Happy Wastegiving?

A few years ago, my husband and I were waiting for our dinner to arrive in a Thai restaurant, when a movement at the next table caught my eye. An older couple was finishing up their meal. The man was settling the check, and the woman was fishing two plastic containers out of her purse. She shoveled their leftovers into the containers, wrapped them in a reused plastic bag (also from her purse), and proudly carted her DIY doggy bag out of the restaurant.

I felt embarrassed for them. Who could be so penurious as to bring their own doggy bag to the restaurant? Couldn't they just enjoy the meal? Was it really so wasteful to use a restaurant's takeout boxes for your leftovers?

"Let's not ever become those people," I told my husband.

Of course, the scene wouldn't have bothered me save that I could easily see us becoming that couple. We were both raised in Christian families by parents who taught us the values of thrift and stewardship that we gratefully practice to this day. Another way of putting this: There are jokes about people of both our ethnic backgrounds being cheap.

I married a wonderful man who will put even two spoonfuls of leftover macaroni and cheese in a tiny container in the fridge. That container will then, sometimes, migrate to the back of the fridge and begin sprouting colorful mold flowers. This is not all bad. For one thing, a full refrigerator uses energy more efficiently than an empty one. But it shows how, despite best thrifty intentions, food waste happens.

Americans waste more than 40 percent of the food we produce, according to American Wasteland, a new book by journalist Jonathan Bloom. When one in seven households suffer from food insecurity—meaning you don't know where your next meal is coming from—this wastage is more than something your Great Depression-surviving grandma would tsk-tsk about. It's bad stewardship.

The reasons for waste are complicated, spanning from our vast farmland to my tiny container of moldy mac-and-cheese, and Bloom's book and blog dive into those reasons. They also offer suggestions of how we can reduce that waste (maybe you don't need to peel that carrot) with a refreshing lack of guilt and shame, celebrating creative thriftiness in a ways that would do the Proverbs 31 woman proud.

Since it's not exactly the easiest time of year to start a compost pile or go dumpster diving, here are a few novice suggestions as you prepare to celebrate and give thanks for God's abundance this Thanksgiving.

1. Pick up a few extra freezer storage containers at the store. If you're anything like me, you've lost a few due to accidental microwave casualties—now's a good time to restock. (Or if you've got too many, wash out the ones that have been gathering dust.)

1. Clear out some space in the freezer and fridge. Those frost-bitten green beans from months ago can go in your green bean casserole. That weird-tasting jam from your neighbor three Christmases ago? It can go in the compost. Check out Still Tasty to see how long your food has stayed good.
2. Once you've carved the turkey, throw the carcass along with the veggie scraps lying around your messy Thanksgiving kitchen (okay maybe that's just me) into a big pot of water. Simmer it while you watch football, or play football in the backyard, or whatever it is you do after eating, and you have yourself some stock, which is useful in, like, every recipe ever (if you have a good stock recipe, share it below!).
3. Consider giving to efforts to advocate for better food stewardship. I like Bread for the World, a Christian organization that helps churches act to end hunger in the U.S. and around the world. But you may have a different organization (share suggestions below) or you may want to give to your local food bank.

You're probably doing all this and more. You might even be the lady who proudly brings her own Tupperware to a restaurant. If so, I salute you. I haven't become that lady just yet. But lately, I've been thinking she's someone I might aspire to be.

What do you do to practice good food stewardship? Share your ideas below—especially if they involve what I can do with the giant, aging stalk of celery in my fridge.

Hannah Faith Notess is the editor of Jesus Girls: True Tales of Growing Up Female and Evangelical, a collection of personal essays, and managing editor of Seattle Pacific University's Response magazine. She is also a contributor to The Spirit of Food: 34 Writers on Fasting and Feasting Toward God, and has written for Her.meneutics about Eat Pray Love and Disney princesses.