I’m still using things up but I’ve been hit by my innate stubbornness at being told that I must/am not allowed to do something. As a child of about 3, my mother famously told me not to touch the electric ring of the stove because it was off but still hot. Apparently my response was, “I’m going to touch it” and then I got burned (not badly, no lasting damage) and cried and didn’t learn my lesson. I know this because I want to cook: I have a billion things I want to make and I can’t make any of it (some of it) because I have stuff to use up. Instead of using the stuff up and having fun, I’ve glowered at it through a two-day migraine.
All sorts of things could be done with what I have to use up, but the constant substitutions sometimes make me feel at risk of becoming a bit like Letitia Cropley from The Vicar of Dibley: although I do try to avoid the random inclusion of sprouts and Marmite.
I cooked up the whole packet of bacon tonight since that had become critical: it was use it or bin it time. I’ve set aside what I didn’t use and will incorporate that into bubble and squeak or something later. For tonight, though, the humble cheese and bacon toastie will do. The only reason you got to see a picture of it was because the inside needed to cool down before I ate it.
If my Caramelised Red Onion Chutney had been ready, I’d have stuck some of that in there, but I’ll have to be patient. I have at least taken a kilo of onions off the list of things to use up, which I’m pleased about.