Eating has always been a joy of mine; cooking not so much. Times were simpler when I made food solely to feed my own budding appetite — my naïveté in both the kitchen and with the more insidious workings of the food industry made sure of that. You see, so much of our household waste happens in the kitchen, and an inexperienced home chef is an easy culprit for short cuts that quickly add up — negatively impacting both her wallet and the environment.
Today, after one too many food-based Netflix documentaries, I quell my anxiety by keeping my waste to a minimum and my choices as sustainable as possible. Some choices are easier than others, but bear in mind that we’re always learning and growing. With enough practice, certain inconvenient behaviours will become second nature.
I studied Anthropology at The University of Georgia, so I’ve always felt somewhat in-tune with the concept of sustainability as a community-based endeavour. However, much of what I learned at university wasn’t applicable — or even tangible — in my life until I ventured outside my comfort zone, i.e. the American Southeast. Something that I learned early on in my freshman year is the multi-faceted concept that it’s not just finances that shape your food choices, but also your culture and immediate environment. Take for instance my middle-class childhood: my mother, raised in the Midwest, never once cooked fish in our family home. Assume that we had the resources to purchase such a healthy staple, but understand that even if fresh seafood were readily available that far from the coast, my mother would shy away from preparing it for her children due to her personal aversion. Just as our culture defines our relationship with food, so too does it shape our attitude in sourcing, preparing and consuming it.
My love of seafood and the marine environment has grown steadily over the last five years, and my affinity for the ocean can be traced through my multiple moves to tropical locales. Grand Cayman is a gem of an island, picturesque with turquoise waters and lush vegetation, located just an easy flight from Atlanta. Super yachts and cruise ships frequent the harbour, and the Ritz-Carlton boasts the Caribbean’s only five star restaurant; the rampant luxury makes this country a true “millionaire’s playground.” Convenience and conformity were the order of the day, however. Recycling facilities were non-existent and conservation wasn’t encouraged. The juxtaposition of a near-obsession with water sports and marine life and a blatant disregard for pollution (the dump caught fire no less than three times during my stay) sat like a lump in my throat; no one made an effort, so why should I? I wanted to, but I didn’t. I had no agency, no outlet and no support.
Australia posed less of a threat to my conscience, as I soon discovered that the country known almost exclusively for its unique coral ecosystem would be more inclusive and encouraging towards a slew of progressive environmental practices and legislation. The friends I made in Sydney were also less apt to toss a cigarette butt on the beach or a beer bottle out of a boat; surrounding myself with like-minded individuals made my attempts at sustainability much more concerted and certainly more frequent. I suddenly found myself cooking and eating with both vegetarians and vegans, and exchanging recipes and banter over dietary choices. Whether for animal rights concerns, environmental sustainability or financial reasons, the choice to consume less meat was a common one in my diverse expat community.
Making the decision to move back to my partner’s home country of New Zealand was an easy one; how could living in the land of Middle Earth be anything less than magical? Fairy bread aside, Aotearoa is home to some of the most wholesome food in the world. Known for its dairy and agriculture industries, it’s not unusual to receive milk bottles at your doorstep or to serve lamb as a casual weeknight meal. Farming and fishing are more revered than religion, and with such esteemed status comes a nationwide respect and understanding of the complexities of each pursuit. Massive swathes of coastline are marine reserves, and the Department of Conservation has very strict guidelines on bag size and limit. Cattle — both beef and dairy — are grazed in grassy, eternally-green meadows, and supplemented in winter with silage, not corn. There is a general, underlying respect for the welfare of the animals that we consume and a subconscious understanding that we are all operating as an ecosystem; this intimacy with nature limits the detachment (food vs. environment) that I so often see in most western countries.
While our 100-year-old farmhouse is no off-the-grid ecolodge, New Zealand farmers may have been the original hippies. We aren’t equipped with solar panels (yet!), but we are too far outside of town to be on the water or sewage lines. All of our water is derived solely from rain and piped via gutters into hulking plastic tanks behind our home. My access to a precious resource — once an intangible understanding that it was simply there — has been severely limited. Perhaps more painful, the glaring visual of the water tanks reminds me daily of our dwindling supply.
