Refuse, Reduce, Reuse, Recycle: cutting back food waste

From the ground up, producers to consumers, Americans are wasting lots of food.  About 30% of farmed produce is never sold because of imperfections, however minor or cosmetic. Farmers destroy their crops-plow them back into the ground or send them to landfills- because it’s cheaper to do that than to find consumer markets for imperfect produce. Supermarkets throw out inconceivable amounts of prepared and packaged foods due to fear of selling something at or near the sell-by date. As individual consumers, Americans throw out between 1/3 - ¼ of the groceries they buy. At each level, there is enormous waste of money and resources. And as an added “fuck you” to the Earth, decomposing food in landfills produces methane, a gnarly greenhouse gas that contributes to climate change.

The food waste situation is infuriating, but as animals we have to eat.  The problem is bigger than any one person can solve, but I at least wanted to feel like my choices were solution-oriented. I decided to reframe my food purchases using the classic “Refuse, Reduce, Reuse, Recycle” model. 

Refusing means not using unnecessary things. Applied to food, it means that I don’t eat foods that are highly impactful on the Earth. Being a vegetarian makes this easy: I don’t eat fish because fishing destroys aquatic ecosystems, and I don’t eat meat or dairy, which require the most water and land resources per unit of nutrition they provide

Reducing my food purchases has been the biggest challenge. Americans are conditioned to be arch-consumers. Supermarkets are designed to make you buy even when you don’t need to. Here in California, fresh produce is beautiful and plentiful. Berkeley Bowl carries like eight varieties of pluots, and I want all of them, even though I know I’d throw most of them away. To reduce impulse food buying, I’ve started using a meal preparation app that helps me plan meals and create shopping lists based on those plans. Another way I’m reducing waste is by purchasing “ugly” produce from a local Oakland company, Imperfect Produce; more on that in a later post.

With less food coming into my home, I can focus on producing less waste going out. One way to do this is by reusing food, and thereby extending its usable lifespan. When fruit go past their prime I put them in tupperware in the freezer to use in smoothies and baked goods. I freeze veggie bits that would normally be thrown away (onion peels, carrot tops, tough ends of kale) in a tupperware and make a big pot of vegetable stock. I use the stock to cook rice, make soups, in and stir-frys. And, as an ex-Portlandia resident, of course I can pickle that. But I don’t know it all, so if you have any good ideas for recipes involving paste-their-prime produce, please submit them to me at whatwehadfordinner.tumblr.com

Recycling food is getting easier, because Oakland has mandated composting for all buildings. Waste Management picks up food scraps and yard clippings from our county, and turns it into compost that you can get for free if you show up at the Berkeley Marina and  pretend to be a Berkeley resident on the last Saturday of the month.  

Is any of this making a difference? I don’t know. I think I’m saving money and throwing away less food. I’m still looking for more ways to reduce my imprint and I’m open to suggestions. 


#Oakland #neon spotted near Jack London Square, just in time for the 90th anniversary of The Great Gatsby. “The eyes of Doctor T.J Eckleburg are blue and gigantic -their retinas are one yard high. They look out of no face, but, instead, from a pair...

#Oakland #neon spotted near Jack London Square, just in time for the 90th anniversary of The Great Gatsby. “The eyes of Doctor T.J Eckleburg are blue and gigantic -their retinas are one yard high. They look out of no face, but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose.” #psychicadvisor #mystictruths


Thirty-something familial sadnesses, or a lost and found excerpt from the manuscript of Jonathan Safran Foer’s Everything Is Illuminated (no really, I found this in my attic)

The sadness of the father … The sadness of the mother … The sadness of the widow and widower … The sadness of the orphan …. The sadness of not having a word for a parent who loses a child … The pain and suffering of birth … The sadness of birthdays … Postpartum sadness … The sadness of the only child … The grief of childlessness …  Older sibling sadness … Younger sibling sadness … The sadness of the overlooked middle child … The unknowable sadness of those who were never born … The sadness of not missing dead relatives you never even knew … The sadness of the favorite child … The angst of the least favorite … The wretchedness of abandoned children … The sadness of children who care for aging parents … The sadness of unkempt graves … The fear of heredity … The guilt of inheritance …  The sadness of haunted houses … Divorce sadness …The sadness of the unplayed piano in the parlor … The sadness of breaking plates to make a point …  The sadness of slammed doors … The sadness of calling the cops, again … The abrupt sadness of an empty house … The sound of breaking lightbulbs in your bare hands … Is this normal sadness …. The sadness of do you want to talk about it  … The sadness of not wanting to talk about it … Abuse sadness … Neglect sadness …  The sadness of never talking about it …


BoBo meets PoMo at the weird intersection of Telegraph and nothing, and everything that is poised to be; where gentrification meets the empty lot, where art deconstructs itself; where me and everyone who looks like me crosses paths, wondering what it...

