Opinion: I've never dived into a dumpster to rescue food. I'm not saying I wouldn't. I have, after all, been apprehended snaffling bread from the food bucket intended for my pigs. I've also disregarded use-by dates and I'm not unwilling to use the phrase "Are you finished with that?" when
Te Radar: Pigfood or soup?
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Wasted food makes Te Radar's blood boil. Photo / Getty Images
Many people immediately suggested that the real crime here is the sheer volume of food wasted on a daily basis. The UN estimates that up to a third of food produced for human consumption is wasted. On average New Zealand households throw out $458 worth of food every year. That's at least a week's groceries for a family of four.
Those statistics remind me that I really must get rid of those aging kiwifruit currently in my fridge. And those carrots. And that zucchini.
It's not just the food that doesn't make it to the plate that's squandered. To halt restaurant waste some establishments have instigated a surcharge for people who don't eat all the food they order.
I'm hoping this doesn't catch on here, or indeed in the US, where I've been served meals of inhuman proportions. They were more than ample for two, and I would have shared them but they then sting you with a "sharing" fee. I had no need to season those meals. The salty tears of my despair at such wanton waste did that.
Little wonder there are entire movements of people adept at reclaiming food that would otherwise be dumped.
Many people I know who venture into this territory on a regular basis are more than able to afford food, yet choose to skip dive as an economic and political statement. I suspect they also love the thrill of the furtive foraging.
Philanthropic folk are also industriously re-routing the vast torrent of perfectly edible food from the wastestream, and distributing it to those who couldn't otherwise afford it.
Volunteering with Wellington group Kaibosh, I was astounded to see that the food they diverted from the waste stream was of a better quality than what came from my garden. But when people are paying top dollar they demand perfect produce, which they can then take home and forget about in the fridge.
Why did I raid the pig's bin? It was neither an economic nor a political act. I just wanted some bread, and at that stage the pigs were eating far better than I was. I felt content knowing that eventually I would be eating them, and if their diet was anything to go by they were going to taste fantastic. And they did. From nose to tail they were delectable. Not a mouthful was wasted.
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