Reducing food waste is key in battle against climate change

Editor’s note: This is the fourth story in a six-part Restaurant Business series on climate change and the restaurant industry.

After service, Michael Cimarusti, chef and owner of one of the most acclaimed fine-dining restaurants in Los Angeles, sometimes goes outside to look inside his garbage bins.

If the trash bin—the one likely headed for a landfill— is not full, he considers it a good day.

“I feel like it’s a daily measure of success,” said Cimarusti, who co-owns Providence, a restaurant that has earned a Michelin green star for its sustainability efforts, as well as two culinary Michelin stars.

Cimarusti is deeply concerned about climate change and the role his restaurants might play in contributing to the worsening environment. And one of his concerns is the amount of food waste that ends up rotting in landfills.

At Providence, for example, Cimarusti tries to give every ingredient “as many lives as possible.” 

Beef fat is rendered and reused for cooking or made into candles. Bones are used for stock. Trimmings not suitable for the fine-dining menu might end up as tacos at crew family meal. At the end of the week, if there’s overstock, the meat or fish is offered to staff to take home and feed their families. What’s left on guest plates goes into a compost bin.

The restaurant even makes its own chocolate in house, and, after winnowing the nibs, the husks of from the beans are used to make a tea sweetener and then, after that, used as mulch in the restaurant’s rooftop garden. 

Nothing from making the chocolate really leaves the premises, said Cimarusti, “except in the bellies of guests.”

These are things that Cimarusti—who is also working to remove single-use plastics from his restaurants—can control. But is it enough?

At Providence, chocolate is made in house. The leftover husks from the beans are used to make tea and then become mulch for the restaurant’s rooftop garden. | Photo by Christina Gandolfo.

In the battle to slow climate change, food waste is a huge problem.

An estimated one-third of food produced in the U.S. is never eaten, according to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) in a 2023 report.  And wasted food is the single most common material sent to landfills and incinerated in the U.S. It makes up about 24% of waste that is sent to landfills.

There, because it is typically buried and not exposed to oxygen, it rots and creates methane, called a “super pollutant” because it is one of the most-potent greenhouse gases. 

The EPA estimates that wasted food is responsible for 58% of landfill methane emissions.

Federal officials, and some states, have set aggressive goals for reducing the amount of food waste sent to landfills, but efforts so far have fallen far short. 

Climate change advocates agree that big, sweeping change is needed, but those changes require investments in infrastructure and innovation. As yet, no political leader has emerged to champion those efforts. And while progress is being made in some cities, the burden has largely been placed on businesses and consumers to change their ways.

Restaurants, for example, are urged by the EPA to do three things: Produce less waste, donate excess food to those in need and recycle or compost what remains.

These three steps can seem so simple. Yet restaurant operators big and small say such moves can be incredibly challenging—especially for companies with a large footprint navigating often vastly different markets.

Another thing to worry about

Last year, the nonprofit think tank ReFED and the World Wildlife Fund asked U.S. businesses to sign onto a national Food Waste Pact with certain commitments and goals, and to share best practices. Signatories include retailers like Walmart, Aldi, Whole Foods and even onsite foodservice manager Sodexo. But only one restaurant chain has joined: Chick-fil-A.

It’s understandable to see some resistance, especially when so many restaurants are still struggling to recover from the Covid years, and face rising costs and rapid technological change, said Henry Rich, managing partner of The Oberon Group, based in New York City, which operates seven sustainably focused restaurants and a zero-waste catering company.

“Restaurant owners and chefs, when they’re told that climate change is a problem that they need to think about and invest in, it’s a difficult conversation,” said Rich. “We, as a community, have felt a little bit besieged by just the difficulty of all of it.

 “It’s so difficult to run a restaurant already. They already barely make any money. It’s so much work. And to put the burden of addressing climate change on restaurateurs, it feels, I think, a little bit much.” 