BoBo meets PoMo at the weird intersection of Telegraph and nothing, and everything that is poised to be; where gentrification meets the empty lot, where art deconstructs itself; where me and everyone who looks like me crosses paths, wondering what it all means, on the way home from the bar.



Batology

What’s a year, anyway? An empty span of watching-waiting, when I put it like that. Really, time has been the colors you taught me blending into each other on the palette, until it’s a muddy, bloody mess. Sulfur tufted, yellow-bellied, blue and bruised and worse. You turned green to gold to inevitable rust. Red was the parasite on the bramble and the cold blood under the poison newt’s skin. It was the wild color of my disappointment, and the vivid taste when I bit my tongue these past few months, these whole eternal, prickled, years.


I don’t know how to tell you this except to come right out and say it, but tumblr, I was cheating on you … with reddit. It was a weird time. I can’t explain it, really. Suffice it to say, as a result of the time I put in I’ve been asked to be a...

I don’t know how to tell you this except to come right out and say it, but tumblr, I was cheating on you … with reddit. It was a weird time. I can’t explain it, really. Suffice it to say, as a result of the time I put in I’ve been asked to be a moderator of the slime mold subreddit. It’s early yet, but I’ll say this is easily the most charming honor I’ve received in 2015. If none of this makes any sense to you, you either don’t know what reddit is, you don’t know what slime molds are, or you don’t know anything about me.


2014 Year in Review: December

Papa Pete came out to visit me in the Bay. We ate some great food (Brown Sugar Kitchen, why you taste so good?).  There was a bluegrass jam out in the Richmond where my dad met another autoharp player. And we spent a lot of time discussing the horrific pattern of police brutality perpetrated against people of color in this country, which is pretty goddamn important. I’m grateful my dad raised me to be aware of injustice and oppression in our society.

On a lighter note, one day I took him to the Tilden Botanic Garden to see some local wildlife like these Taricha torosa, California newts. It happens to be California newt mating season, and I know a spot where they’re easy to find, doing their thing. Here is a video of my dad contemplating the unseen undersea and just, really, nailing it, somehow. Yes, this was previously posted to my Instagram, but it’s simply too delightful to not share it here.


2014 Year in Review: November
I fled the country with two dear Olde Reed friends and headed down to Baja California, Mexico. We spent Thanksgiving trailblazing in the desert, then washed off our sweat at a rock beach with the most intense riptide...

2014 Year in Review: November

I fled the country with two dear Olde Reed friends and headed down to Baja California, Mexico. We spent Thanksgiving trailblazing in the desert, then washed off our sweat at a rock beach with the most intense riptide I’ve ever felt. From the shore you could hear the stones loudly squibbling and clinking down over one another, dragged out to sea. The shoreline became steeper and steeper as rocks were pulled away. No choice but to grab the biggest boulder you could find and hold on for dear life, and laugh like a maniac as the waves tried to take you.

On the Thanksgiving menu: tortillas with cotija cheese, refried beans, and a liberal sprinkle of lime, a hearty bonfire, and local red wine. 


2014 Year in Review: September
Moss Landing, California. I took a selfie with a humpback whale.
…
Last January I started taking ecology classes at the local community college, for fun, for edification, because I want to be a person who never stops...

2014 Year in Review: September

Moss Landing, California. I took a selfie with a humpback whale.

Last January I started taking ecology classes at the local community college, for fun, for edification, because I want to be a person who never stops learning. Maybe because I’m good at school and after a few years in the working world, I wanted a reminder that’s there’s something that makes me feel like an unqualified success.

