Save the Food, for the Greater Good

Food waste. It’s the silent scandal in your fridge, the ghost of well-intentioned meal plans, the tragic fate of that sad-looking cucumber you swore you’d use in a salad (but didn’t). It’s also a massive environmental problem. But here in Iceland, amidst the land of fire and ice, we’re not just sitting back and letting perfectly edible food meet its doom. We’re getting creative—sometimes even a little rebellious.

Iceland imports a staggering amount of food. Because, well, our local avocado trees aren’t exactly thriving. But despite the high price and limited selection, an absurd amount still ends up in the bin. That’s where local legends step in, armed with soup pots, community fridges, and a bit of punk spirit.

If you haven’t met Reykjavik’s freedges (free fridges), you’re missing out on a quiet revolution. These community-run refrigerators are scattered around the city, offering a second chance for surplus food. No bureaucracy, no questions—just take what you need and leave what you don’t. One of these fridges has an unofficial guardian angel: Rósa, a one-woman soup-slinging force of nature. She takes surplus veggies, often scavenged from shop leftovers, and turns them into heartwarming, belly-filling soups. Then she stocks the freedges with them. Call it culinary alchemy, call it kindness—either way, it’s a meal saved and a hungry person fed.

Let’s talk about dumpster diving. In Iceland, it’s less about rummaging through stinky bins and more about intercepting criminally good food before it’s trashed. Major supermarkets discard shocking amounts of still-edible food, sometimes just because a tomato has the audacity to be slightly squishy. Some dedicated folks have turned this into an underground movement, salvaging and sharing the bounty. There’s even a bit of an unspoken etiquette: take what you need, leave it tidy, and don’t hoard the good stuff (nobody likes a greedy goblin).

Not everyone is keen to jump headfirst into a supermarket bin (fair enough). Luckily, there are lower-priced veggie and fruit sections in many shops, where slightly bruised but perfectly edible produce gets a second chance at glory. Then there’s Andrými’s Open Market, where you can swap, trade, or take food freely. A little less capitalism, a little more community—what’s not to love?

Now, if you’re sitting there thinking, "Yes, but where’s the party?", hold on to your soup spoon! On the 8th of February at 12:00 at Hafnar.haus, we’re taking food waste activism to the dance floor with DiscoSoup! Hosted by us (Totelly), this event is all about bringing people together to cook up a storm using surplus veggies. You bring some leftovers; we chop, stir, and groove to funky beats. It’s like a potluck, but with more dancing and fewer passive-aggressive side-eye glances at Karen’s store-bought salad.

Food waste isn’t just about economics; it’s about respect—respect for resources, for the people who grow our food, and for our planet. Whether you donate to a freedge, salvage some sad-looking veggies, or just come shake your lettuce at DiscoSoup, you’re part of the solution.

So, Reykjavik, let’s keep our cucumbers out of the bin and our soup bowls full. See you on the 8th at 12:00—bring your spoon!