I LIVED IT: I Made Too Much for Dinner but Not Enough for Leftovers

I Lived it:

After several consecutive days of eating out, I decided I had to cook tonight. I chose a recipe from the New York Times cooking app, made my way to the grocery store, and thought, “Hell, I’ll double it!” because that’s the kind of boundary-pushing mood I was in. As I saw the ingredients mix in my crockpot, I realized I’d probably made enough food for the entire week – hell, maybe even the entire month. Play my cards right and I would never have to cook again. Imagine my surprise, then, when I finished my meal and found that not only did I make way too much for one dinner, but I also somehow did not make enough to have leftovers. 


What the fuck? How did I eat 8-10 servings by myself?


Originally, when I surveyed the amount of chili I’d made, I knew I’d made a mistake. It was clearly way too much for me to consume alone, so I figured it would be fine not to limit myself and just eat to the point of nausea. But when I looked up from my frenzy, I realized I had somehow consumed almost the entire pot. 


When did that happen?


According to the recipe, the amount of chili I cooked should have been able to serve 4-6 people for 2-3 days. Sure, I may have gone back for seconds and then half of what could be called “thirds”, but what happened to the remaining servings? Did I imagine them? Were they every really there to begin with? I was starting to fundamentally question my reality. 



I had gone from being worried I’d have too many leftovers to being baffled at not having any at all. According to my calculations, I’m now left with only five remaining bites, which is too much to eat right now, but an objectively stupid amount to save in the fridge. In fact, there’s barely enough food left over to cover the bottom of my leftover container, which means if I want to save it, I’m going to have to sacrifice 75% of the space in my fridge to fit the box. When will the horrors cease?


As I forced myself to finish the final bites then retired to my bed to sleep off the meal, I reflected. If anything, this experience has taught me that the world is a fundamentally evil, cruel place, and I should never cook again.