Love, thy name is leftovers

A good twenty minutes after eating a sambo made from Tuesday's meatloaf and I am still in a state of slightly dazed overjoyed-ness by how amazing it was. A huge chunk of, admittedly not-entirely-healthy, protein between two slices of toasted white batch bread slathered with a generous layer of dijon. I'd make the entire meatloaf again just for the sandwich.

Before:

During:

After:

I absolutely love leftovers; the perfect fast food/convenience food for people who aren't entirely fond of getting takeaways and hate things from packets. And absolutely spot on for providing a solution to lunch dilemmas. I remember someone asking me once what I was having for dinner and I said that I was going to have re-purposed bits from dinner the night before. She told me that she found that awfully depressing, which I thought was more than mildly hilarious coming from someone who had on a previous occasion fed me with grey-coloured soggy salmon from the freezer that was, em, 'cooked' in a plastic bag thingy in the microwave. Now THAT'S depressing.