world.
In every other circumstance, especially when situations pertain to pranking others, plastic wrap exceeds expectations:
- Wrapping up a coworker’s office materials when they are on vacation.
- Useful when combating the two bumbling criminals trying to break into your home — on Christmas Eve of all days.
- When placing the wrap over the toilet bowl for someone to pee on.
Plus the boxes of the name brand and off-brand wraps contain the word premium. This buzz word is often used by companies wanting to dupe consumers. They think they’re buying something of quality, but the end result is always the same as it’s always been. You can stick a fork into a socket as many times as preferred, but the outcome is always shocking — to say the least and in more ways than one.
Doing the same thing and expecting a different result — madness.
To put in beer terms: All the low-quality domestics and “fancy” imported varieties more often than not contain the word premium on their labels. Yeah, you know what those taste like.
This isn’t a plea to revolt against the Dow Chemical Company, nor should this prevent you from buying plastic wrap. There are more effective and compact ways to sustain the life of food.
We need to be cognizant. We need to make leftovers great again.
Happy winter eating and holiday overconsumption, everyone.
I play with words and invisible objects.
A mind, a pen and a piece paper have the best relationship ever.
"Remember this--if you shut your mouth, you have your choice."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald