Yikes. Landfills are the single largest direct human source of methane. Methane = bad. Either we let the food decompose, which creates leachate, or we incinerate it, which creates nitrous oxide. Both leachate and nitrous oxide = bad.

You know what makes all this bad news even worse? When I was doing research for my food waste post last year, I wasn’t quite prepared to tackle landfills and methane and all that, so I left out a little tidbit from NPR that “wasted food is the largest component of solid waste in our landfills.”

Double yikes. Landfills are bad and wasted food is the largest part of them?? Food waste = bad!!!

The worst part of all, of course, is that wasting food is totally avoidable. There are different ways to shop, and different ways to cook, all of which can significantly help cut down on waste. But despite our best efforts, we all know that there will still be waste, right? How much better off would we be, then, if we could avoid tossing this waste in our plastic trash bags? It would be better for our kitchens, better for our wallets, and apparently, better bigtime for the earth.

Plus — and the whole reason I started — it’s better for our gardens! Food waste can be a good thing, in fact, because it helps us create something beautiful: a nutrient-rich black gold that fertilizes our lawns, plants and flowers, fruits and vegetables. Compost doesn’t stink (or shouldn’t, anyway), and it never expires. It never goes bad. It just waits for us. If we end up with too much, it can always be bottled up and given away as gifts to gardening friends!

OK, so there’s more than enough reasons to compost. For me, the question was always how to get started. I thought it would be complicated. Like I would need special containers, special tools, at least a green thumb. I’ll never forget how a gardening friend of mine described composting to me when I asked her how it’s done. She could see that I was intimidated by the topic, and so she spoke slowly and in short sentences for me. “You put your kitchen scraps in a bowl. You take it outside. You throw it in a pile of leaves.” She looked at me, staring at her with anticipation, wondering if I should take notes. She finished with a dramatic flourish: “You come back inside.”

“That’s it?” I laughed. “But isn’t it more complicated than that? Something to do with brown-to-green ratios, and oxygenation, and turning frequencies?”

“Some people certainly try to make it complicated,” she said, “but it’s totally not necessary.”

I’ve taken her words to heart. I’m not going to worry about carbon vs nitrogen, or temperature readings, or oxygenation-whatever. Neighbors who’ve been composting all along agree: it’s super easy. You don’t even need a special container for it, only a spot of lawn or ground. About the only tool you might want to have is a rake or shovel for mixing wet and dry materials every now and then. Some people keep an airtight container inside the kitchen for their food scraps, so they don’t have to go to the compost pile so often, but I just throw mine in a bowl that’s already been dirtied from the cooking process, and toss it every night. One less thing to find a home for in the kitchen, in my opinion, and also less stink.