My first class was Natural History of the Coast Redwoods. I made a new friend in that class. Both of use were nature n00bs; curious, but unschooled, dipping our toes into the world of ecology, gingerly. Since then, we’ve been hiking, camping, and drinking buddies.

I took this photo during my second semester of ecology classes. That semester, I took two courses, including one on the mammals of California, which afforded me the opportunity to snap this preposterous selfie. This semester, I’m taking four classes. I was planning taking five, then remembered that I might want to have a life sometime between now and the end of May. 

I’m not sure what all the learning is leading up to, really. I have some romantic notions of joining the forest service, and spending long days in the quiet company of trees. Who knows how realistic that dream is, or if I’d even like the prospect if I were closer to it. Hell, I’ve only recently begun writing these thoughts down as if they are possible-real things, not just fleeting-misty things, far far off on the horizon. 


2014 Year in Review: September

The scenery got all majestic up in Alaska. The light and air started doing beautiful, slanty things with the rainforest and the fjords. I hiked up a mountain in Juneau that was teeming with life: mushrooms, spruce, and bald eagles. The sunlight there could be its own living creature. At the top of the mountain, there was a bar: right on, Alaska. And then there was this glacier- like an entire mountain, but made out of ice- and I walked on it. It’s pushing down on itself with so much pressure that it melts itself, and spits out a river underneath its own belly. That water is full of finely ground rocks that have been pulverized into silt by the pressure and friction of the glacier. The particles are finer than sand; you can’t see the silt, but it makes the water glow a weird jade. Everything is alive, and glowing.

On the boat, I mostly refilled my travel mug with hot chocolate at the 24-hour cafe spiked with flask whiskey, and drunkenly schooled all the old broads at trivia, because I am a champ.


2014 Year in Review: August
I bend time and space-needle.

2014 Year in Review: August

I bend time and space-needle.


2014 Year in Review: July

My friend Lou from Oakland and I went to New York. We stayed at Chateau Scheiner, which remains well-appointed and stimulating as ever, as evident in the video, above. 

Besides this clip, I have no photos to prove I was in NYC. Luckily, I have a few memories:

  • James Nord buying me my first citibike ride.
  • NPH as Hedwig on Broadway- so much diva!
  • Eating my way through the nations of the world, via Astoria Blvd.
  • Sweltering heat. 
  • Torrential downpours with lightning. 
  • Getting my friends and family together for a BBQ at Chateau Scheiner HQ: four generations of Scheiners, plus friends from pre-K, to Olde Reed, to Oakland, all in one backyard. Not a bad way to cap off a solid vacation.

2014 Year in Review: May
I’m only 30 once, so I figured I might as well do some ridiculous shit, like spend way too much money on a birthday cake. It’s no Fudgie the Whale, but it did the trick. I cut pieces and gave them away to strangers on the...

2014 Year in Review: May

I’m only 30 once, so I figured I might as well do some ridiculous shit, like spend way too much money on a birthday cake. It’s no Fudgie the Whale, but it did the trick.  I cut pieces and gave them away to strangers on the street. Shout out to that one guy on the 51 bus who hit the “open back door” button and grabbed a slice while the bus was stopped at a red light. 


2014 Year in Review: March
I climbed 200 feet up into an old growth coast redwood (Sequoia sempervirens).
Years ago my dad bought me a book called The Wild Trees by Richard Preston about a weirdo Olde Reedie who was the first to climb into the canopy...

2014 Year in Review: March

I climbed 200 feet up into an old growth coast redwood (Sequoia sempervirens). 

Years ago my dad bought me a book called The Wild Trees by Richard Preston about a weirdo Olde Reedie who was the first to climb into the canopy of redwood trees. The book describes how it was done (no small feat), and what was found up there (spoiler alert: previously undocumented ecosystems!). Ever since, I’ve wanted to learn how to tree climb with ropes, to see what I could see. This year, I got the chance, and it was exhilarating.

Now that I live in California, redwoods have a special place in my heart. They’re magnificent, majestic beasts, and ancient. This tree was a youngster (clocking in at 800 years old) compared to other old growth trees known to be upwards of 3,000. They’re also symbols of the area that I’ve come to love: this narrow foggy belt, just back from the ocean, nestled against the hills. We’re in the same ecosystem, me and those trees. Being up in their branches helped me feel like I understood them even better.