And yet Rich, whose concepts include the zero-waste wine bar Rhodora in Brooklyn, is among those who believe restaurants need to think about changing their ways. Bringing the conversation of climate change to the table as an industry can give new meaning and motivation to the daily grind of the restaurant business, he contends. Consumers want it, and so do those who work in restaurants.

 “There are amazing things we can do, and things that we do do,” he said. 

And, fundamentally, if you’re working in an industry where nearly a quarter of greenhouse gas emissions are caused by food systems, Rich added, “then you are responsible to think about what you can do, at least a little bit, to mitigate that.”

The big picture

Of course, restaurants are not the only culprits here. The challenge of methane-producing organic waste spans the food system, from farmers, to distributors, retailers, restaurants and consumers.

In the U.S. in 2022, an estimated 38% of the 235 million tons of food produced went unsold and uneaten. That’s about 145 billion meals. About 15% of that came from foodservice, according to ReFED, whose mission is to find data-driven solutions to food waste.

Policy makers on the federal and state level have attempted to address the issue with legislation and goal setting. But even those in charge of implementing such policies say efforts have fallen far short.

The Biden-Harris Administration, for example, earlier this year released the National Strategy for Reducing Food Loss and Waste and Recycling Organics. The goal is to cut food loss and waste in half by 2030.

That, however, was also a goal set in 2015. And the amount of wasted food actually increased between 2016 and 2022, though it began to level off in 2021, according to ReFED. 

When announcing the national strategy earlier this year, U.S. Agriculture department Secretary Tom Vilsack reportedly said, “I wish I was here to report to you that we in the U.S. government have done our job, and that we’re very close to meeting that goal. But the reality is we’re not.”

Separately, nine states have banned commercial businesses from sending food waste to landfills, and a growing number of states are also setting goals for reducing waste, including California, which has set a legislative goal of reducing organic waste disposal by 75% by next year (from 2014 levels). The bill in California, however, didn’t go into effect until the beginning of 2022.

So far, reports indicate such laws have had little impact. Only Massachusetts has moved the needle, according to a recent study in the journal Science. (The study credited the state’s investment in composting, simplicity and levying fines on businesses that didn’t comply.)

Still policy goals are important because they ultimately have a big impact on expectations for businesses, contends Angel Veza, senior manager of innovation and engagement for ReFED.

More needs to be done, said Veza. And more funding is needed to implement these strategies, including funding that would help subsidize the upfront costs restaurants can incur.

Meanwhile, the three (seemingly simple) steps recommended by the EPA offer a framework for restaurant operators to take action.

Step One: Produce less waste

It seems a no brainer. Ensuring you have enough food to serve and no leftovers at the end of the day is fundamental to good restaurant operations. 

“If you’re wasting food, you’re wasting money,” said Veza.

Yet it’s a constant battle. To find that right balance, restaurant chains are increasingly tapping into technology to better predict the specific needs of each unit, both in terms of ordering supply and what should be cooked when, and proper storage.

Cava, for example, earlier this year launched a Connected Kitchen pilot that uses artificial intelligence and data to better forecast what should be prepped, and batch cooked, giving the team guidance by the day or even by the hour. The initiative uses camera vision, data from digital channels, scheduling and historical data—and even the weather.

The goal is to take that complexity out of the hands of team members to allow them to focus more on making great food and hospitality, contends CEO Brett Schulman, but it is also hoped it will reduce waste.

Chipotle’s $100 million Cultivate Next venture fund, meanwhile, recently announced an investment in Lumachain, an AI-based supply chain platform that tracks ingredients in real time, from farm to table, to improve the management of perishables with the goal of reducing waste.

Tech companies, like Winnow, are focusing AI on outputs, identifying what’s being thrown away and when, to give operators a better picture of where reductions can be made.

Rich is also a believer in measuring waste. “What can be measured can be managed,” he said.  

Other chains focus on simpler techniques, like smaller batch cooking. 

