While living with my parents, I noticed my dad buys enough groceries every week to feed an army. I became so used to opening a huge jar of peanut butter or rummaging through three refrigerators well stocked with food. It's like a mini-supermarket, we never run out of fruits and vegetables.
When we moved out one year ago, I stocked up our pantry with essential items. This morning, I threw out a jar of half-finished peanut butter, Nutella and some jams. Though they have not expired, they are no longer fresh after lying around for a year. We've not been eating fast enough.
The half-eaten box of cornflakes and Koko Crunch got tossed into the bin. We've only used half a box of pancake mix, so that will have to go too. I made SK drink the last sachet of Milo this morning. I can't imagine it took us one whole year to finish 12 sachets.
If I dig deeper into the cabinet, I'll be able to find dried mushrooms, different kinds of flour, sauces and canned food that had sat in the dark for far too long.
For some reason, having a small kitchen that is tucked away in one corner of the house (compared to my parent's large open-concept kitchen) discourages eating. I don't find the boys rummaging through the fridge for things to eat. It takes us ages to finish a loaf of bread or a block of cheese. A small bunch of bananas may sit there for days until they turn black.
Nowadays I've learned to buy jams and peanut butter that come in tiny sizes. The entrepreneur in me is already thinking of setting up a shop that sells everything in small packages to cater for people like us.
More people are living alone and families are getting smaller. We have more choices and are eating less of everything, I believe this will help to reduce wastage. I don't want to end up eating blackened bananas or peanut butter that has gone rancid.
My friend in UK was telling me about his aged father who lives alone in the countryside. His early morning ritual is to walk to the neighbourhood grocer to buy one potato, a tomato or whatever he fancies. The grocer frowns and says he only sells by the pound but the old guy doesn't give a hoot. He just pays and go. Well, he has lived there all his life, so they oblige. But really, what's he going to do with a whole bag of tomatoes?