Dive! The Film - Living Off America's Waste

In this documentary, Jeremy Seifert takes a close look at our society’s shameful habit of wasting 1/2 the food we produce. Following a group of L.A. Freegans, we see the astonishing amount of food that’s thrown into supermarket dumpsters every night. This food is salvaged to feed their family and friends as well as provide donations to organizations working with the poor. Their efforts are noble, but dumpster diving is inevitably dependent on the inefficient capitalist system that allows so much unnecessary waste. So the question we are left with is: how do we become a society with empty dumpsters?

Jeremy questions why more excess food isn’t transported directly to those who need it most. His persistent attempts to get answers from supermarket officials go unanswered. Although the Trader Joe’s website claimed they prefer to speak with people face-to-face (their FAQ section has since been changed), not a single person was willing to discuss the tremendous amount of good food found in their dumpsters.

Screen Shot from Film

 I was astonished by this lack of transparency from a company that provides a considerable amount of information about the products on their shelves. When Trader Joe’s finally acknowledged Jeremy’s letter-a-day the response was very defensive, stating, “TJ’s stores across the country donate food that they feel is safe to eat 7 days a week.” The question becomes, how and why is certain food deemed ‘unsafe’ when it’s sustained a community of people for years without causing illness? It’s likely that these standards are somewhat arbitrary, and the real issue is laziness. It’s easier for food stores to send unsold products to landfills than to carefully sift through goods and salvage all that is truly safe for consumption. By the same token, if purchasing food is within ones means, it’s easy to turn a blind eye while this issue persists.

         Gleaning food definitely presents logistical challenges. The hard work of dumpster diving was written all over the exasperated face of Jeremy’s wife. Though she appreciates the literal fruits of his labor, she admits to dreading the mornings when the kitchen is filled with food that needs to be sifted through and washed. Surprisingly enough, the work involved for Jeremy to recover more food for more people was far less taxing. In this instance, he called one Trader Joe’s store directly and asked to take their excess food after New Years Eve. The store agreed, allowing Jeremy to come through the front door and pick up 6 shopping carts worth of food, which he then donated to the Salvation Army.

With one simple call, Jeremy found a sweet spot between corporate donations and lone dumpster divers where the most productive gleaning was possible. The objective now is to broaden that space for effective action. Why this single store was willing to open their doors and reduce food waste while the corporate head quarters refused to even speak on the matter is a mystery. Nevertheless, Jeremy’s collaboration with this store is a seed of hope for the future without food waste. A future in which executives let down their guards, acknowledge the problem and use their influence to make large scale changes. A future where gleaners aren’t forced to use subversive tactics to do something just. The secret is already out – a lot of good food is feeding landfills instead of hungry people. Jeremy’s success in this instance is admirable, but it is still a band-aid solution for a broken system. The more people willing to engage in this conversation on various levels of the food system, the greater chance there is of becoming a society with empty dumpsters.

Beware the Supermarketing!

I began this jaunt through the Internet with an article on applied strategies for food waste prevention in supermarkets, restaurants and homes. I started reading with high spirits, but was quickly brought back to my pessimistic world view when I reached a description of the "Pile em high watch em fly" philosophy which reasons that people are enticed by large displays of food, especially when placed towards the entrance because it gives the illusion of a "deal." This strategy was rececently abandoned by Stop&Shop because it lead to more produce spoiling, which, when seen by customers is more of a deterrent than bait. (Go figure.)  

Entirely distracted from optimistic case studies in this article, I was compelled to find out how else the super market goliaths are manipulating consumers to buy more. I discovered that the "pile em’ high watch em’ fly" philosophy is just the tip of the iceberg. Grocery stores intricate marketing strategies are both appalling and explicable at once. It’s upsetting in the way that all marketing is: this external force embeds a craving deep enough such that you’ll act on it, but covert enough such that you think it arouse organically. Given the ubiquitous nature of marketing, its understandable that any establishment with an abundance of products will pull out all the stops. Especially when the customer base is secured because their products, unlike most, are necessary purchases.

Yes, we will inevitably spend money at the grocery store, but clever product placement will have you spending more than is necessary, and likely waste more too.  Rather than make you feel as undermined and manipulated as I did after learning their schemes, I’ll try to put a positive spin on my findings. Here are some helpful tips to see past the marketing ploys and give you the most control over your shopping experience:

1)   Bring a list and stick to it! It’s common knowledge, but for the sake of making this list comprehensive, it must be said. 