Water has never once — save for a brief trip to West Africa — been a pressing concern of mine. However, wasting is easy when you don’t know where it's going. Or where it came from. The Eco Pulse Report on Water (2016) sums it up perfectly: “It's not just that consumers underestimate how much water they use — it's that they simply don't make the connection between the way they personally use water and the potential for a water crisis. In fact, they have a tough time connecting their own behaviors to their environmental impact in general.”
Similarly, I hauled bags and boxes of post-party detritus to the dump recently and was unexpectedly horrified at the sheer ugliness I witnessed. Have you been to a landfill? I don’t mean the sanitized, tidy tours you go on as a primary school student. I mean a 50-acre lot of stained concrete stalls of organised debris. It was utter chaos. The tip was smoggy, and the sound of screeching, belching machinery and hungry, warring seagulls was almost more unbearable than the sight of people’s leftovers. Dozens of obsolete TV’s with once-convex screens, furniture missing vital appendages, and a sea of broken glass as far as I could see. Everything we did — used, ate, wore or read — amalgamated in this hideous collection. It felt desolate, Blade Runner-esque.
I resolved to amend my part in this cycle — to no longer be complicit in the willing degradation of my immediate environment. How could I do this? In what way could I possibly impact the sheer volume of rubbish? By not adding to it, for a start. “Reduce, reuse, recycle" — this is the eco-friendly mantra we are all so familiar with, but a simple starting point for going sustainable. Reduce your consumption, reuse what you can, and always, always recycle. But let’s add another vital step to the alliterative mix: refuse. Say “no thanks” to the plastic bag at the supermarket, or the plastic straw at the local bar. Again, remove yourself from the cycle; there is so, so much we can’t control — but what we can, we should.
The constant deluge of global issues we are bombarded with can take one down a rabbit hole of consumer anxiety; while a post-apocalyptic world lurks on the edges of our collective imagination, it is important to focus on the enlightenment and progress we are seeing that is necessary to change the course of history. Being a part of such interconnected, grassroots movements can be a salve to the soul and perhaps slowly correct the human trajectory of a ruined planet. Find a local chapter of an eco-organization or have a conversation with a farmer at the local grower’s market; involve yourself in the conversation and be a part of the change.
While I commend those taking baby steps towards sustainability — such as swapping out household cleaners with a natural/biodegradable alternative (indoor air pollution is a thing!) or choosing glass over plastic — I encourage the bravest among you to roll your sleeves up on a weekend and put together a few projects that’ll benefit your home, garden and the wider world for generations to come.
Turn Garbage into Gold: Compost
In Al Gore's eye-opening book "An Inconvenient Truth: The Planetary Emergency of Global Warming and What We Can Do About It," he highlights a startling fact: “when organic waste materials, such as kitchen scraps and raked leaves, are disposed of in the general trash, they end up compacted deep in landfills. Without oxygen to aerate and assist in their natural decomposition, the organic matter ferments and gives off methane, which is the most potent of the greenhouse gasses — 23 times more potent than carbon dioxide in global warming terms. Organic materials rotting in landfills account for about one-third of man-made methane emissions in the United States. By contrast, when organic waste is properly composted in gardens, it produces rich nutrients that add energy and food to the soil — and of course also decreases the volume added to our landfills.” I’d consider the previous quote a pretty substantial introduction as to the importance of eliminating food waste in your home.
Another staple of Kiwi households, the compost bin is a humble tool used to both rid the kitchen of scraps and boost nutrients in the garden. Admittedly, our compost bin is a pre-fab kit from the local hardware shop, but there are a range of styles and sizes to suit any budget or backyard. I’d steer clear of the snazzy tumbler option though, as it’s not significantly speedier at producing compost (as advertised) and doesn’t allow for worms to interact with the contents of the bin (a necessity, in my opinion) — plus it’s one of the more expensive options. A simple three-sided enclosure can be nailed together from a few pieces of scrap wood and you’ll be on your way!
