Fallen fruit

Determined to find a use for them, I collected a couple dozen lemons from

the lemon graveyard underneath my aunt's Meyer lemon tree in Ojai. I zested them all.  And froze what I wouldn't use that day.

I squeezed them all.  I set aside a couple cups, then poured

the remainder into three empty ice cube trays and froze them.

Once frozen, I popped them out of the trays and into baggies.

I composted the rinds.

And then using the ample amounts of zest and juice I had set aside,

I made the most delicious Meyer lemon bars.

Sweet potato pecan pie

I found myself with a can of sweet potato puree from one trash pile and a can of evaporated milk from another, neither of which I've ever really used before.  I had a frozen pie crust also from the garbage some weeks prior, so as it turns out, a pie was in order.  The pecans were leftover from a trip to Trader Joe's when my mom was in town and I mixed them with melted brown sugar and butter for a crunchy caramelized topping.  It's lovely when various ingredients from different origins just come together peachy keen like that.  Pantries are a great thing indeed.

Triangles of food and cushion

The other night while mucking about in a garbage bag, I unearthed some tasty elements from the all-important Fruits and Vegetables sector of the food pyramid: grapefruit, fennel, brussel sprouts, cucumbers, alfalfa sprouts, yellow potatoes, new potatoes, baking potatoes, tomatoes, limes, a banana, and a lemon.

The Thai triangle cushions upon which these fruits and veggies are arranged were also found curbside (some time back).  It was a moderate struggle lugging such dense pillows down from the upper west side on the subway with my camera gear in tow, but the comfort they have brought my fanny (both in the living room and as my go-to rooftop furniture) has proven well worth the effort.

With that, today's take-away is future benefit--a minute squishing my gut, a lifetime padding my butt.

Romancing the refuse

My most treasured friend Julia Turshen came over the other evening to dine with me.  I sauteed spinach and mushrooms with some flavorings that now escape me.  Julia made  a delightfully rustic pappa al pomodoro soup out of flatbread and tomatoes, and then pan roasted the tilapia filets that I had marinated in white wine, garlic, lemon and cumin.  Save for the fish, everything had been found in the garbage.  Candlelit whispers of sweet nothings ensued!

The 4Fives!

Last Monday I had the best Monday in many Mondays.  I was asked by my new friend Jackson (of the wonderblog Superforest) to come speak with his friend Bee's 4th and 5th grade class (the 4Fives), who themselves run a formidably awesome eco blog.  We spent the morning talking about trash and value and abundance, which carried us over to some freegan gifts I had bestowed upon my friend in Uganda, which segued into the documentary that I shot there, which brought us to gay rights...all of which yielded some very insightful conversation.  I was just tickled pink to make their acquaintance.

Two peas in a pod

The other day in a cold, lonely little trash corner, I spotted these guys keeping each other cozy.  What a pair!  Rick Warren is a welcome addition to my book collection on account of the Uganda documentary I'm working on, and my door is always open for Stephen Colbert--so contentment oozes from the rubbish bins once again.

All-nighter at the cinema

10 films (2 in 3D), 24 hours of entertainment, and unlimited popcorn, soda, and bragging rights for $50!

All-night events include the price of a bed!

We won a DVD and a t-shirt in the movie trivia contest!

I hungrily/thirstily await next year's AMC Best Picture Showcase.

A morning without coffee is like sleep.

The spoon, the trivet, the spice jar, the sugar cubes, the mug, the jar, the soy milk, the coffee beans, the French press.....every single element hails from another person's reject bin.  Value is a subjective thing, but sometimes that falls by the wayside in a society steeped in the dynamics of individual ownership.  For me it even still takes  a conscious moment of pause to keep from mentally writing-off an object as value-less once the value I had originally assigned to it in relation to my existence has dissipated.  In short, culturally-familiar terms: one man's trash is another man's treasure.

Get in my belly

Sometimes the food is just too good--I eat it all before I think to take a picture.  This happened when I first cooked this meal, and again with the leftovers.  It was peanut sauce with shrimp and freegan pasta, spinach, red pepper, broccoli, and onion.  I hope to show you more of it next time.

Final day of Frugan February meals

Breakfast: Scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese, grape tomatoes, spinach, pepper, and Cholula.

