I was helping my mother-in-law Wilma clean up after Thanksgiving. My job was to put leftovers in Tupperware. She tutted me and said,
"When I was a girl we were taught to never waste food. The nuns called it 'Feeding the Devil.' And look at this, look at all the food you've left in this pan."
True, I had left the burnt edge of cream of mushroom soup that had adhered itself to the green bean casserole corningware. And Wilma did scrape off a tablespoon of it and added it to the easily-spooned up leftovers. And that is admirable. However, I now have a new term.
On throwing the burnt edge of pie crust into the sink: "I am feeding the devil some pie crust."
On consuming a Christmas box of Williams-Sonoma Salted Chocolate Covered Caramels now that Gary has been told he brings too many gifts, "We don't want to feed this good candy to the devil."
We don't stop at feeding the devil. We did not shop carefully and bought the devil a pair of knee socks. We have considered buying a Kinect though it would be just giving our Wii to the devil.
I thought of this today after I cooked a 4.5 pound short rib roast, which Gary spat out because it was too rich for him. So, fine. Good enough for me and the devil.