Once your compost bin has been assembled or constructed in a distant corner of your backyard (beware its potential as a pest magnet), it’s time to get the fermentation process started. I keep a giant old Tupperware container under my kitchen sink and pull it out whenever I cook; anything from potato peels to egg shells gets chucked in. I save onion, garlic, carrot, and celery ends in a freezer bag for chicken stock, but most other raw fruit and veggie scraps are safe for the compost bin. Remember to never put meat or dairy products in your compost and avoid anything that’s been cooked in oil. While various yard waste is acceptable to throw into the mix, it’s an especially good idea to keep a pile of grass clippings nearby. This is particularly important if you are going with an open-air design; the grass clippings serve as a thin, protective layer between decaying food and pesky flies — so top it off when necessary. In addition to your scraps pail, another useful accessory for the home composter is a small pitchfork as compost needs to be turned. A few other random bits I toss in my compost bin include un-laminated paper (like newspaper or the toilet roll, but not cereal boxes), hair clippings, and vacuum dust; and while it should be self-evident, never, ever put pet waste in your compost bin. With a steady supply of organic material and a consistent turning, in a few months your compost bin should be producing a dark, loamy soil perfect for supplementing your veggie patch.
You’ll also notice the abundance of worms come to help out the decomposition process, as you have effectively created for them the perfect conditions in which to thrive. Worms have long been known as a gardener’s best friend, and it’s not just because they break down and aerate the soil. Worm poo, or ‘castings’ as they are politely called, are rich in nutrients. It is for that reason that my next eco-friendly home project suggestion is the construction of a worm farm. This is an especially exciting endeavour if you have young children, as it’s not often that you buy worms in a box — or treat them like pets!
A homemade worm farm requires very little to get started and can easily be added onto later. We purchased two plastic tubs (minimum requirement), but were more concerned about the lid benefits than the size. The containers you choose need to come with sealable lids, and “stackability” is key. I also opted for lighter-colored plastic (but not clear!), as black attracts too much sunlight; too much sunlight means too much heat -and too much heat equates to shriveled worms. I even placed my worm farm in all-day shade (a prime location) when completed, stacked neatly on salvaged bricks (to prevent moisture from decaying the wooden deck underneath).
As for the construction of the unit, start with two same-size containers: one to hold the actual worm habitat and the lower level to catch the castings. As your worm farm grows, you can add upper levels, also full of soil and compost, for the worms to travel through. Again, make sure the tubs fit snuggly together when stacked on top of each other; this is not just for stability, but also to guarantee a more direct route for the castings to pass through the aligned holes in the bottom of the top tub/lid of the lower tub. When drilling holes in the tubs, I have a few trial-and-error recommendations: 1) Stack your boxes in the order that you want them and drill through the bottom of the top tub and through the lid of the bottom tub; this aligns the holes more accurately and saves time. 2) Complete your project on a smooth surface to allow for easy clean up; the abundance of plastic shavings might entice hungry birds/rodents if not disposed of properly. 3) Don’t bother with a precise grid pattern; I tired quickly of this and just made sure no hole was more than half an inch from another.
Once complete and cleared of any debris, I filled my upper tub with roughly ¾ potting soil and sifted a few handfuls of compost throughout (just to add extra nutrients — but you can skip this step if you don’t have any on hand — just don’t use solely compost to begin with). Further, make sure you don’t fill the tub to the brim — you’ll need room to feed your worms! Release your pre-purchased (or garden-sourced) worms into their new home, briefly water the soil (think moist, not wet), and cover with a “worm blanket” before putting the lid on the unit. Some worm farm kits come with a burlap rectangle to fit snuggly over the soil, but I simply moistened thin strips of cardboard from my recycle bin, and overlapped the paper until the soil was covered. The purpose of this step is to not only keep moisture in, but to keep the flies at bay. The warmth, moisture, and presence of decaying food is a big draw for other bugs, but as long as your soil/food scraps are covered, and the lid is closed snuggly, you should only see earth worms in your worm farm!
