When life gives you lemons, go zero-waste!

The zero-waste champions have their diktat on everything, from plastic to fabric. They care deeply, and rightly so, about the three Rs: reduce, reuse, recycle. They also advise on why our highly consumeristic, “cradle-to- grave” approach is essentially hinged on wastefulness, because it encourages hoarding, and sends our belongings straight to the landfills. Instead, they say, we ought to think about adopting the more useful, circular “cradle-to-cradle” way: a non-linear model to keep stuff in use for as long as possible, and promote a zero-waste modus operandi by enhancing the shelf life of resources.

Cradle-to-cradle is a closed-loop concept, and can best be illustrated through the cycle of sustainable farming and composting: food is grown using natural methods, without harmful chemicals, distributed and consumed using eco-conscious processes like carbon-neutral channels and reusable/ compostable packaging materials. Once prepared and consumed, any food waste is put into a compost bin, to close the loop, given that the compost is used to grow more food. When it comes to zero-waste food, our ancestors have created enough and more templates to use up leftovers and also take vegetables and fruits through a no-waste lifecycle, where everything, from skin to seed, is used up. Ridge gourd peels are turned into a chutney, bottle gourd peels can become a delicious sabzi, pumpkin, jackfruit, cucumber and melon seeds are dried and roasted to eat as a snack, flowers — from drumstick to banana, are used in cooking, raw mango peels are salted and sun-dried to sour gravies, excess leaves like curry, methi and pudina are dried and powdered to perk up everyday dishes, the list is endless. You’ve also probably heard of local cafés practicing zero-waste food techniques like Eat Raaja, where
fruit juice is served in fruit shells and other innovative organic material.

At home, you don’t need a big Michelin-star meal or flash-in-the-pan moment to execute simple ideas for zero-waste food. My suggestion is, we start with one simple ingredient.

Let’s take one that we’re all familiar with, in the kitchen as well as in the folds of a popular adage, which encourages optimism in the face of a dire situation: lemon. When life gives you lemons, they say, make lemonade, or do something more radical, like grab some soda, maple syrup and pickle juice, and make a virgin margarita. Channelling my inner Rose Edelstein from the international bestseller, The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender, I’d even say, lemon cake, minus the sadness. Jokes aside, I ask, what could you not do with a lemon? You can pickle it, bake with its juice and grated rind, use it to liven up everyday comfort foods like dal, use it to prevent the browning of fruits like apple and avocado, clean countertops, copper pots and kitchen sinks with it, use it in face and hair masks, remove stains from clothes by rubbing them with a wedge of lemon dipped in salt, whiten teeth with a few drops of lemon juice and salt, and stow lemon peels away to make bio enzyme with them. Of course, this lineup
would be incomplete without mentioning the magic ink we made with lemon juice, as kids: we’d dip a toothpick in lemon juice and write a message on a blank white sheet, and then shine a light on it once it was dry.

But I digress. Let’s stick with food for now, and go through the journey of a lemon, from tree to kitchen counter. We wash it, cut it, and squeeze the juice, mostly, to use in a variety of dishes. How can we extend the food lifespan of the lemon after we use the juice? Here’s a recipe, handed down from my mom: lemon peel chutney. With perfectly balanced flavours of bitter, spicy and sweet, this chutney is a great addition to your condiment tray. It’s unlike a pickle, and yet serves the purpose of one. And in keeping with the proverbial phrase, I’ve always thought of it as a symbol of sunniness and hope.

It is fairly easy to make, stores well, and is a worthy antidote for any kind of bitter experience. I usually have a bottle of this chutney stocked in the refrigerator, to serve as a side with khichdi when someone is under the weather, or to enhance a rasam-rice meal for someone in a particularly morose mood. It works like magic, all the time.

Bittersweet lemon rind chutney

l 6-8 lemon rinds (store rinds after squeezing out the juice in the refrigerator)
l 6-8 green chillies
l ¼ inch piece of ginger
l 2 tablespoons groundnut oil
l 1 teaspoon mustard seeds
l A dash of asafoetida
l ¼ teaspoon turmeric
l 2 teaspoons roasted fenugreek seeds powder
l Salt and sugar according to preference.
l De-seed and pressure cook the lemon rinds, chillies and ginger until soft (5-8 minutes, or one whistle).*
l Cool and grind to a paste in the mixer.
l Heat the oil in a pan, add mustard seeds, and once they splutter, add the hing and turmeric, roasted fenugreek seeds powder, and fry for a minute.
l Add the ground chutney paste, add salt and sugar, and sauté for about 10 minutes on a low flame, or until the chutney starts to leave the sides of the pan.
l Cool completely before storing in a dry container/ bottle and keep in the refrigerator.
l Serve as an accompaniment with rice, roti, or slather it on a hot buttered toast for a burst of breakfast flavours!
l You can throw the seeds in your garden or in the compost bin, and with some luck, you may end up with a lemon sapling or two!

(Ranjini Rao is a communications professor, author, and podcaster, straddling multiple worlds in Bengaluru. She’s passionate about urban farming and sustainable living, and can mostly be found cooking and baking in her little kitchen where, surrounded by heirloom coffee kettles and mismatched tea cups, she finds her chi.)