Awareness of the environmental impact of consumerism has never been higher – except when it comes to food. Now, a new campaign is seeking to encourage thrift and prevent overbuying, a habit that not only costs money but also contributes to climate change.
What kind of kitchen waste smells the worst? “Definitely raw, spoiled chicken,” says Dr William Rathje. “It’s bad enough to make anyone want to turn and run.” He would know. As the world’s leading ‘garbologist’, he’s been trawling through dustbins for 30 years. But he’s no crank. Leading corporations want to hear what this man-in-a-respirator has to say. After all, kitchen waste is an indicator of consumer behaviour. We are what we throw away – however bad it smells.
As Dr Rathje analysed my kitchen waste, it made me think: I was throwing away too much. We all do, according to the not-for-profit organisation Waste & Resources Action Programme (Wrap) and the Prudential Soggy Lettuce Report, which revealed that the average Briton throws away £424 in food each year. That’s £20 billion worth of unused food annually – more than three times our spending on international aid. When I was asked to help with Wrap’s Love Food, Hate Waste campaign, which launched late last year, I couldn’t say no. After all, I am part of the problem.
As a food writer, I often throw out things I’ve been sent to try – unusual stir-fry sauces with goji berries, for instance. Then there are the Buy One, Get One Free products that I never get round to using up. I am buying too much. I blame the supermarkets. But then I blame them for everything. I have to start accepting responsibility for my actions.
Since the end of rationing, food has been plentiful. Throwing it away doesn’t seem such a big deal
We used to. During the Second World War, thrift equated with virtue and food was a ‘munition of war’. We were exhorted to work wonders with Spam and dried eggs. But since the end of rationing and the advent of intensive farming, food has been plentiful – and cheap. Throwing away food doesn’t seem such a big deal.
Producing, transporting and storing food uses energy. If we were able to halve food waste, the production of CO2 equivalents would be cut by 15 million tonnes every year. If the waste ends up in landfill and rots without oxygen in a bag, it releases methane, another greenhouse gas that’s a big contributor to climate change.
Thankfully, our best chefs agree with the Love Food, Hate Waste message. After all, more waste equals less profit. On the family farm back in Ireland, Richard Corrigan would kill his own pigs and use everything, from the blood to the trotters. The only time I’ve seen him lose his temper was when a sous chef used the leaves of fresh chervil and threw away the roots.
"Good housekeeping is what I think it used to be called,” says Michel Roux. “In this age of convenience foods, the art of how to keep waste to almost nothing has gone. A lot of young chefs haven’t a clue. Breasts of chicken and portioned fish are ordered to save time and wage costs. So the skills are no longer required to use the by-products. This, I may add, is not the case at Le Gavroche."
Since being involved in the campaign, I have learned to trust myself, and my sense of smell more. I don’t abuse a use-by date, but I treat best-before and sell-by dates as guidelines only.
After all, supermarkets can’t help but cater for a general public that’s poorly educated about food. I now have a thermometer for my fridge, helping to keep the temperature at the upper end of a 1–5ºC range, where food still stays fresh. I’m a more thoughtful cook, making the most of leftovers (and that doesn’t just mean bubble and squeak). Dr Rathje would be proud.
For more information, see lovefoodhatewaste.com.