05 Jan 2024
Elena Hogg, founder of local culinary company FOOD by Elena, is clearing out her leftovers…
I am living proof that memes which go viral on social media are absolutely true.
Between Christmas and New Year I have lost all track of what day it is. I’ve been forwarded various funnies relating to this, my favourite of which was the multiple choice quiz where the possible answers to “What day is it?” were Monday, Tuesday, Saturday or 1982. The fact that there have been so many of these memes reassures me I’m not alone in my brain fog, at least.
My husband and I have been discussing our resolutions for the new year. I always think January 1st is a bit of a false start when it comes to turning over a new leaf. The festive period isn’t yet over, so family might still be visiting you or vice versa, schools haven’t started back yet, businesses are still closed and, all in all, it feels like a bad time to try reinventing oneself.
On top of that, for anyone thinking of an eating-related change, the fridge is quite likely still full of leftovers. Yes, there may well be some steamed long-stem in a Tupperware which would serve you mighty well, but they’re certainly right next to the cellophaned Manchego, the paté, or those chipolatas that didn’t get finished. It’s a fridge version of a minefield.
The store cupboard leftovers are no better: nibbles, nuts and crisps, the kind of fancy crackers you only buy at Christmas, mince pies, half-eaten boxes of Ferrero Rocher… the list goes on.
Starting a healthy-eating regime when surrounded by so much temptation is like asking a two-year-old to use a napkin instead of their clothes. It’s just not going to happen.
Waiting until routine begins again, and until you know what day of the week it is, makes more sense in my book. Or possibly it’s just my way of justifying procrastination…
Either way, it’s time to purge the fridge of its delectables in readiness for a new start.
You may have a cheeseboard graveyard in your fridge – that is, lots of small nuggets of different kinds of cheese, but nothing large or pretty enough to make it onto a future cheeseboard. These lost souls make fabulous quesadillas: choose any combination of your leftover cheeses and grate onto a tortilla wrap that
you’ve laid in a frying pan on a medium heat. Add olives, capers, sweetcorn, baby spinach or tomatoes – anything you have to hand. Sprinkle on a little more cheese so your top layer of tortilla wrap has some melty glue to stick to. Press down with a spatula and, once the bottom tortilla wrap is getting a little browned (you have to carefully lift it up to check), use your spatula to turn it over. Don’t be tempted to flip it like a pancake because bits of filling are liable to fly everywhere. I learnt this the hard way.
This year, we were saddled with a large quantity of leftover Brussels sprouts to take home with us after Christmas lunch. We’d drawn the short straw: my brother-in-law got the parsnips, which I just love drizzled in maple syrup and re-baked till half-chewy, half-crispy).
The sheer number of sprouts we were taking home with us would induce gas in a full-grown baboon, but I ventured a recipe all the same, turning a blind nose to the olfactory assault that would inevitably follow.
I decided to make a version of ‘pasta primavera’, which translates as ‘springtime pasta’ and sounds ridiculous right after Christmas, but with the inclusion of sprouts and some other Christmassy tidbits, was actually very wintery. And extremely simple to make, which is welcome after the Christmas culinary slog so many have faced.
Start with some onion or leeks and sweat them down slowly, unless your sprouts were cooked with them to begin with, in which case you don’t have to bother. Get your pasta on to boil and dice up your cooked sprouts. No need for precision: it’s nice for some to break down into a sort of pesto and some bits to remain chunky.
My leftover sprouts had been initially braised with chestnuts, so in they went too.
Chop up any other bits and bobs you have lurking – I added some peas and some free-range pork belly my meat-loving father-in-law had cooked in his air-fryer and packed for us to bring home. Whatever you have, throw it all in and heat through. For a flavour boost, you can add garlic, lemon, soy, miso, balsamic vinegar, mustard – anything goes.
Once your pasta is cooked, drain and toss with the sprouts mix. Season with lots of black pepper and loosen with more oil if it’s too dry. Decant into the bowl you find most comforting to eat from, meditatively grate over some parmesan, and feel time slow down for you to sit down and really enjoy every mouthful. You needn’t even feel guilty about having seconds, smug in the knowledge that doing so reduces food waste and declutters your bulging fridge. It’s basically the Marie Kondo of meals, invoking a kind of post-Christmas zen state – a necessary precursor to surviving the plunging realisation that there are still two kilos of turkey to use up and a year’s supply of cheese crackers. Deep breaths, everyone.
