Jingle the Waste Away

The end of the year is often characterised by celebration - by eating, drinking, giving gifts, and traveling to see friends and family. While I'd never want to diminish the importance of spending time with family, this time of year is also notorious for excess and waste. I've already dug a bit into consumerism and waste this year, but as we approach the period of gingerbread houses and eggnog, food is front and centre. Not so surprisingly, in the United Kingdom for example, an estimated 4.2 million Christmas dinners went to waste in 2014.

In industrialized nations, this waste occurs at roughly three points: 1) at the farmgate, where retailers determine if produce meet their aesthetic standards; 2) at the shops, where retailers ensure shelves are always amply stocked; and 3) in the home, where we either cook too much or fail to prepare foods in time. And while some of these things seem out of our control, it is important to recognize that we don't just waste food during holiday times; we can actually be proactive about this waste year-round. 

 

We're in a bit of a predicament about waste reduction ambitions for points 1 and 2. Australia has a highly concentrated food retail market - Coles and Woolworths make up an astounding ~70% of the market, though only 45-50% for fresh produce (which, alongside bakery, are the biggest retail wasters). A Conversation piece from earlier in the year essentially argued that curbing waste on this end of the food chain comes down to policy and regulation, drawing on the example of retail food waste bans in France. The vast market power these businesses enjoy allows them almost free reign in dictating the quantity and quality standards that farmers must meet. Organizations like OzHarvest help on the other end, by collecting and redistributing food surplus to charitable organizations. But there is a big sea, and there are both legal and logistical issues to overcome to fully address the approximately 44 million tonnes of waste. Australian retailers are still lagging in discounting products close to their sell-by dates to move them from the shelves to people's plates (and not the bins), and there are other low-hanging fruit.

But there are also the choices we as consumers make that affect food waste, and ultimately would have trickle-down effects in terms of the Big Guys' sourcing practices and policies. A Rabobank study found that Australian households toss 14% of their weekly groceries. The Foodprint Melbourne Project found that the amount of food thrown away in the city in one year could feed two million additional people over that same amount of time. For my environmentally-inclined readers, this also amounts to 3.6 million hectares of land, 2.5 million tonnes of greenhouse gases, and 180 million litres of water. Decreasing these numbers and making more conscientious decisions about what we buy, can provide a signal to retailers from the demand side for how they should act.

Furthermore, the good news is that food waste at the household level itself is easier for us as individuals to control, and particularly important during these times of festivity. Here are some holiday jingles as a reminder:*

1. You're makin' a list, and checkin' it twice, buying too much is not very nice!
2. How to tell, does it smell, the date says it should go. But oftentimes, the food is fine, use your senses and you'll know.
3. I'm dreaming of a leftovers sandwich, one from the meal the eve before.
4. The platefuls of food are frightful, but spring will be so delightful; dump scraps in the compost so, things can grow, things can grow, things can grow.

Well, that's all I've got. Stay tuned for some quick Chanukah musings on oil and a recap of the action-packed year. Here's to a foodwaste-free holiday!

Further Wasteful Reading:
America the Wasteful (2013)
Smashing Pumpkins (2014)
What's my Age Again? (2015)


*1. You're eyes are bigger than your stomach, so buy less - Santa Claus is Coming to Town  2. Check if food is spoiled and not just past the "pull-by" date - Jingle Bells  3. Use leftovers to make a simple sandwich or freeze 'em for a rainy day - White Christmas  4. Compost non-meat leftovers - Let it Snow

Seven Years: A Blogiversary Post and Squash

On October 15th 2009,  I wrote the first substantive post on this blog (although technically My Munchable made its debut on the 11th). Under that third Blog Action Day's (BAD) theme of climate change, the logical subject was growing food, having recently returned from working on a small organic farm. Since then, we have cycled through a variety of topics from water resources to human rights and equality. However, this year there is no official theme; the organizers have suggested writing on "whatever you are most passionate about". Oh, no problem, there are only like a million things I feel passionate about (ok, exaggeration...). But then two things happened: World Food Day announced its theme of climate change adaptation and this article ran in the New York Times. We've come full circle.

The article introduces Sarah Frey, a midwestern farmer who just happens to be the largest supplier of pumpkins in the U.S. But what made news is her effort to shift public perception of pumpkins from ornamental to edible, to bring variety back to winter squash. Every now and then I muse about starting a pumpkin farm. While mostly in jest (unless you know of any eligible young farmers...), this draw to growing things stems not only from the physical connectedness to the land, but also an appreciation for the beauty and necessity of diversity among what we grow.

So I wanted to spend the rest of this post talking about just that - the vast potential of we can grow. According to the UN Food and Agriculture Organization, over 250,000 types of plants have been document to grown in agricultural systems, yet a mere 3% are actually in use today. To further restrict that, three quarters of our food comes from just 12 crops, and rice, wheat, and maize comprise the bulk of that.

