A Very Adult Garbage Can
How much would you spend on your detritus?
I recently bought a wildly expensive garbage can.
Not wildly expensive as in well beyond my small-business-owner’s salary, but expensive enough for a garbage can.
After eyeing the Simply Human step-pedal kitchen bin for over a year now, I finally threw caution to the wind, slammed down $150 and braced myself for garbage euphoria.
And indeed, I have found it.
If you’ve ever dealt with a sub-par bin – clunky, loud, smelly, won’t hold a bag properly – you know what an utter pain it is to have a garbage can that just sits there looking ugly and being annoying. I’ve had a many cheap ones – because who would actually spend money on a garbage can? – but they didn’t look all that good, especially when the metal started to rust, which always happens when dealing with garbage no matter how diligent you are in taking it out.
So, after a few $20-$40 bins that have just ended up in landfill after a few months’ use, I took my time finding a good one – meanwhile using a lime-green, plastic wine bucket as my temp, which made me equally crazy.
Now that I have my Simply Human, I am unreasonably thrilled with my garbage bin. I polish it regularly, examine it with every bag replacement to ensure it’s still in top form, and with every walk-by, I adjust it a centimetre this way, or an inch that way to ensure its proper positioning. I simply love my Simply Human.
(How I wish this were a sponsored post.)
I’m curious, what have you purchased that has given you wild satisfaction?
I’m in the midst of renovating my 18-year-old condo. It will be a slow journey that will take another few years to complete (we’ll discuss that topic another time), but as I clear out the old for the new, I’ve been thinking more and more about investment pieces that last, such as my garbage can, versus fast fashions that breakdown after a few uses.
Later this week, I’m headed to Italy (brace yourselves for pasta-filled, wine-soaked dispatches … apologies in advance for spelling mistakes). What has always stuck out to me whenever I’ve visited any European country, is their collective shrewdness in curating fashion, furniture, and design. A lot is based on practicality, everything is smaller – roads, cars, fridges, closets (just kidding – there aren’t any closets), so people buy a few well-chosen pieces meant to last, if not forever, than for a significant number of years. And, they use the heck out of them.
When I was visiting a Spanish winery a few years ago, it took me a few days to realize our enviably stylish host wore the same jeans every day; he just created new looks swapping a blazer, shirt, and the omnipresent, European scarf.
Friends in Bologna live in an 800-square foot, second floor walk-up. They both have worked in the fashion industry (she for Prada, he for Calvin Klein), and used their keen eye to expertly decorate their compact space with brilliant efficiency: storage under the staircase, an under-counter fridge topped with a thick, wood cutting board, windowsills lined with pots of fresh herbs.
These visits have very much influenced my thinking as I approach my refurbishing – and my life, in general. Spreading beyond investing in quality clothes or furniture, I’m also loathe to let food go to waste.
As the countdown is on for a three-week sojourn across the Atlantic, I am, as my dad says, in “wind down mode.” I’m working my way through all the perishable contents in my fridge and cupboards. It’s both economically relaxing (I’m someone who grocery shops every day based on my cravings for dinner), and creatively thrilling.
By refusing to shop for any more food, except for non-perishables needed to make dinners taste good, such as salt or vinegar, I’ve both saved a revealing amount of money, and flexed my brain in new ways to create interesting and satisfying meals.
I’m hoping this practice will cement in my daily life upon returning, but I fear I might slip back into my culinary wonton ways.
On Saturday’s Weekender, I will share a recipe for citrus salt – a project I’ve done to use up an abundance of lemons and limes. I’ve zested the peels and squeezed and frozen the juice. Waste not, want not.
Today, I offer you a super-simple recipe for quick-pickled celery. If you’re not a celery lover, a quick-pickle brings a new dimension to the humble vegetable. I finish burrata cheese with it, add it to salads, and even top pizza for a zesty kick.
The pickling liquid can be used for carrots, onions, or beans, or any sturdy vegetable, and you can also play around with it: add garlic or peppercorns or fresh dill. Wherever your cravings lead you.
This quick-pickling process is not canning or jarring, so it’s not shelf stable and must be refrigerated, but it will easily last a month – but I bet will be gone within days.
Quick Pickled Celery
Makes: About a litre (but you can add or subtract to make as much or little as you want)
Chef level: Easy
Ingredients:
8 stalks of celery, thickly sliced
1 cup apple cider vinegar
1 cup water
4 Tbsp sugar
2 Tbsp Kosher salt
How to Make It:
In a sauce pot over high heat, bring the water, vinegar, sugar and salt to a boil and stir to dissolve the sugar and salt.
Add the celery to a large, glass bowl.
Pour the hot liquid over the celery and allow to cool to room temperature.
When cool enough to handle, transfer the celery and the liquid to a clean jar, seal, and store in the fridge until needed.
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