Lunch: Quinoa (made with organic chicken broth) with green peas and pink beans, dressed with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, cumin, dijon, and soy sauce.

Dinner: Curried tilapia on coconut rice with curried onions, broccoli, and pineapple,  with toasted flat bread.

Freegan items:  Grape tomatoes, German dark wheat bread, quinoa, green peas, balsamic vinegar, cumin, olive oil, broccoli, pineapple, coconut milk, flat bread, curry, all plates and cutlery  pictured, as well and pots, pans, and utensils used in cooking.

Purchased items: 2 eggs (38¢), a dash of hot sauce (2¢), 1/10 of a bag of frozen spinach (17¢), 1/2 can of pink beans (54¢), 1/2 onion (35¢), 1/2 filet of tilapia ($1.07) = $2.53

These were three particularly tasty meals, I anxiously await that day I rediscover the leftovers in the freezer!

Until I get my dual-flush greywater toilet...

...I will do it as my Dad has always done it.  It's the oldest trick in the water-saving book, but it's tried and true and easy peasy.  Just take a brick or some heavy object that won't rust, or take a milk jug or similar container and fill it with water so it doesn't float.  Then place it in the tank.  Whatever you put in (up until the water line) is how much water you'll displace, and therefore how much water you'll save every time you flush!  Pictured here is about a quarter gallon, so if the average person flushes the toilet about 2,500 times a year, and my two roommates and I are home maybe about half the time, this teeny tiny little action (that until yesterday I  had forgotten that I even did) saves about a thousand gallons of water a year.

It's a hoot!

So I know all about cost/benefit analysis.  And by my calculations, I am definitely in the black.  I go food "shopping" only about once a week, for maybe an hour or two.  Not only does getting my food this way take less time than slugging through the aisles and lines at Trader Joe's and Whole Foods in NYC, but it's a lot more fun, and for my friends and me it's a good chance to hang out.

A good score, be it from a residence, grocery store, or anything else, is like the most gigantic Christmas stocking ever--loads of stuff, some of which we need, some of which we don't, some saving us money on what we otherwise would buy, some allowing us to finally have what we otherwise would never buy.  And moreover, any utility we bestow upon the bounty is infinitely more than it would have otherwise had.  It's all cause for such giddiness.  And you can chat and gossip and make silly way more than when you just meet up for coffee.  Then at the end of the day, you can just have a snooze and bathe in your conquest.

Olympic sustenance

If you're allowed a leave of absence from the food pyramid for the Superbowl, then it's only fair to grant the Olympics similar treatment.  In that vein, I have prepared myself a glass of boxed red wine from New Hampshire, a mug of freegan potato soup with frozen corn and spinach, freegan flatbread with melted cheddar, freegan spaghetti with freegan marinara, freegan Lifesaver gummy candies, and a freegan soy milk frappé with freegan Nesquick, all conveniently placed on a 99¢ tray from the Christmas Tree Shop and afront the visage of one Apolo Ohno.  A night of pleasures.

Mystery ingredients

One nice thing about dumpster diving is that you never know what you're gonna get, so you end up cooking stuff you wouldn't otherwise.  Case in point: rutabaga.  I don't think I had ever even held a rutabaga in my hand until I unearthed it from the garbage bag.  But the superbowl was coming up, and I also had potatoes and ricotta from the garbage and parmesan and creme fraiche left from my roommate who moved out...so I made a slightly wonky but delicious rutabaga and potato gratin.  I also had salsa, marshmallows, and hot dogs buns left from a previous dive, so I purchased the appropriate accompaniments and had quite the last-minute superbowl feast to share with my friends--and I even watched like two  minutes of the game for good measure!

With patience comes Cinderella

This jolly face belongs to the new owner of these shoes.  I came upon the shoes in the trash bin, asked my feet to shrink, and when they didn't I threw them under the couch knowing that at some point they would find their Cinderella.  And now they have.

Good gracious, Gristedes.

Artichokes, rutabagas, mushrooms, apples, tofu, flat bread, pumpernickel bread, bread rolls, sweet potato pie, oranges, bananas, potatoes, sour cream, ricotta cheese, string cheese, cream cheese, Gobstoppers, Life Saver gummies, and oh so many Hot Tamales.

Need I say it?  From the trash bags, outside grocery store, en route to landfill.