2)   Eat before you shop.  For me, impulse buys are typically post-shopping snacks (chips, dried seaweed, chocolate covered something or other). Avoid these purchases with a full belly.

3)   Plug in and tune out. Normally, I frown upon disengaging from public spheres, but this time is different. If you’re alone, listen to something that’ll get your adrenaline pumping! Some hard-hitting beats will motivate you to move through your list quickly.   

4)   Mothers: Distract your child! While I don’t have a child of my own, I still remember being one at the grocery store. I waited patiently until we neared the end of our trip, then look up at my mother with pleading eyes and asked, “Can I have a treat?” Some kids aren’t so well mannered, and when the right kind of snack crosses his eye (which it WILL) queue: hysterics. Know that the danger zone is kids eye level. So come prepared with a snack from home or something shinny to divert attention and help avoid unnecessary spending, and tantrums.

5)   Consider those coupons. You might save money now, but that money could end up in the trash if spent on food that you won’t eat before the expiration date. Remember: a penny saved is a penny earned.

6)   Lastly, staples. You might notice that eggs and dairy are never in the most convenient locations. Always pushed to the perimeter, giving you no choice but to navigate through aisles of tempting nonsense. By purchasing these items at the end of your trip, you can ovoid impulse buys and your time sensitive food will be marginally fresher! WIN-WIN!

Eating With Our Eyes

Don't judge a book by its cover...an apple by its skin, a carrot by its shape or lettuce by its color. Its this tendency to judge food quality based on aesthetics that accounts for a significant amount of our food waste. In the UK about 20-40% of fruits and vegetables are rejected by supermarkets because they don't meet strict cosmetic standards. If its not a health concern, is there any validity to these superficial assessments?


In a sense, yes. Studies have shown that visual stimuli can influence our perception of taste. The stronger the correlation between, a certain color or texture of food and a desirable taste, the more these visual queues can alter perceived flavor. These superficial assesments govern our decision of what produce to purchase at the grocery store.


Consumers aren't entirely to blame - cosmetic filtering of food begins at the source. Farmers can only sell crops that meet government issued standards based on size, color, weight, blemish level, and Brix (the measure for sugar content). What doesn't make the cut is either diverted to animal feed or the landfill. Take for instance the carrot quality standards set by supermarket chain, Asada. For his book,”Waste: Uncovering the Global Food Scandal” , Tristram Stewart (seen in video previously posted) visited several farms in England who supply produce for this chain. One of which was M.H. Poskitt Carrots in Yorkshire. He learned that carrots must pass a pretty rigorous screening test to be cleared for sale to the supermarket. No, literally, a screening test. The carrots pass under a photographic sensor to test for aesthetic defects. If the carrots are not brigh enough, or bent, or blemished they are swept off to a livestock feed container. The farmers were told that, “all carrots should be straight, so customers can peel the full length in one easy stroke” (Stuart, 2009). This requirement seems ridiculous out of context, but it speaks to the sort of snap judgements consumers make when presented with two brands of carrots. People will most likely choose the more symmetrical carrots after making a subcoucious assessment that they're more convenient to cook with.

The food I’m talking about has all the same vitamins and nutrients as their prettier counterparts. In fact, the blemished produce could be more nutritious. The point is, its all edible, just not *sellable.* Even after the food is purchased, we continue to hold these prejudices against food that does not meet our (at times) arbitrary standards of freshness. So your apple has a bruise - big deal. Is it poisoned? No, you're not Snow White. Are there raser blades stuck inside? No, its not Halloween in the 70's. OK, so its pretty unlikely to be life threatening. Just slice off the bruise or eat around it, problem solved. You might be thinking this problem is minute detail in the scheme of things, but when you're presented with *defective* produce isn't that what it boils down to? Menial tasks can be so burdensome and I cant deny that humans are predisposed to set an aesthetic standard for food. My point is that its entirely possible to disregard that visceral reaction and go against the grain by choosing the produce that others would turn their noses up at.

