I had been chatting with a church friend (now deceased) in a distant state, and realized that her husband would soon be there for dinner with their two children. I asked her what they would be eating. She said "Elephant Heela".Huh? What did she mean. She laughed, and explained that this was the family's private name for leftovers.
I am reminded of that, because I am writing this at our house in Colorado. Since we were last here in May, we have lent the place to three different sets of people. We invite them to help themselves to what they find: we don't want them having to shop for (say) pepper and other spices. What happens is that they buy groceries and don't finish them. so they leave them in our refrigerator.
When we arrive, being "frugal" (to put it mildly) we consider it our duty to finished opened containers. Hummus, for instance, would never be my first choice for a lunch item, but when we found three different containers of it, I have cheerfully been eating it with some very tasty crackers. My more usual choice of baguette, Black Forest Ham, and a good cheese, has had to wait.
I do transport small quantities of foodstuffs by air, between Boulder County and Berkeley, and vice versa. This isn't a problem with checked baggage, but on the way to Colorado, my carry-on bag was searched, and a container of cream cheese (with chives and onions) was confiscated. Why? The TSA person said it was "liquid". Huh? A mite viscous, methinks. I didn't argue, but I did wonder whether it would end up spread on someone's bagel. But I digress.
Another place where visitors leave items is the shower. An amazing variety of shampoos, conditioners, skin lotions, and the like are there. Some of these we'll use--but we did throw out some bright red unidentifiable pills. that found their way to my desk.