Wallet Mouth

G, thanks!

Here's another case of a company changing a less-than-perfect behavior on its own just as I was starting to get a bee in my bonnet about it: We've been happily using gDiapers, which I've blogged about before, for six months now, but the other week, I noticed that the plastic packaging used for the product's flushable inserts had some misleading text on it. It said, "This Bag Is 100% Recyclable."

Um, no it's not.

Even in San Francisco's single-stream recycling system, plastic bags and films are a big no-no. And while some grocery stores accept plastic bags for recycling, the all-encompassing language in the gDiapers text was probably causing well-meaning but clueless parents to throw the bags into their curbside bins and gum up the machinery.

So I wrote gDiapers and asked what was going on. I pointed out that (as I blogged about in a recent post) the FTC's "Guides for the Use of Environmental Marketing Claims" consider calling plastic garbage bags recyclable to be a deceptive claim.

I got a nice reply from gDiapers acknowledging that yes, #4 plastic are tricky and are generally not intended for curbside programs. The statement also explained that the company knows plastic bags are not ideal from an environmental standpoint and is actively searching for a cost-effective compostable alternative that can stand up to the elements.

Meanwhile, the copy on the packaging changed! (I don't claim to take any credit for it, but what a coincidence!) It now reads, "For a happy planet, please recycle in communities where available." Much better.

A guilty pleasure no more

This week I've been pumping copy at one of my favorite clients, ReadyMade magazine. One of the great things about working there, as I do every couple of months during the production deadlines, is the office's proximity to VIK's Chaat Corner, a purveyor of delicious Indian food (the menu even includes masala dosas, much to my delight).

But there has always been a downside to my lunches there: no matter whether you were eating in or taking your food to go, the treats would always come in a nonrecyclable #6 polystyrene compartmentalized container. I tried washing off the containers and saving them, thinking perhaps I'd find some use for them later, but I never did. And since the editor-in-chief's attempt to get the restaurant to reuse one of its own containers was rebuffed, I never tried that, either.

Every time I ate at VIK's, I would look at the garbage can full of those plastic plates and despair. Then I'd toss my own and feel a terrible wave of guilt. But the food was so good and so cheap, I couldn't stop patronizing the place. I fantasized about starting a petition, but images of getting shooed away and told never to come back haunted me.

Once I asked the guy at the register why they didn't use real plates and a dishwasher. Too expensive, he replied. "But look at all this plastic that's just going to the landfill," I protested. "I for one would be happy to pay a little more, and I'm sure lots of other people feel the same way." This was, after all, Berkeley, the high altar of environmental activism. But he just gave me the Indian head nod/wiggle and suggested that I call the manager.

That was months ago. I've been busy with this parenthood thing. And besides, I first wanted to get info about Berkeley's composting program, because I'd heard from another restaurant that they actually got paid for their food scraps. So I emailed the city. Turns out, businesses get a 20 percent price break if they can use food waste recycling rather than refuse service. Fantastic! Hmm, but does that mean they can't have any non-food garbage? Clearly a phone call was in order.

But now comes the exciting part of my story: When I ate lunch at VIK's today (hunger having drowned out the little voice telling me to resist the restaurant's magnetic pull and stay true to my Wallet Mouth ideals), the food came in a ... paperboard container! My curry tasted so much better without the side order of guilt.

I didn't see any compost bins, however. Next time I'm there I'll make sure VIK's knows about the food-waste discount.

Amuse-bouche: PETA bites

It’s inspiring to see a values-based organization like PETA doing a large-scale project like this that emphasizes the carrot rather than the stick, so to speak.

The announcement of a prize for the development of commercially viable in vitro meat delighted Mr. Wallet Mouth, who like me is a vegetarian who has spent many a barbecue slinking around the grill with puppy-dog eyes, talking hopefully of the day when he can again indulge in a bacon cheeseburger...

I like the idea of this X Prize–like initiative just as it is, but I did wonder whether the reward is enough to light any fires... which led me to an idea of how to add more fuel: Why not let individuals with an interest in the outcome of such challenges put their money where their mouth is and add to the kitty? I do believe I’ll write PETA to suggest it (and natch, I’ll let you know if anything comes of it).

Take-out blues

The other night I ordered food from one of our favorite local Thai restaurants. When I called to place the order, I first asked what kind of containers they used: paper or plastic? (Styrofoam foodware was banned in San Francisco last year.)

I had resolved to myself that I wouldn’t place the order if plastic was used (I know that cardboard to-go containers aren’t perfect, but at least we can compost them). “Paper,” the order-taker answered. Great! 

I was pretty disappointed, then, when the food arrived in a #5 plastic tub, two #6 plastic clamshell containers, and only one cardboard box (for the rice).

Now, the #5 tub is at least recyclable (though plastics recycling has problems of its own), but the #6 polystyrene clamshells are not. They’re also best avoided for health reasons. According to National Geographic’s Green Guide, styrene can leach from such containers into food. “Styrene, considered a possible human carcinogen by [the International Agency for Research on Cancer], may also disrupt hormones or affect reproduction,” it states.

And that’s not even getting into the issue of the environmental ills associated with its production and disposal.

In researching this further, I learned that my beloved Thai restaurant’s use of the #6 clamshells could actually be illegal. San Francisco’s law banning Styrofoam food containers also requires vendors to use compostable or recyclable to-go containers “unless there is no suitable product that is within 15% of the cost of non-compostable or non-recyclable alternatives.”

So, as soon as I finish this post, I’m going to write a letter to the restaurant detailing all my concerns. I’ll include a copy of San Francisco’s list of compostable foodware distributors and encourage them to make the switch from plastic to paper. Until they do, I’ll either dine in or get my veggie Panang curry elsewhere.