I’m going to discuss leftovers. My first cookbook (Encore: The Leftovers Cookbook, Key Porter Books, 1979) was, obviously, about leftovers. I think I’m hard-wired : wasting food is anathema to me. that means I will not do it. Also, frugality is in my genes: Icelandic. Icelanders could not afford to waste food. For centuries, famine was never far away. I have work to do today but I’ll be back, with a recipe. Nothing viral of course. No one cares about leftovers - not much - not yet. But ecologically speaking, their day has come.

Long day, worked hard, no time, second game of the Series on now. Tomorrow: Stratford. Which reminds me: I haven't reported on Julius Caesar yet. So I’ll do a two-fer. Tomorrow is another day. So is the day after.

Quick lo-cal pizza, using leftovers: One or two tortillas, or a Naan. You decide the size. find stuff in your fridge: some green and/or red pepper, diced, red oion (or white), celery, any leftover cooked veg (green beans, snow peas, etc.), bits of cooked chicken if you have it - whatever. Put all the veg in a microwave plate and give them a couple of minutes to warm up. soften, whatever. Put your Naan or tortilla on a pizza pan and spread each one with Salsa, not to the edge -so it won’t ooze or spill. Last night I had some leftover home-made pasta sauce which I used up along with the heel of a jar of salsa. Then spread your veggies over the sauce (and meat, if you have any), again not quite to the edge. Sprinkle lavishly with grated cheese, your choice: Parmesan, Cheddar, Asiago, Tex Mex, Bake it for 5 minutes in a pre-heated 400 degree oven. That’s all.

Anon.

It’s kind of a memorial thing. All I knew of baseball when I got married was that i was terrible at it. We had a lovely 7th and 8th grade teacher who gave her pupils treats, depending on the weather. In cold weather she staged spelling bees for restless, school-bound kids; in warm weather it was scrub (soft) baseball. I was always much in demand for spelling bees and the first chosen, the last for baseball.

iWe were married in 1952 before television came to Winnipeg. There had to be more games in the afternoon than there are now because my memory focuses on a small radio that I listened to alone while Bill was still at work. I didn’t have a job outside my new home. I was 21 years old and I had been going to school since I was 5, ending with a Double Honours B.A. in French and English and a Master’s degree in English, convocating 17 days before my wedding (from M.A. to Mrs., the joke was.). I knew I wanted to be a writer but I had never taken a course in “creative writing”. There weren’t any.

So I didn’t know a thing about baseball. The announcers taught me well, so well that in 1957 when Don Larsen pitched a perfect game, I knew enough to warn Bill not to say anything, which he started to do about the sixth inning, because a) I knew what was happening and b) I knew that you weren’t supposed to say anything. Now I’ll Google to see if I got the name and date right…

“On October 8, 1956, in Game 5 of the 1956 World Series, Don Larsen of the New York Yankees threw a perfect game against the Brooklyn Dodgers. Larsen's perfect game is the only perfect game in the history of the World Series; it was the first perfect game thrown in 34 years and is one of only 23 perfect games in MLB “y

Missed the year by one. We were still listening to radio then, as I recall. I don’t remember seeing it.

It was one of Bill’s ambitions to see a World Series, live. He never made it. Every year after he died I would watch the Series in memoriam, so to speak, not having followed the season’s progress and therefore not knowing the players. It was not until the Blue Jays won two World Series, back to back (1992 and 1993), that I started paying more attention. In the past couple of years I have even become a not-quite-rabid fan. I guess I’ll never get to the World Series live, but I’m there in spirit.