As for feeding them, I generally save the “better” food scraps from the compost container under my counter for the worm farm. Think sweet — fruit pieces or vegetable peels — not sour or harsh (i.e. no citrus or aromatics). The worms don’t need to be fed often, a handful once a week or so, but be sure to place food under the “worm blanket” or under a bit of soil; rotate the location of the feeding spot every time, just to get the worms moving throughout the bin. Check every few days that the soil stays moist, that there aren’t any stray worms floating in the lower bin, and that you aren’t growing a pumpkin patch by accident. After a few months, you should begin to see dark liquid collecting in the lower bin. This black gold is like magic in your garden -collect and distribute where required. When you’ve got your compost bin, worm farm, and chickens up and running — consider your home and garden a mini ecosystem; everything works in synchronicity.
Keep Your Own Chickens
Over the past half-year, I have come to adore the four hens we call pets. They are clever, curious animals, and the blatant hierarchy amongst them is fascinating. Our recent move to the countryside allowed us the space to let our girls roam free; aside from the hesitation to go barefoot now, we don’t regret our decision. They have access to much more land — meaning shady spaces to scratch for worms and bugs, sandy spots to wriggle and nap in dust, and plenty of luscious grass to munch and scratch. The added nutrients — namely protein — from the multitude of discovered bugs gives their eggs a vibrant orange yolk. I am forever amazed at the daily uniqueness of each egg: in colour, shape and texture. There are the occasional abrasive calcium ridges or an interesting ring of white on an otherwise caramel-colour egg. Nonetheless, I find myself eager to collect the four eggs each morning and I’m forever scanning endless recipes for new and exciting ways to use eggs in the kitchen.
My partner and I were in agreement from the beginning about what to feed and how to treat our hens. We opted for a ‘scratch & lay’ mix, as opposed to the more commonplace pellets. We liked knowing what our girls were getting, and visually calculating the composition of ingredients. In addition to seeds and grains, chicken feed is recognizable for its calcium content — often in the form of crushed oyster shells. In addition to these rough pebble-sized bits necessary for shell development, they are accompanied by an insoluble grit. Lacking teeth, chicken require the consumption and brief storage of grit to aide in the digestive process. As our hens are free-range, they find small rocks and sand quite easily on their own. Equally as important as their food, chickens require a fair amount of water to survive. Quite meticulous in their cleaning process, I find that the girls not only drink water regularly, but they also use their water dispenser to rinse their beaks.
Chickens, though long domesticated, are quite hardy creatures, and often found wild and thriving in the bush. While some say we might spoil our birds, there are a few basic requirements I’d say are necessary for proper care. If you aren’t able to provide a fully “free range” environment like we’ve been able to do, at minimum I believe household chickens should have a ‘run.’ This is a relatively small, enclosed (but open-air) space outside the actual coop. While there are no natural predators here in New Zealand (leaving me a bit lax in their protection), I would strongly recommend making the run — and the henhouse for that matter — completely predator proof.
As for the coop itself, there is a relatively easy equation for deciding the dimensions of your coop relative to the number of chickens you want to house (consult Google), but I’m a firm believer in the more outdoor space they have, the less room they need indoors. Minimum requirements would suggest that the place where they sleep is separate from where they lay for the sake of hygiene; regardless of the size of your flock though, you’ll often find that they have a favorite nesting box — and that they’ll wait patiently for their turn in line. So do make sure that there are at least two nesting boxes, but more than adequate roosting space (their preferred sleeping location). Roosting space can also be provided in the run (in the form of large branches or logs), but chickens will need a safe, known location to sleep indoors. Twilight is an enjoyable time of day to observe your hens. As the light fades, they will slowly make their way to the henhouse and put themselves to bed — in order, of course.
