Latest news with #sharedflat
The Guardian
3 days ago
- General
- The Guardian
The one change that worked: I grew my own vegetables – and suddenly stopped wasting food
From calendar-keeping to cooking, for years, my hyper-organised personality crept into every corner of my life. I would save Instagram recipe videos and cuttings from weekend newspapers and use them to plan shopping lists with grand ideas about midweek dinners: a white bean stew pencilled in for one night, tacos another, homemade burgers another. I was always overambitious. You would think this level of planning would translate into less food waste. But a busy routine working in London, often with last-minute events and long commutes, meant I was too tired to make anything when I came home. By Wednesday, I would fill up with shop-bought sushi or soup. More often than not, I would get to the end of the week with a fridge full of wilted ingredients, which I would quietly chuck into the food waste. I felt guilt and shame, but I was stuck in a loop. It took an audit of my spending last summer to get myself in check. During that time, I also decided to grow tomatoes in the garden of my shared flat. I was a novice gardener, but soon I became obsessed with caring for these plants. It was as if a switch had been flicked in my mind – as if it had taken the idea of growing my own food to truly understand the value and timescale of food production. I made a commitment to myself then and there to change my habits. Now, I save every last scrap of uneaten food and integrate it into my next meal: using cubes of stale bread to bulk up soups, or cracking an egg or two into a three-day-old chilli for a breakfast shakshuka. I have a container of vegetable skins in the freezer, which I'm planning to boil for stock. Quick-pickled carrots or cucumbers, with a splash of soy, are a go-to for brightening boring carbs. When I can, I'll pick up Too Good to Go boxes, which contain surplus food from local cafes, restaurants and bakeries for reduced prices, and challenge myself to make something quick and tasty from the random assortment. It's usually a soup, or 'stovies' – a Scottish dish made with boiled potatoes and whatever meat is available. I also broke the closed-minded rules I had cemented in my head about food. Fruit can go with savoury dishes, for instance – apples work well in curries, while berries add colour to a salad. I used to shy away from beige on beige, but leftover roast potatoes with garlic and spaghetti is a new favourite. A lot of this is probably obvious to most people – but for me, it has been something of a breakthrough, although not without a few flavour disasters. I've learned that Sichuan pepper and mint should be used sparingly, and that it is possible to add too much chocolate to a chilli. My way to make anything edible is to cover it in sriracha. I'm less ambitious with midweek meals now, but I'm much more creative. I have saved money and time, and will no longer wince when I open the fridge at the end of the week. It's been freeing, in a way – and has helped me embrace spontaneity in other parts of my life, such as social plans. Best of all, I've rediscovered what I loved about cooking in the first place: the joy of making something delicious out of almost nothing.
The Guardian
3 days ago
- General
- The Guardian
The one change that worked: I grew my own vegetables – and suddenly stopped wasting food
From calendar-keeping to cooking, for years, my hyper-organised personality crept into every corner of my life. I would save Instagram recipe videos and cuttings from weekend newspapers and use them to plan shopping lists with grand ideas about midweek dinners: a white bean stew pencilled in for one night, tacos another, homemade burgers another. I was always overambitious. You would think this level of planning would translate into less food waste. But a busy routine working in London, often with last-minute events and long commutes, meant I was too tired to make anything when I came home. By Wednesday, I would fill up with shop-bought sushi or soup. More often than not, I would get to the end of the week with a fridge full of wilted ingredients, which I would quietly chuck into the food waste. I felt guilt and shame, but I was stuck in a loop. It took an audit of my spending last summer to get myself in check. During that time, I also decided to grow tomatoes in the garden of my shared flat. I was a novice gardener, but soon I became obsessed with caring for these plants. It was as if a switch had been flicked in my mind – as if it had taken the idea of growing my own food to truly understand the value and timescale of food production. I made a commitment to myself then and there to change my habits. Now, I save every last scrap of uneaten food and integrate it into my next meal: using cubes of stale bread to bulk up soups, or cracking an egg or two into a three-day-old chilli for a breakfast shakshuka. I have a container of vegetable skins in the freezer, which I'm planning to boil for stock. Quick-pickled carrots or cucumbers, with a splash of soy, are a go-to for brightening boring carbs. When I can, I'll pick up Too Good to Go boxes, which contain surplus food from local cafes, restaurants and bakeries for reduced prices, and challenge myself to make something quick and tasty from the random assortment. It's usually a soup, or 'stovies' – a Scottish dish made with boiled potatoes and whatever meat is available. I also broke the closed-minded rules I had cemented in my head about food. Fruit can go with savoury dishes, for instance – apples work well in curries, while berries add colour to a salad. I used to shy away from beige on beige, but leftover roast potatoes with garlic and spaghetti is a new favourite. A lot of this is probably obvious to most people – but for me, it has been something of a breakthrough, although not without a few flavour disasters. I've learned that Sichuan pepper and mint should be used sparingly, and that it is possible to add too much chocolate to a chilli. My way to make anything edible is to cover it in sriracha. I'm less ambitious with midweek meals now, but I'm much more creative. I have saved money and time, and will no longer wince when I open the fridge at the end of the week. It's been freeing, in a way – and has helped me embrace spontaneity in other parts of my life, such as social plans. Best of all, I've rediscovered what I loved about cooking in the first place: the joy of making something delicious out of almost nothing.
