Dana Artz
Free food is one of the perks of being a waitress. When the kitchen cooks the wrong order, I consider it my moral responsibility to grab a few harried forkfuls between waiting tables. It seems criminal to throw out a slightly salty lobster bisque. However, I can only eat so many cold omelets, over-cooked fish or even untouched peach tortes. Like most American waitresses, I throw out small mountains of food every shift. Swedish waitresses don’t face this dilemma.
Recently, I ate in the garden caf? of the Carl Mille Sculpture museum and chatted with the museum’s director. With the same pride that he had used to describe Mille’s world famous sculptures, the director explained how all garden and food waste from the museum grounds and caf? is composted. The resulting compost, a nutrient-rich soil amendment, is used in the museum’s flower gardens and to grow herbs for the caf?. As a waitress and an environmentalist, I was delighted to get a tour of the high-tech composting facility tucked into the back of a small greenhouse near the caf?. I ended up spending nearly as much time looking at the clever composting system as I did looking at bronzes of naked Greek heroes.
Restaurant workers know the disgusting truth about “dish pits.” The dining rooms may have starched linen napkins folded into sculptural displays but most dish pits have their share of moldy salad and soggy fries in hard-to-reach corners. Even when kitchen and dining wastes make a swift trip to the restaurant dumpster, spills and smells are generally the rule. The museum’s conveniently located composter never needs scrubbing, didn’t stink, and, instead of adding to the museum’s operating costs, produces a product the museum had previously needed to purchased.
Enjoying what is perhaps a lower standard of living; American’s produce 4.5 pounds of household waste per person per day – about twice as much household waste as Swedes produce. Most of this “waste” doesn’t have to be wasted – it can be avoided (most of us would be better off if we ordered smaller servings), reused, or recycled back into the economy instead of burned and land filled. Much of an average homeowner’s “waste” can be composted. Burning and land filling aren’t great choices. Incineration spews pollutants, carbon dioxide and other global warming and acid rain ingredients into the air. Land fills are a different pile of problems – expensive to build, maintain and contain, they eventually leak toxics into groundwater and produce methane gas as organic material decomposes. Like carbon dioxide, methane is a global warming gas but, molecule for molecule, methane is 23 times more insulating than carbon dioxide. Composting doesn’t produce methane, keeping our summer nights comfortably cool, and compost revitalizes the soil, supporting new life.
The museum garden was beautiful and it was inspiring to see a small restaurant take a big step toward a better future. I wanted to support their effort so I splurged on an expensive blueberry cheesecake and tea. I left only the teabag and mint leaf garnish to be composted.
The next day I went to a McDonald’s in downtown Stockholm. They were composting too! Not on-site but signs on the walls encouraged customers to sort waste into three bins – one for plastic, one for waste and one for compostables. According to the signs, happy meals boxes are compostable. Who woulda known?
The Swedes have proven that change is possible. By 2010 they plan to compost 35 percent of all organic waste from homes and 100 percent of suitable wastes from food processing industries and restaurants.
I envy Swedish waitresses. Work would be better if I didn’t end each shift on hands and knees scrubbing out dish pits and trash cans. I also envy Swedish children. They have the promise of growing up breathing cleaner air because there will be fewer incinerators burning less hazardous trash. If enough of us support similar efforts to compost or reduce the amount of food we waste in our communities we can slow global warming and offer a better future to our own children. That’s a future I want for myself and one I intend to work to create for my children. In the meantime, I might just treat myself to another cheesecake. Who said leading a more sustainable life couldn’t be fun?