Leftovers. It’s a bit of a catch-all word. At its worst it refers to those fridge lurkers you always meant to turn into a tasty dish and then forgot about: bits of meat blanketed under congealed fat; a bowl of gravy so ancient its top has cracked like parched mud; a heel of bread so hard you could brain a burglar with it.

At its best it’s the beginning of a new and delicious meal, one where you can smugly congratulate yourself on your thrift and ingenuity Continue reading →