The Guardian
17-07-2025
- General
- The Guardian
You be the judge: should my flatmate start using the spice rack I made?
I haven't labelled the jars, but you can just sniff each spice and work out which is which When my flatmate, Murad, and I moved into our new flat last year, I made us a spice rack. We've been friends for a few years and lived in another house before this, which wasn't as nice. The spice rack was supposed to symbolise a new beginning. After the pandemic, I got into making things with wood, and thought the spice rack would be good for the kitchen, but Murad seems to hate it. I do care more than I probably should about it, but it's because we live in a shared flat with limited space and I genuinely thought the spice rack would be a helpful, practical upgrade. I even bought matching jars and arranged everything thoughtfully. I haven't got around to labelling each jar, but I don't think it's a big deal. You can just sniff a spice to work out what it is. My sense of smell is great – maybe Murad is triggered because he can't smell things as well as me. Instead of using the rack, Murad has taken over our cupboard with shop-bought jars and packets he's picked up in every shape and size, and it's chaos. Once, when I opened the cupboard, I had cumin spill all over me because he hadn't put the lid on properly, and that was really annoying. Murad says we both need to take ownership of the way things are arranged in the shared cupboard, but it wouldn't have been me who left a jar of cumin hanging off the edge. I think his side of the cupboard is way more chaotic than my spice rack. Murad has created his own junk-shed of random spices, but his just have branded packaging. I get that Murad wants me to label things, but life got busy. Plus, as I made the spice rack, maybe he could help with decanting and labelling? Meanwhile, we could make better use of the shared cupboard space. Our kitchen is small and I don't think two sets of spices is economical. A flat isn't just a collection of solo zones, it's a compromise and requires teamwork. The rack isn't perfect, but with a little collaboration we could make it better. I want ease and functionality. I don't want to try to solve a puzzle every time I make a curry I cook almost every night and love to use spices, but Alex's rack is a mess – it has no labels and no logic, and I don't have a clue what's in each jar. I don't want to try to solve a puzzle every time I make a curry, so I buy my own spices and put them in my section of the shared cupboard. Alex says I'm taking up too much cupboard space and don't empty my old jars. He also says the spices have fallen on him and spilled everywhere when he's opened our cupboard, but that's not my fault as it's shared, so he can't blame me for all the organisation. I actually think he's hurt that I'm not using his DIY spice rack, but it's not personal. It just doesn't have everything I need and it's not clear what's what. I prefer shop-bought packaging as it actually has labels. It's not like I'm buying gold-plated saffron. It's just basic things that I use regularly. I want to know that when I reach for cumin, I'm getting cumin, not a mystery dust. I don't want to have to sniff-test every jar. Alex may think it's fun to live as if we were in a Victorian apothecary, but I think it slows everything down and makes cooking, which I actually enjoy, feel frustrating. I've brought this up before and said I'll clear out my shelf if he tidies up the spice rack. He always says, 'Oh, I'll label them soon.' But the labelling never happens. It's been months. How long am I meant to wait for the organisation to materialise? I'm happy to share store cupboard staples, but not when it means playing Russian roulette with flavour. Alex needs to get his spice rack in order before I give up my shelf space. At this point, I want ease and functionality, but his spice rack creates chaos and confusion. I cook mainly for myself, but sometimes for Alex too. If he wants delicious, flavourful food he shouldn't police where I source my spices. Should Murad use Alex's spice rack? Labelling the jars would improve their appearance and spare Murad the tedious sniff test routine. In a spirit of collaboration, Murad could source some nice labels and Alex could write on them. If Alex's sense of smell is as keen as he says, it shouldn't take 68 It takes two to tango in a shared household, and Alex has warmed the new flat with a thoughtful, handmade spice rack. Since labelling is the main issue, would it be too much for Murad to curry some favour by filling the jars and labelling them himself?Patrick, 31 As someone who likes cooking and does it a lot, unlabelled jars would annoy me too. It is a nice effort from Alex to have made a spice rack, but surely labelling is not a massive job. Until the jars are labelled, the rack is not strictly finished, as it can't be used 32 Both need to dial it down. Alex, make some nice labels – it'll be fun! Murad, if Alex doesn't label the jars, do it yourself. Masking tape and a Sharpie will do it – it may even spur Alex to upgrade it.L, 46 It's sweet that Alex made the rack but he needs to be less possessive over it. It's good to live and let 67 In our online poll, tell us if you think Murad should get on track with the rack? The poll closes on Wednesday 23 July at 10am BST We asked whether Lynsey should maintain a separate towels laundry policy 89% said yes – Lynsey is guilty11% said no – Lynsey is innocent
The Guardian
17-07-2025
- General
- The Guardian
You be the judge: should my flatmate start using the spice rack I made?
