Tired of the heaping trash can and paper towel waste in your kitchen and the spoiled food in your fridge? We've been there, too. Welcome part two of The Low-Waste Kitchen, a series from food writer and avid home cook Sarah Karnasiewicz, who shares reality-tested strategies for cutting back on kitchen waste in the real world. Check out part oneright here.
Last year, my family began making an effort toreduce our household waste, and I started thinking about how I could adopt some more mindful kitchen habits. Many of the changes we’ve since made—like always carryingreusable shopping bagsandswapping out disposable lunch containers and bagsfor cloth, glass, and stainless steel—were easy to implement. But it wasn't long into our low-waste journey before I realized that our paper towel addiction might be a trickier nut to crack.
Without really thinking about it, over the years (and especially after becoming parents—sooooo many sticky fingers and spills!) my husband and I had become utterly dependent on that omnipresent roll on our counter. How serious was our habit? Let’s just say that every time we found our under-the-sink stash unexpectedly empty, it triggered a sprint to the 99-cent store and a minor panic attack.
I knew that in the grand scheme of wasteful household habits, this particular vice was a minor offense — after all, lots of paper towels are compostable (as long as they’re not soiled with chemical cleaners or grease) and arguably, it takes just much water to produce a roll of paper towels as it does to wash an equivalent amount ofreusable ones.
Still, there are other sorts of waste besides the environmental kind. Each roll of Bounty my family tore through was setting us back a couple of bucks, and that money was never coming back. Plus, it struck me that robotically reaching for a paper towel every time one of us needed to dry our hands or wipe a drip flew in the face of the Earth-friendly mindfulness we were supposedly trying to cultivate.