Like many parents, my dad would encourage me not to waste food by saying: “There are starving children in Africa who would appreciate that.”
And to prove his humanity towards starving people, he’d take me to the Wimpy Bar, point out of the window and up at the sky and shout “look, a dead pigeon!” – it took me years to figure it out – and, whilst I looked upwards towards the sky, he’d steal my chips. “At least they weren’t wasted” he’d say.
Years later, Bob Geldof took up the cause of the starving Africans by hosting concerts and other fundraising events and, as a perverse consequence, people who started to donate money and food then became blasé about wasting a few peas on their plate because their conscience was clear.
But I still become regularly annoyed with people who leave or waste food but maybe not for the same empathetic reasons as my dad and Bob.
It’s simply because I’d rather eat than scrape a food filled dirty plate and put my hand in a washing up bowl full of gunky gravy or empty a bean-filled plastic food waste disposal thing.
I’m just not one for getting unnecessarily dirty. It’s just more hygienic to eat everything, really.
My girlfriend wastes a lot of food but with annoying good intention.
Like many people, she regularly throws food away because she’s a slave to the use by dates on food packaging and doesn’t want to get ill.
To which I will always use this argument…
If I go to the pub one night, come back and cook and eat a pizza one second before midnight, I’m fine. If I eat it at one second past midnight and technically, now past it’s use by date, it’s now gonna make me ill. So, are you saying my food went bad on the stroke of midnight? How does that actually happen?
I think we should be told…
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Russ Writes 
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