‘Less Chance Than Plaiting Snot’: Woman Admits She Saves Leftovers She Has No Intention of Eating
Grandchildren are often said to be the reward for growing old, and the home we build is meant to be a sanctuary of nourishment and love. We spend decades learning the art of the kitchen, believing that feeding our family is the ultimate expression of care.
But for some, this joy is being held hostage by a modern world that seems to value disposability over devotion. It is a quiet, gnawing heartbreak to feel that your habits—born of love and necessity—are seen as “obsessions” or “foibles.”
We are watching the values we were raised with be discarded, quite literally, into the bin.
The Incident
The story comes to us from a woman named Anne58, who shared a confession that resonates with a profound sense of isolation. She describes a “little foible” that has become a source of internal turmoil.
After cooking a lovely meal of pork steaks with caramelized onions in a wholegrain mustard sauce, she was left with a single steak and a small amount of sauce. It wasn’t enough for a full meal, but it was too much to simply destroy.
Anne58 admits she couldn’t bear to throw it away. “Did I put it in the bin? No, I put it in a small dish, which I then put in the fridge,” she confesses. She describes the sensory details of her hesitation—toying with the idea of binning it, checking that it “still looked ok,” and ultimately saving it alongside a tiny amount of leftover rice and sweetcorn.
The heartbreak lies in her reasoning. She admits she will likely throw it away tomorrow when it is “definitely past its best.” She is trapping herself in a cycle of guilt, saving food she knows won’t be eaten just to delay the pain of wasting it.
She describes the feeling as “totally irrational,” noting that there is “less chance of them getting eaten than there is of plaiting snot.” Yet, she hopes against hope that her husband (“dh”) might find a way to incorporate it into his lunch.
It is a lonely image: a woman guarding a small dish of cold pork, fighting a silent battle against a wasteful world, asking, “It is only me, isn’t it?”
The Community Weighs In
The response from the community was a warm embrace, proving that this “secret shame” is actually a shared burden among women of our generation. The reactions fell into three distinct camps, revealing the deep emotional ties we have to food and family.
The War Babies
The most sympathetic supporters validated Anne58’s pain by rooting it in history. User Zephrine offered a compassionate reality check: “I think it’s a generation thing. If you were born just after the war when food had been so scarce you didn’t throw anything away.”
These women remember when a marrow bone made stock and milk curds became cheese. They assured Anne58 that her “obsession” was actually a virtue, a scar from a time when survival depended on thrift.
Annobel shared touching memories of her mother making “rissoles or sandwiches” from Sunday roasts, reminding us that this behavior is born of respect, not madness.
The Tactical Strategists
Others offered practical strategies to combat the waste, refusing to let the food—or the grandmother’s efforts—die in vain. Greenmossgiel, signing off as the “Fanny Fridge-Stuffer of Fife,” proudly declared, “I waste absolutely nothing at all!”
This camp urged Anne58 to freeze everything in little boxes or turn it into “fridge soup” or “bubble and squeak.” Baggy even mentioned recycling food through chickens to get eggs. These women refused to accept defeat, suggesting that if the family won’t eat it, we must find a way to repurpose the love we put into cooking.
The Hard Truths About Ungrateful Eaters
Finally, a camp emerged that highlighted the true “villains” in this dynamic: the picky family members who refuse to honor these efforts. While Anne58 hoped her husband would eat the leftovers, others were not so lucky.
Yogagran shared her frustration with a husband who “will not eat anything that is ‘left over'” and acts as if food “will go off at midnight.” She also touched on the pain of modern parenting, noting how it “gets her goat” to throw away food from children’s plates because they are given far too much.
This camp validated the anger we feel when our hard work is treated with disdain by those we feed.
The Verdict
My dear friends, let us be clear: wanting to save food is not a “foible.” It is a badge of honor. It shows that you respect the resources of this earth and the labor it took to put that meal on the table. The heartbreak here isn’t really about a pork steak; it’s about feeling that your wisdom is no longer welcome in your own home.
Do not let picky husbands or a wasteful society gaslight you into thinking you are irrational. You are the keepers of the hearth. However, do not martyr yourself by filling the fridge with guilt. If they won’t eat it, freeze it for yourself. You deserve the good food, even if they don’t appreciate it.
What Do You Think?
Is it irrational to save small scraps of food, or is it a sign of respect that the younger generation has lost? How do you handle it when your family refuses to eat leftovers?
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