Have I mentioned that I'm the fiancée of a bartender? To be more exact, Nils is a general manager and bartender of an establishment in Cambridge. He's been employed at said bar for close to a decade now. We've been together nearing six years of that stint. Although I'd love to chat about all of the ways in which this profession slips into our lifestyle, today, I'll simply begin with how it affects our eating habits. Dinner. Supper. The day's final meal.

I'm sure there are many of you who also share conflicting schedules with your better half. We make due, don't we? And, the time that we spend together during the weekdays---those two whole hours in between my workday and his worknight---are made that much more precious because of their limitations. Usually, we just lounge around. He psychs himself up for the night ahead of patron pleasing. I muster up the energy for a workout in some capacity, cram in any chores or writing (this blog provides the sweetest distraction).

Also occupying this time is the concept of dinner. I specify concept because often it's just that. We're constantly tailoring the notion of dinner to fit our appetites and availability. He may ring me at work to check in about ordering delivery. Verify that I am in fact hungry. A late lunch on my end may signal his flying solo for dinner. Or, we may eat together---my splitting the meal into a snack before my workout and dinner after---just so we may share the edible time.

Nils doesn't neglect his own worth in the kitchen. This guy wooed me with his fried fish and mashed taters. Serious stuff. On the weekdays that I open the front door to a gust of heated, seasoned air, my stomach leaps at the potential for a real dinner.Together. A kind pause before the remainder of the day. Those are the nights I cherish.

On most nights, however, I dine alone.

Sometimes, I'm selfish. I revert back to my single gal eating habits. I nosh. Seldom is meat involved, unless it's salami. I opt for lazy eats like hummus, toasted pita and cheese nubs. No more effort is had than a few knife swipes and spoonings. I may bake a dainty salmon fillet that's spot on with miso paste and soy sauce. These eats would never settle his hunger. The man needs his meat. Veggies. Starch. Hot sauce.

Then, there are the evenings I meal plan. I set out to quench my immediate hunger as well as the potential for his own at 3:00 AM. In these instances, I may roast a chicken. I snag a few slices for me that suffice with a breeze of a salad. Then, I'll hack away every last morsel into a bowl. Add celery, scallions, cheese bits, mayo, mustard and a few select spices. Next, the carcass is doused in water and vegetable remains for a stock.

The key to the meals I strategize is flexibility. They need to taste good now. They also must prove tantalizing in the hours that I deem early morning and he relishes as the end of his night. They mustn't spoil the air with harsh aromas that quell his appetite hours after emergence. His senses must be greeted as warmly as my own are when the meal is first laid before me. It's not an easy task.

Obvious are the bulk meals like lasagna, American chop suey, and homemade macaroni and cheese. I need inspiration, however, to motivate for a market visit or to make the most of what's at hand.

On Monday, I crafted such a recipe. Although he wasn't at work, Nils was at his basketball game. Despite sending guests home with leftovers from our Thanksgiving meal, we had scrappy remains that Nils admitted he would not tear through to make a sandwich and I noticed were not appropriate for my usual post-Thanksgiving soup. I took stock of the refrigerator's tenants piling holiday remnants onto the counter. I busied my hands with the shredding of the meat from the turkey legs and solo wing, potatoes and a wonderfully sharp New York style cheddar cheese. Tossed a bunch of scallions and a half dozen eggs. Soon, a frittata was made.

This recipe arrived in an impromptu fashion. Please feel free to substitute with whatever similar ingredients you see fit. I simply want to share this recipe as my leftovers are lingering and yours may be as well. The loads of attention paid the bird last week may leave some uninspired this week. Just toss it all together, cut wedges for those around you and dab bites with warm gravy.

I began writing this post while waiting for Nils to arrive home from his winning game. It was sweet torture inhaling the frittata aroma as it lingered in its warmth. Normally, I'd dig right in and he'd share in the meal hours later. This night though, I waited. Frittata covered for safekeeping.

A deep inhale. A sip from the last glass in a bottle opened for the holiday. A wait.

When he returned home, with our friends Tim and Ian, I wrapped wedges of the frittata in aluminum foil for the guys to take home. The giving spirit of the holiday lingering in our kitchen.

I burden a fork with generous cuts through a wedge drenched with gravy. The dark meat is greasy and threaded throughout. Wisps of cheese pull a tightrope between the eggy mass and my mouth. I return for a second helping without shame. Later, when Nils takes a bite, he grins with a comfortable smile. Shares that the flavors remind him of his mom's post-Thanksgiving hot turkey sandwiches---thick layers of bread and turkey shuffled beneath a flood of gravy. If it tastes like Mom's, it's a keeper. Therefore, you must have the recipe now. Serve with gravy, any leftover rolls, beer or wine. May the remains of your Thanksgiving be as sweet.

Turkey Frittata

3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 bunch medium scallions, sliced into thin rounds
2 medium white potatoes, shredded
2-2 1/2 cups shredded turkey
6 large eggs
2 tablespoons milk
salt and pepper to taste
2 cups shredded extra sharp cheddar cheese

Place the oven rack in the middle. Set the oven to Broil.

Melt butter in an over-proof skillet over a medium heat. Saute scallions and potato strands until a vegetal aroma is noticeable, about 5 minutes. Add turkey, stir to combine and heat the chill from the turkey, about 3 minutes.

Crack eggs into a medium bowl. Flood eggs with milk and gently beat with a fork until eggs are an opaque, pale yellow.

Carefully pour eggs over the onion, potato and turkey mixture. Stir to coat the mixture. Flattened the frittata with the back of the spoon to even out the whole lot. Cook over a medium-to-medium-low heat, careful of burning, about 10 minutes. Once bits of cooked egg appears on top and a spatula run around the edges reveals cooked egg as well, turn off the burner.

Protecting your hand with an oven mitt, carefully transfer the skillet to the oven. Broil for a few minutes, until the molten cheese is golden.

Remove from oven and cool for 5 minutes.