Little and broken

This is my family. I found it, all on my own. Is little, and broken, but still good.
                                                                             – Stitch, from Lilo and Stitch

These days I find it useful to pick something insignificant and obsess about it.   (You could argue that this whole blog is an example of that.)   Here at Half-Size Headquarters, the refrigerator seems to be a haven for dribs and drabs of leftover vegetables.  As I am sizing up the lunch options, I find myself wondering:  three stalks of asparagus?  Are we really saving three stalks of asparagus?  Five Brussels sprouts?  A spoonful of sauteed mushrooms?  The last artichoke heart in a jar?  Is there something wrong with us that we can't seem to finish off a dish of vegetables??

Actually, there's nothing wrong with saving these things.  Leftover vegetables, right out of the fridge, are delicious.  I often don't even bother to reheat them.  Lately, however, we seem plagued with leftovers, probably because we're eating all our meals at home.  At some point, even I grow weary of those same green beans for the third time.  

Then one day I had a brainwave, got out a tiny frying pan, chopped up some leftover veggies, and made a wee frittata, just for me.  It was delicious!  It turned some rather uninspiring leftovers into a hot meal for one.  I ate it right out of the pan, which for some reason is also fun to do.

I've tried this several times since, with various vegetable combinations; it tastes great every time.   It's simply a matter of assembling some cooked veggies and a grating a little cheese that seems compatible.   I've also added meat to this concoction: it's not necessary, but the odd bacon crumble, chopped ham, or even shredded Thai chicken seems to go very nicely. I've noticed that many vegetables, when re-cooked this way, lose a bit of their original flavor.  I lean toward augmenting with a little onion, garlic, green chili, or red pepper flakes; your tastes might run more toward lemon zest or dried thyme.  A sprinkling of fresh herbs, should you happen to have some languishing in your fridge, would also work well.   Follow your heart – and your taste buds.

This is not so much as recipe as an general idea, a theme subject to the variation of what you may have on hand.  The only thing you might not have on hand, and which you really need, is a very small oven-proof frying pan.  I have a 6-inch cast-iron frying pan from Lodge that works perfectly for this.  

The quotation, by the way, is not a reference to the meal, but to the eggs.  You can't make a frittata without breaking eggs.