Composting Made Easy

Recently my house significantly cut down our food waste by signing up for this program called Bootstrap Compost. If you live in the greater Boston area and you're hesitant to start composting because you think it'll be a smelly hassle, Bootsrap makes it easy! They give you a bucket (with a smell-suppressing lid) and twice a month they'll pick it up from your door and give you a fresh bucket. Simple as that! PLUS, a few months after your first deposit, Boostrap gives back some of your contribution in the form of usable compost that you can feed to your plants. And if you dont want compost dirt they'll donate your share to a local school or garden that does. 

Still not sold? Consider this: you probably recycle (to some extent) in your home. A lot of people do nowadays. In fact, recycling has increased by 10% since 1990 - not such a big whoop, but its progress...sort of - while 62% of paper is recycled only 2% of food waste is composted or otherwise recycled (as of 2011). That's pretty shameful. If we can get on board with saving cardboard (and we all know breaking down boxes is kind of a nuisance) surely we can handle putting food scraps in a bucket. 

WASTE WATCHER ON HIGH ALERT! Its time to make moves.

Hi there! You might've noticed I've been gone for a while - sorry to leave you hanging. 

Now that I've crawled out of the woodworks, I'll do my best to make up for lost time. Here's a clever commercial released in the EU about food waste (also kind of a metaphor for my blog inactivity):

In the US, wer're used to seeing PSA's with messages like "Give More" paired with images depicting  consequences of our inaction (a hungry child, an abused animal.) We all know those commercials that really tug at your heart strings, the ones you can only bear watching for a couple seconds before promptly changing the channel.
Well, this commercial takes the opposite approach by depicting the idle culprit. Its interesting that many of the actors bear expressions much like that of the sedentary viewer watching this commercial. It quite literally, "hits home"by using images of people in or around their houses. What's more, I can actually sit through the entire thing.
This is how pretty much every other American commercial is structured - make the viewer identify with the people on screen. And those seem to be effective selling products. So why not use this model to raise awareness for social issues?

"Free Food" or "Garbage"? Seeing Past the Framing Effect

  I wasn't down with dumpster diving at first. It had nothing to do with food quality - I ate dumpster food without a second thought. Plus, I've ingested my fair share of unhealthy substances. It was the act of dumpster diving that really freaked me out. Dumpsters I’m familiar with are pretty much roach motels and I generally shy away from chance encounters with vermin. I imagined ripping open a bag and releasing a soupy river of moldy food and mysterious liquids. My mind was fretted with such gross hypotheticals, which all seem ridiculous now that I’ve seen the reality (and to be honest, that dumpster was cleaner than some college dorm rooms I’ve been in.)


 Before I could bring myself to go dumpster diving, I'd just help with post-dive tasks like sorting and washing food. Some mornings I’d wake up to find flowers hanging to dry, a fridge stocked with veggies, and bowls filled with fruit - all as if by magic. It didn't matter that the flowers were dying and the food had blemishes because it came at no cost. Well, no monetary cost. I had an idea of the labor involved, and I couldn't bring myself to engage.  It took a few nights of seeing my housemates return from excursions in the dead of winter shivering from head to toe before the guilt finally caved in. I could no longer reap the spoils without facing my fear: divin' down n' getting dirty in a dumpster.

It might seem strange that I had no problem eating dumpster food, but was so averse to dumpster diving. Or maybe not so strange when you think of the fact that omnivores have no problem eating meat, but few are willing to slaughter an animal. Sometimes mentally separating food from its source makes it more palatable. The dumpster diving case isn't quite parallel to eating meat because from cow to steak a number of “transformations” take place, whereas food that travels from to dumpster kitchen is identical. My initial qualm with dumpster diving was related to this idea of the Framing Effect. When presented with identical options, the context in which each is presented creates the illusion of a superior option. For instance, a glass half full is more appealing than a glass half empty, or a ton of feathers sounds lighter than a ton of rocks.

When it comes to dumpster diving, “free food,” sounds a lot better than “food from a dumpster” because the later frame comes attached with a slew of food taboos. The social convention is that things placed in the garbage become garbage (i.e. dirty, non-functional, and worthless), but dumpster divers know better. They see a free source of nutritious sustenance (much of the waste I’ve encountered are fruits and vegetables) that would otherwise become landfill. I could see the advantages, but couldn’t reconcile them with the social stigma engrained in my mind. So for a while I made a conscious effort to separate the two notions, seeing the food my housemates returned with as simply “free” and “nutritious” not that stuff deemed “unfit for consumption.” I was so worried that participating in dumpster diving would heighten my disgust and I’d see the process as degrading.