Now say instead this represented the collective expanse of wild plants and animals on the planet, and you were an ecologist or a conservation scientist. This would be tragic; people would be outraged that so much biodiversity had been allowed to ebb away. On one hand, this means the loss of considerable genetic diversity, reducing the chance of traits and mutations that might better suit a shift in climate or ecology. On the other hand, a focus of breeding efforts and training on just a handful of crops has probably contributed to the erosion of local diets. In some cases this has improved nutrition and reduced the prevalence of undernourishment related ailments (e.g. vitamin A deficiency and blindness), but in many instances this is leading to homogenization of diets. Our ubiquitous staples also seem to have very particular requirements in terms of optimal growing conditions - water, nutrients, etc. - that make them not-so-very adaptable to inter-annual variation and change over time.a

Wayward cabbage among squashes at Borough Market

So if we're talking about agriculture and climate change, a lot of the arguments around maintaining biodiversity go back to resilience theory - building redundancy into agriculture as an insurance mechanism. But back to the pumpkins. These thick-skinned orbs are not exactly at the heart of food security; yet it's hard to imagine the beauty of diversity more evident than in this collection of colourful cucurbites. While relegated to three species, the hundreds of varietals of Cucurbita maxima, moschata, and pepo span all sorts of shapes, sizes and shades. In the grocery store you may see only the typical butternut, acorn, and occasional spaghetti (unless you're in Oz, and Kents and Blues seem particularly prevalent), as with so many food crops the industry has downsized and streamlined. But pumpkins may also be at risk due to climate change. Perhaps we shouldn't let diversity slide too far; a little nudge from consumer demand may go a long way.

Finally, with Halloween only a couple of weeks off, it's also important to make sure your pumpkin doesn't contribute to climate change! Make sure to compost the remains...or better yet, cook it up before it goes off.

Read Previous B.A.D. Posts

BAD 2015: Vocal Consumers and Silent Producers

BAD 2014: BAD Inequality: EnGendering a Resilient Future

BAD 2013: Les Droits Humains

BAD 2012: A Collective Vote with Our Forks

BAD 2011: At What Cost?

BAD 2010: Water

BAD 2009: Weeding Down Climate Change

What's My Age Again?

That number can be very seductive - a set of digits on the side of a bottle or the bottom of a bag that determines whether a food is destined for the dinner table or the rubbish bin. Not always conveying the same message, sometimes this number refers to 'best before' or 'use by', or it might be a 'sell by' date for the store's use. While these labels are intended to  safeguard people's health and avoid food-borne illnesses, they have also contributed to considerable waste of perfectly edible food.

Sure, you have heard the statistics, that 30-50% of all food in the world go to waste. In 'developed countries', the waste occurs most often toward the end of the supply chain, with the retailer and consumer responsible rather than the farmer and processer. Among the many reasons why people might toss out food, confusing or misleading labels definitely rank up there. Oftentimes this date is an indicator for grocery stores to pull an item from the shelves, and not the item to be eat. And even if it were, there are many comestibles still perfectly safe (though perhaps slightly less tasty) to eat after any and all of the dates printed. Most of the time, it is pretty simple to tell if something has gone 'off'. And yet people have stopped trusting their own good sense and powerful senses, trusting in a printed date when a smell, a glimpse, a feel can tell so much more.

So why, you might be wondering on this first day of the 2015 Live Below the Line Challenge, am I discussing food waste and sell-by dates when the topic should be poverty and hunger? The link may seem tenusous, but there are perhaps more connectios than at first come to mind. On moving to the UK, I was surprised by a shelf full of fruit, vegetables, meat, and dairy that had reached their sell-by dates, priced at a reduced rate. What struck me even more was how, towards closing time when items are being first culled, a crowd composed of people often seen scattered throughout the city soliciting change from passersby gathers to jump on the bargains. Something I hadn't seen before in US grocery stores (though apparently 'salvage' stores exist), this practice seems a practical solution to cutting back on waste of perfectly good food while also providing a means for more needy consumers to buy sustenance.

The second connection is perhaps even more direct. I remember during my short stint at Whole Foods, I was not only appalled by how much we had to pull from the shelves, but also surprised that the store partnered with a local foodbank or soup kitchen to donate still usable goods. In fact, there are charities and non-profit organizations across the US that bridge the gap between supermarket food waste and food bank queues. Food Donation Connection and Food Lifeline are just two examples of organizations facilitating the movement of food to those in need. And while retail food waste is dwarfed by what is thrown away at home, there is greater opportunity to help support those who are food insecure.

Finally, I just wanted to give an update on the week ahead. Though I didn't manage to nab anything from the discount shelves, it was still possible to find some deals. In the previous post you saw how my previous years stack up to Gwyneth's Food Stamp Challenge menu. I shook things up a bit this time around and decided to buy flour and hope for creative inspiration in the baking department!

1000 g  brown bread flour - £0.63

500 g yellow split peas - £0.53
500 g pearled barley - £0.55

200 g peanuts - £0.48
6 bananas - £0.68
225 g carrots - £0.14
1 butternut squash - £0.79
400 g tomatoes, canned - £0.34
1 onion - £0.15
1 pointed cabbage - £0.49
60 g Salt, cinnamon, and curry powder (scaled price) - £0.17

250g Sourdough starter - priceless (no but really, very difficult to price, fed with my flour)

Total: £4.85

Read More:

What a Waste - April 2014, My Munchable Musings

 WRAP UK Food Waste Estimates 2015