In which Doris eats fishcakes (again)
There are few joys as truly joyous as leftovers.
That statement is almost always true but I’m here to give you the exception to the rule: fishcakes.
You see after you’ve eaten the leftovers for breakfast and then for dinner and then for breakfast again THEN, then you start to wish, you start to PRAY, that there would be nothing left over anymore.
That something may miraculously snack on them overnight and they won’t be there by morning. That perhaps I should not have made enough fishcakes to start a community kitchen in downtown Mullumbimby.
Alas there are still six left and I can’t even look at them. I fantasise about making them disappear… Then, like clockwork… What about the kids in Africa? What about the environment? What about the all the vegan kids that aren’t allowed fishcakes? You can’t waste them! Eat them for them! Wasting food is wrong.
If you’re not up to speed with feeling guilty about wasting food yet don’t worry because Sarah Wilson’s next cookbook is going to be about waste. She must finally be feeling bad about the millions of kilos of sugar people have chucked out in a low-blood sugar induced frenzy thanks to her. Nothing like buying a cookbook to cure the ails of capitalism.
Anyway, someone once told me recycling isn’t real anyway so I might just go pop the remaining six in the yellow bin and be done with it. Someone else once said it’s good to put stuff in the wrong bin too because then someone has the job to fish it out and put it the right spot. You know, jobs and growth.
Just kidding. Fishcakes for breakfast tomorrow Cal, three each and we can finally end this ordeal.
