That week, I took the rice and chicken for lunch. Unfortunately, even after 5 days of eating the rice, I still had ¾ pot of the rice sludge left. Not wanting to be wasteful, I froze the rice, hoping that frying the rice after defrosting would burn off some of the excess moisture. It did, but the rice was still a mushy mess.
Last Monday and Tuesday, I ate the rice with some broiled chicken, salsa and pita for lunch. By the time I finished half the rice I brought on Tuesday, I made up mind - - I’m throwing away the remaining rice. It’s texturally too disgusting to eat.
As I tossed the rice away, I was relieved of not having to eat the sludge anymore. But at the same time, I felt guilty.
I remembered the following passage from a recent MSN Money-Smart Spending article:
"The most vivid memory I have of food is that there was never enough. ... I remember one dinner where my mother, myself and my brothers and sister sat down to a meal. The meal consisted of three boiled potatoes and one slice of white bread which we divided up amongst us. I noticed my mother was not eating and I asked her why she was not eating. She answered that she was on a diet." -- Laura C. Rinfret
Another post by Trent Hamm from the Simple Dollar described how he witnessed a 6-year old boy eating rotten french fries out of a dumpster.
After whining in my last post about how I want to spend discretionary money from my now-extinguished car payments, I'm kind of ashamed and embarrassed about my petulance. (But this doesn't mean that I still won't whine!)
The fact that I have the ability to throw away food that is still edible (if not enjoyable), is truly a luxury. As bad as things may seem right now, I always need to remember that I’m truly fortunate that I don’t know what true hunger is. Hopefully, I never will.