While most of your kitchen scraps will make their way to the compost bin or worm farm, it is beneficial to get your hens familiar with fresh food as well. They often refuse anything other than feed in the beginning, but withhold a bit of their pellets or grains, and they’ll eventually be hungry or brave enough to eat offcuts of veggies or fruit. Unlike the compost bin, chickens can consume meat scraps (they love fish offcuts!), but don’t feed your flock anything mouldy or spoiled. Our girls are very well fed, between their feed, grazing, and bits and pieces from the kitchen; as such, they are very friendly and forward with their attention and affection.
Chickens aren’t an easy, self-reliant pet; they require daily feeding and watering, along with egg collection. Further, they are prone to minor hiccups that can quickly turn to major issues — things like mites or soft eggs can lead to more serious complications if untreated. Regular cleaning of the coop is also a commitment that many don’t anticipate, but like any labor-intensive endeavor — the benefits you reap make the effort worth it!
Waste Reduction in the Kitchen & Throughout the Home…
Applying sustainability practices in your own home can seem a bit daunting, as the learning curve is long and often painful — and living in a nation that finds caretaking your surroundings as a revolutionary concept certainly doesn’t ease the stress of going against the grain. Groupthink is a scary reality, but if you can start your own positive trends, you can see small, but meaningful change. Just note that what is often (initially) the most personally inconvenient choice may be the more conscientious or considerate option for the greater good; think of your actions as one of a global citizen doing good for his or her fellow earthlings.
What follows is a hodgepodge of advice and trial-and-error attempts (collected over years and across countries) at reducing my household consumption of resources and production of waste. Bear in mind that my partner and I reside in rural New Zealand; our immediate environment is most likely drastically different from the average reader’s — in physical landscape, policy decisions, and the pop culture approach to conservation. Apply what you can and alter what you need; what works for us may not suit your lifestyle, but we were once big-city dwellers too — the road to sustainability is a process!
My Kitchen Rules — basic guidelines that determine my shopping, cooking and waste disposal choices:
NO plastic.
Remember that water is a finite resource.
Make or take your own.
Plan and budget.
Breaking it down further…
This instead of that:
The less packaging the better!
Buy bulk instead of single-serve.
Choose loose produce (bring your own mesh bag) instead of pre-packaged.
Choose glass over plastic (for single-use containers/packaging).
It’s easier to recycle (glass can be recycled, whereas plastic can only be down-cycled),
healthier for you (plastic leaches chemicals into your food),
and a great option to reuse the container.
There’s a store-brand lime marmalade that I only use once in a blue moon (secret ingredient to a perfect Thai green curry!), but I purchase specifically for the cut-glass look of the softball-size jar
If you must use plastic, reuse an old take away container or washed yogurt pot — never buy new Tupperware; most new plastic is virgin, or newly made, as opposed to manufactured from recycled materials. Not only does this mean useful material that could’ve been repurposed is in the landfill, but also that resources had to be wasted in order to manufacture a brand new object.
Avoid aluminium:
Glass > canned food: better for you, better for the environment.
I always buy my tomato sauce or puree in a jar; not only is this better for your health (the acid in tomatoes breaks down the lining of the can), but the glass container is the perfect size and shape for large batches of chicken stock.
Make your own beans and lentils from a dried state — better tasting, no preservatives, less waste AND cheaper.
Metal, wood or silicon > plastic kitchen utensils: (better for you, better for environment, and they last longer).
Useful tools:
Containers: Again, avoid plastic and invest in glass if you can, or metal (I love metal bento boxes for lunches); however, I try to avoid buying new — either try to repurpose previously used containers or dig for unique treasures at a thrift store (some of my best kitchen utensils, cookware, and appliances are second-hand).
Serving dishes and tableware: choose ceramic, metal, glass, wood or other natural fiber over plastic; I realize picnic or camping use calls for indestructible items, but enamelware is a trendy alternative that I adore.
Standard kitchen rolls, such as cling film, baking paper and paper towels can be easily (if reluctantly) replaced with reuseable alternatives; thanks to beeswax wraps, a silicon baking sheet and an abundance of multi-purpose tea towels, my kitchen trash can is often empty for days.
