Leftovers and laziness are not exclusive

As a general rule, I hate leftovers.  Even the leftovers that are known to be better the next day, ie: lasagne or other pastas.  I would rather make it a few days beforehand and let it hang out in the fridge to glean the benefits of it’s leftover nature than eat the same item the next day.

*AWOOOOOOGAAAA!*  Tangent coming through:

Another dimension of my Fascist Food Manifesto is that I despise microwaves.  They shall be one of the first things sent of to the culinary gulag.  I’ve yet to pop an item in a microwave and have it come out how I want it. 

Defrost?  Most of us are familiar with the cooked halo which forms around chicken when one attempts to thaw in the microwave. 

Reheating?  Well, the plate gets screaming hot long before the food does (I have the scars to prove it).

General cooking: if you think a meal can be properly cooked in a microwave and be fit for human consumption, then I’m sorry.  Your ticket is being booked on the Gulag Express now.

Oh wait, this wasn’t a rant about microwaves (which, to conclude that tirade, I do not own one anymore.).  This is about leftovers.

When last we chatted, I had cranked out a vat of mashed potatoes with kale.  Despite the fact that I shoveled them down like a speed freak in a grave-filling contest, there was still a substantial amount left hanging out in the fridge.  Rather than force them into a date with the garburator I decided to suck up my leftover prejudices, and allow them to carry forward into another day.

My hubby is from Newfoundland, and often craves the hearty fare of home.  Since I seemed to be fresh out of seal-flipper, I decided cod cakes would be a suitable reincarnation for the spuds.

A quick trip to the new, sustainable fishmonger’s (The Daily Catch), and a slab of beautiful, wild-caught Pacific ling cod later, and I was skipping my merry way back home with memories of fiddle music, puffins and Screech hangovers dancing in my head.  

First off, a quick steam of the fillet (until just cooked through), and allow to cool.  Flake the cod into the spuds, and mix well.  Generally you would throw in a finely chopped onion, but since the onions I had on hand seemed to be a bit “off” (they shouldn’t resemble large prunes with psoriasis, right?), I opted for a generous smatterance of onion powder.

Salt and Pepper to taste (easy on the salt!  Remember: salt is more evident in hot foods than it is in cold.  Why?  I dunno.  Julia Child said it, and this humble foodie isn’t about to challenge her legacy)

Throw in an egg to help bind the mix.  I found that since I had kale in the potatoes and it seems to lend a lot of extra moisture, plus the moisture from the cod, I had to add a couple tablespoons of flour to the mix.  This way, the water has something to adhere to, and allows the egg a better chance of fulfilling its binding duties.

A quick roll in some panko breading, and they’re ready for a bronzing roll in a hot oiled skillet.  Allow to cook until deeply golden before flipping.  You may need to add more oil to the pan.  Let's face it, breaded potatoes just maaaaay absorb a bit.

Crispy on the outside, soft and fluffy inside. 

In the meanwhile I had pan seared some zucchini moons and generously seasoned them with salt and za’atar (BRILLIANT middle-Eastern spice blend!)

A simple salad of mixed greens dressed with balsamic, extra virgin olive oil and fresh-cracked pepper and this meal was ready to go.  

*Note: I did not eat the flowers

I allowed my trashy inner self to be indulged with a squirt of ketchup for the fishcakes, but I’m sure if I had’ve been feeling more civilized a spritz of lemon or homemade tartar would’ve sufficed, too.

Needless to say, it was a far cry from traditional Newfie cod-cakes (I mean, it was served with salad, for god’s sake!), but I got good reviews from my resident Newf, and at the end of the day I guess that’s all that matters.  Well, that and not poisoning us both.  That’s a plus, too.