I haven't labelled the jars, but you can just sniff each spice and work out which is which When my flatmate, Murad, and I moved into our new flat last year, I made us a spice rack. We've been friends for a few years and lived in another house before this, which wasn't as nice. The spice rack was supposed to symbolise a new beginning. After the pandemic, I got into making things with wood, and thought the spice rack would be good for the kitchen, but Murad seems to hate it. I do care more than I probably should about it, but it's because we live in a shared flat with limited space and I genuinely thought the spice rack would be a helpful, practical upgrade. I even bought matching jars and arranged everything thoughtfully. I haven't got around to labelling each jar, but I don't think it's a big deal. You can just sniff a spice to work out what it is. My sense of smell is great – maybe Murad is triggered because he can't smell things as well as me. Instead of using the rack, Murad has taken over our cupboard with shop-bought jars and packets he's picked up in every shape and size, and it's chaos. Once, when I opened the cupboard, I had cumin spill all over me because he hadn't put the lid on properly, and that was really annoying. Murad says we both need to take ownership of the way things are arranged in the shared cupboard, but it wouldn't have been me who left a jar of cumin hanging off the edge. I think his side of the cupboard is way more chaotic than my spice rack. Murad has created his own junk-shed of random spices, but his just have branded packaging. I get that Murad wants me to label things, but life got busy. Plus, as I made the spice rack, maybe he could help with decanting and labelling? Meanwhile, we could make better use of the shared cupboard space. Our kitchen is small and I don't think two sets of spices is economical. A flat isn't just a collection of solo zones, it's a compromise and requires teamwork. The rack isn't perfect, but with a little collaboration we could make it better. I want ease and functionality. I don't want to try to solve a puzzle every time I make a curry I cook almost every night and love to use spices, but Alex's rack is a mess – it has no labels and no logic, and I don't have a clue what's in each jar. I don't want to try to solve a puzzle every time I make a curry, so I buy my own spices and put them in my section of the shared cupboard. Alex says I'm taking up too much cupboard space and don't empty my old jars. He also says the spices have fallen on him and spilled everywhere when he's opened our cupboard, but that's not my fault as it's shared, so he can't blame me for all the organisation. I actually think he's hurt that I'm not using his DIY spice rack, but it's not personal. It just doesn't have everything I need and it's not clear what's what. I prefer shop-bought packaging as it actually has labels. It's not like I'm buying gold-plated saffron. It's just basic things that I use regularly. I want to know that when I reach for cumin, I'm getting cumin, not a mystery dust. I don't want to have to sniff-test every jar. Alex may think it's fun to live as if we were in a Victorian apothecary, but I think it slows everything down and makes cooking, which I actually enjoy, feel frustrating. I've brought this up before and said I'll clear out my shelf if he tidies up the spice rack. He always says, 'Oh, I'll label them soon.' But the labelling never happens. It's been months. How long am I meant to wait for the organisation to materialise? I'm happy to share store cupboard staples, but not when it means playing Russian roulette with flavour. Alex needs to get his spice rack in order before I give up my shelf space. At this point, I want ease and functionality, but his spice rack creates chaos and confusion. I cook mainly for myself, but sometimes for Alex too. If he wants delicious, flavourful food he shouldn't police where I source my spices. Should Murad use Alex's spice rack? Labelling the jars would improve their appearance and spare Murad the tedious sniff test routine. In a spirit of collaboration, Murad could source some nice labels and Alex could write on them. If Alex's sense of smell is as keen as he says, it shouldn't take 68 It takes two to tango in a shared household, and Alex has warmed the new flat with a thoughtful, handmade spice rack. Since labelling is the main issue, would it be too much for Murad to curry some favour by filling the jars and labelling them himself?Patrick, 31 As someone who likes cooking and does it a lot, unlabelled jars would annoy me too. It is a nice effort from Alex to have made a spice rack, but surely labelling is not a massive job. Until the jars are labelled, the rack is not strictly finished, as it can't be used 32 Both need to dial it down. Alex, make some nice labels – it'll be fun! Murad, if Alex doesn't label the jars, do it yourself. Masking tape and a Sharpie will do it – it may even spur Alex to upgrade it.L, 46 It's sweet that Alex made the rack but he needs to be less possessive over it. It's good to live and let 67 In our online poll, tell us if you think Murad should get on track with the rack? The poll closes on Wednesday 23 July at 10am BST We asked whether Lynsey should maintain a separate towels laundry policy 89% said yes – Lynsey is guilty11% said no – Lynsey is innocent