Stock your purse, backpack, suitcase or car with the essentials to prevent any impulsive purchases: a (glass or metal) water bottle and coffee cup are key, but even having utensils (cutlery, chopsticks, drinking straw) on hand prevents unintentional wastage.
Reusable shopping bags — this is one of the easiest changes!
Accountability for waste:
Recognize that when purchasing anything from a shop, you are not just buying the product, but also the packaging. The onus to dispose of such waste (often hard to recycle soft plastics) is now on you, the consumer. Discuss with the shopowner or attendant, search for the better choice (i.e. loose onions vs. bagged), and declare your discontent on social media. We’ve all seen what organizing for action can do; don’t be afraid to exercise your voice. If you think something needs to be done in your community, weigh in.
Consider every dollar a “vote.” Companies and corporations generally have an ethos, albeit often for PR reasons; however, choose your allegiance wisely and make every effort to go for the product from the company who uses recycled packaging, sources local goods, keeps manufacturing as green as possible, and who supports progressive labor or environmental movements and policy.
Check with your local recycle center about whether or not they accept soft plastics (our supermarket here accepts old plastic shopping bags and other soft plastics), and whether or not they would consider it with enough support. With this service available to us, almost nothing in our house goes in the trash!
Seasonal and professional:
How many times do you hear “buy local”? It’s a good rule of thumb to follow, not just because it puts money into the local economy, but because the food didn’t have to travel far to reach you (meaning less resources wasted in transport AND much fresher because it travelled a shorter distance).
Americans have food — regardless of season — available at the drop of a hat. The proliferation of hothouse produce makes choosing seasonal fruit and veg a difficult endeavor, but give it your best shot. Buying produce in season saves your wallet, and also encourages experimentation in the kitchen when resources are low.
One of the best pieces of advice I have encountered in my voracious consumption of cook-books, food documentaries, and chefs’ biographies is that you should run your home kitchen like a professional kitchen: as in, like a tight ship. I don’t mean to say that only the best ingredients will do, but that you need to be smart about what you buy and how you cook. Use fewer random ingredients — or if you need something unique, make sure you put it to good use throughout the week. Use more of the food you buy — like peeling and chopping the stalk of the broccoli (as opposed to just consuming the florets), saving the rind of a hard cheese to flavor your risotto (chuck the parmesan rind in the freezer until needed, cook to recipe, and discard before serving), and using the stems of cilantro during the cooking process (vs. only using the leaves for garnish). Use meal planning religiously — this will prevent unnecessary purchases and also prevent wasted food down the track. Make your own — sauces clutter our fridges and are often a hidden source of sugar and preservatives. Master a few easy sauces (béchamel, gravy, aioli, balsamic reduction) and you’ll never buy packet products again! I am also a huge proponent of homemade spice mixes — try to buy one new spice jar on every shopping trip, and soon you’ll have an envy-inducing collection; I find spices can turn an otherwise sad assortment of pantry staples into a delectable meal. Don’t be afraid of frozen foods! Frozen foods are flash-frozen immediately after harvest, so they are often more nutritionally valuable than some fresh fruit and veg that have already begun the decomposition process on the shelf. This is often a more affordable option for certain foods (berries, for instance), and is a great back up when a last-minute trip to the supermarket for fresh produce isn’t an option. Some of my favorite frozen foods include free-flow spinach (for anything from smoothies to spaghetti Bolognese), frozen green beans (for curries), and peas or corn (a quick side dish in a pinch).
Resources:
IARC Report on Carcinogens — check which substances are toxic (plastics, aluminium, etc) and avoid use if possible.
In today’s ultra-modern world, it's incredibly time consuming and often inconvenient to “go green.” There are certainly companies out there that have jumped on the sustainability bandwagon and with clever marketing have made conscientious consumption more attainable. Do your research. Decide what works for you and implement small changes throughout your life where possible. I do believe that it is a process, so don’t beat yourself up for not being the perfect hippie just yet. The path of least resistance is just that — so make the unpopular choices and be a revolutionary in your own home, and perhaps you will influence the community around you.
Story and illustrations by Sarah Belcher