A while back, my husband and I made a Crockpot roast with this beautiful slab of beef his brother gave us. Grass-fed, absolutely gorgeous with a thick hunk of fat on one side.

I did just a terrible job cooking it (somehow, even with the Crockpot). It was kind of chewy. So it sat, an onimous Leftover, in the fridge for nearly a week. TJ made a valiant effort to turn part of it into sandwiches. But every time I opened the door I felt kind of guilty. It stared at me accusingly, as if to say, “You ruined half a cow. What a waste.”

I was determined to redeem myself.

But in our house growing up, my mother didn’t really re-use leftovers. You just heated it back up in its original form and ate it. Or maybe turned it into a sandwich. Transforming it into a new meal altogether wasn’t on the menu, so to speak.

But I was feeling creative last week, and, armed with a bottle of barbecue sauce and that Crockpot again, the roast and I had another go.

Enter the three Rs of Leftovers: Resauce, Reheat, Re-eat.

That three pound roast met with half a very large bottle of barbecue sauce, about a 1/4 cup of honey and a minced onion and over about five hours on low transformed itself into barbecue beef. I shredded the meat with forks probably three hours in, so the sauce had a chance to penetrate every little piece.

When my husband came home to a house smelling like barbecue he was overjoyed. “Where’d you get pulled pork?” he asked. And I just smiled innocently. “I didn’t.”

And he never missed that roast.