Luckily that wasn’t the case.  I’ll go into further detail about my first dumpster dive in another post, but suffice it say that I learned to reject the social taboos rather than consider them more valid. Scrounging for food in that dumpster felt respectable, not shameful. Because honestly, between a system that generates heaps on unnecessary waste and a community of people salvaging that waste, where should the stigma lie? 

The Taste of Place - WIll U.S. consumers care about terroir?

Amy Trubek's Taste of Place explores the roles of geography and culture in creating local food flavors. The appreciation for unique, local tastes concerns the French concept terroir. Its difficult to provide a universal definition of terroir as Trubek notes, "terroir is to the French as Freedom of speech is to Americans: meanings are multiple, interpretations vary and consequences shift accordingly" (pg 94). I interpret terroir as sort of a precursor to cuisine: before the cooking style and other food preparation that characterizes a culture, there are, potentially, methods of food production (farming, tree tapping, livestock feeding etc) that reflect the terrain and traditions in which a culture is grounded. In France, terroir bears strong ties to local histories and social identity (pg 72) especially farmers efforts preserve local agrarian traditions in the face of globalization. 

Trubek goes beyond France to show the application of terroir in American contexts, particularly California wine country, a variety of local foods in Wisconsin and maple syrup in Vermont. American terroir differs from the French concept primarily because we are a relatively young country. French knowledge of local flavors developed over generations of experience growing food in particular areas. By contrast, American farmers are in the process of grasping the full potential of terrior by experimenting with different growing methods. For instance, some California farmers use biodynamic methods to bring out the fullest expression of their soils' mineral composition (pg 141). As terroir novices, American food producers who are interested in learning about the flavors of their geographic locales must gain this knowledge retroactively. This is the case for Vermont syrup producers hoping to identify the unique flavors owed to the region supporting their maple trees. Trubek extols these (and other) examples of American food-producers embracing terroir, but her case for a more taste-discerning American consumer is somewhat lacking. 

The first issue is that Trubek's only informants are farmers, chefs, and other taste-makers. She briefly addresses the fact that the vast majority of Americans know little about where their food comes from (231), especially those living in urban areas who's knowlege comes from recommendations, magaizines and cook books but rarely from personal experience or relationships. Given this remote understanding their foods source (and any superior qualities that might result therefrom) the bottom line for many American food shoppers deciding between the same food is price. To have a stronger understanding of the practical implications of terrior in America, it would be helpful to know what might incentivize consumers to consider terroir when buying groceries. 

My second source of skepticism about terroir influencing US consumers is the undeniable difference between the American palate and the (dare I say superior?) French palate. The French palate is fine-tuned to identify regional tastes from an early age. Their government makes large scale efforts to instill this knowledge by funding taste testings in public schools, where they ask young students to identify subtle flavors in different juices (67). This national effort to instill an appreciation for unique and subtle flavors contrasts with the American priority when it comes to food: consistent quality, and the subsequent tendency to choose familiar foods.  In one section, Trubek describes a taste testing of Vermont syrups. Presented with number of syrups, the testers attempted to pick out hints of terrain which add to a local flavor (250). While reading this description I thought of an interview I'd seen with Michael Moss, author of Salt Sugar Fat. He discusses this extensive, highly scientific process the Dr. Pepper company went through to identify the perfect soda flavor - just. one. flavor. And they aren't the only ones - many companies pour a gross amount of research and efforts into creating optimal artificial flavors. The juxtaposition between these multimillion dollar companies and their efforts in the way of standardization and the vermont syrup companies taste tests for the sake of differentiation is disheartening at best. Thus while terroir might be a consideration for upscale consumers who can afford locally sourced foods (and would likely pride themselves on being able to discern nuances in flavor), this concept is unlikely to influence the Average American when it comes to food purchases because most people are looking for cheap food with a familiar, pleasurable taste. This is obviously not the case for all American consumers, but the overwhelming success of companies like Doctor Pepper, Cheetos and other snack giants is hard to contest. Given the predominant food-views of US consumers, will terroir ever be truly relevant?