I’ve always loved catching up with friends and family over a meal out. Not only is it a chance to find out the latest gossip and what everyone’s up to, but it’s also an opportunity to try out new foods and share that experience together.
But looking back, I’ve realised that I’ve been guilty of contributing to food waste by leaving meals unfinished. Sometimes, I didn’t realise how big portions would be or I’d get so focused on chatting to everyone that I would forget to eat everything until it was time to go.
Just before the pandemic, I decided things had to change and started taking my own takeaway box with me. It debuted at my yearly birthday afternoon tea with friends. I wanted to get my money’s worth and bring my dessert home, as I had always struggled to finish off my puddings...
I’ve always loved catching up with friends and family over a meal out. Not only is it a chance to find out the latest gossip and what everyone’s up to, but it’s also an opportunity to try out new foods and share that experience together.
But looking back, I’ve realised that I’ve been guilty of contributing to food waste by leaving meals unfinished. Sometimes, I didn’t realise how big portions would be or I’d get so focused on chatting to everyone that I would forget to eat everything until it was time to go.
Just before the pandemic, I decided things had to change and started taking my own takeaway box with me. It debuted at my yearly birthday afternoon tea with friends. I wanted to get my money’s worth and bring my dessert home, as I had always struggled to finish off my puddings. I’d also read how 1.05bn tonnes of food was wasted in a year and this was my chance to do something small.
Growing up in a vegetarian Gujarati Jain Kenyan-Indian family, leaving food on your plate – whether you were out for dinner or at home – was unthinkable. Waste simply wasn’t an option. Anything left over would be taken home for the next day’s lunch or repurposed into a new dish. It didn’t matter what it was. My parents worked multiple jobs for us to be able to afford this food, so we understood and appreciated it had to be eaten.
Dhruti Shah, at a Beauty and the Beast-themed afternoon tea. Photograph: Courtesy of Dhruti Shah
For some weird reason, if I was out with friends, it was a different story. Maybe I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. I don’t drink alcohol or eat meat – I didn’t want to break even more conventions in these social settings, so I suppose I was trying to fit in.
Now, my little box goes everywhere with me, whether it’s a meal out, a work function or even an overseas event. I’ve had to overcome the embarrassment of saying I’d like to take the food home and that I’ve got my own box. The staff are usually very accommodating and it’s a bit of a conversation starter; sometimes diners at the neighbouring tables become intrigued and we start chatting. It makes me happy that I’m helping the planet in my own way and I want to show my appreciation for those who create the food by not leaving it behind. As a freelancer, I’ve also got to be careful with how I spend my money.
My friend Lorna always laughs when I reach into my bag at the end of one of our lunches or dinners out together as she knows exactly what’s about to happen. Other friends are also starting to bring their own box to restaurants, inspired by mine. We’re even sharing our pictures and tips about what to do with the food the next day in our group chat.
For me, this change isn’t just about reducing food waste but also understanding it’s OK to be different in social environments. I can ask to take my food home with me and nobody minds. And it makes me proud that I’m following in the footsteps of my ever resourceful parents. My friends and I are creating our own mini movement, reducing food waste one box at a time.