This morning after getting my work day going I took a routine trip to the fridge and emerged with two and a half packs of expired natto. The date on the packs was 1/18. Today is 1/21. Cool. For me, eating expired food isn’t a dare or some weird habit. It’s my rebellion against food waste. It’s a duty.
As with all things, I gave the natto a quick smell test. Granted, with natto smelling like it’s been aged in an old sneaker factory, it’s a bit of a formality. Confirming its edibility, I scooped it all into a bowl, cracked in an egg, added some soy sauce and a big dab of wasabi, and whipped up a masterpiece. Breakfast of champions.
Eri watched the entire scene and was like, “Guess you don’t need lunch today.” I smiled and replied, “I’m probably gonna be fine.” And honestly, I was. Fast-forward a couple of hours to 11:45, and I get a text. It’s Eri, sharing a picture of bacon and shrimp pasta on the downstairs dining table.
“Hey, lunch is ready.” I was in a Zoom call. Then five minutes later, “It’s getting cold.”
I’m not flying solo in my belief of respecting food. Between my devotion to clearing out the fridge like a raccoon and Eri’s expertise at putting together fresh, amazing meals, we’ve got a good balance going. Yes, expired natto isn’t everyone’s cup of tea (possibly no one's), but for me, it’s about honoring what we have. Actually it tastes pretty great once you get past the whole old shoe vibe. Wasabi helps kill any weird aromas.
I make an excellent natto omelette.

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