Chick-fil-A, for example, encourages a “lean model” of cooking in smaller quantities, said Heather Beaubien, Chick-fil-A’s director of sustainability. “This helps us reduce food waste while also providing the benefit of improved product quality, food safety and more. For our local owner-operators, this not only means that they have less leftover food in their restaurants, but their guests can also enjoy food that is more freshly prepared.”

But a factor many sustainably minded operators say must be addressed is portion sizes.

Restaurant portions began ballooning in the 1980s and remain a key factor in the perception of value, despite the fact that research indicates 75% of consumers would like the option of smaller portions for less money.

Chipotle, for example, earlier this year was skewered on social media platforms when fans perceived that chain’s typically massive portion sizes had shrunk (though company officials insisted they were as generous as ever).

But just because those guests demand giant overstuffed burritos doesn’t mean they will eat them all. ReFED estimates that 70% of food waste at the foodservice level is due to plate waste from customers who don’t eat all they are served (or take from a buffet).

“One of the biggest pain points is consumers ordering too much, not finishing their plates, and having expectations about portions,” said Anne McBride, vice president of programs at the James Beard Foundation, which hosts roundtable discussions around the country for operators to share ideas on battling climate change. “That’s hard for restaurants to control.”

For full-service restaurants, Rich recommends using a steakhouse model, with a center of the plate protein and a la carte sides, rather than filling a plate with food that consumers may not necessarily want.

That puts consumers in control of how much they want to eat (and pay for), and it can be beneficial from a margin standpoint, he said.

Step Two: Donate consumable leftovers

Because producing the right amount of food is so difficult, there are often perfectly good meals left over at the end of the day. In a world where so many people go hungry, it makes total sense for restaurant overstock to go to those in need.

Since 1996, federal legislation has provided liability protection for restaurants that donate surplus food to nonprofits, provided it is donated in good faith. Last year, President Biden strengthened that protection with the Food Donation Improvement Act, which extended protections to the nonprofit intermediaries.

But, again, it’s not that simple.

“Different types of restaurants create different types of waste for different reasons,” said Veza of ReFED. “I think the reality is there are still a number of challenges in the restaurant space on implementing a food donation program, and that it isn’t a good fit for a lot of restaurants.”

For some, it can work in specific situations.

Cava, for example, finds local nonprofits that accept donations whenever a new restaurant opens. Often in those first few days there is excess food that results from training, and foot traffic during opening weeks can be difficult to judge. It’s a way to connect with the community, said Andy Rebhun, Cava’s chief experience officer.

In addition, the chain has tested using Too Good To Go, an anti-food-waste program popular in Europe, that allows restaurants to sell leftovers at deep discounts. But the listings are often available only at odd hours and commitments can be tricky to manage, he said.

Cava is still working on finding the right national solution, said Rebhun. 

“Donating food is more challenging than you’d think,” he said. “Operationally, if you know you can do it and you have someone to manage it, it’s about making sure you have systems in place.”

McBride of the Beard Foundation noted that banquets are an opportunity.

No one wants to run out of food, so operators tend to overestimate needs for events. Food donation can be the answer to leftovers, and it’s something that can be set up ahead of time, she said.

“It can be a conversation they have with the client,” she said. The organizer can suggest a food-recovery system as part of the contract, which can make customers feel good about participating.

Chick-fil-A has had success with its Shared Table program, which launched in 2012. Originally inspired by an owner-operator, Shared Table has grown to include more than 2,200 of the chain’s restaurants, which donate surplus food, like chicken, biscuits, eggs and salad, to nonprofits. CEO Andrew Cathy hopes to see 100% participation by the chain’s more-than-3,000 units by 2025.

“It’s the right thing to do, which is why so many local owner-operators have already volunteered to engage in this effort,” said Beaubien.

Chick-fil-A has donated more than 30 million meals since 2012, a move that has helped divert more than 38 million tons of waste from landfills over the past four years. | Photo courtesy of Chick-fil-A.

Chick-fil-A has developed a network of some 1,200 nonprofits across the U.S. and Canada, from soup kitchens to senior centers, which helps local operators find sources for their donations. Team members pack up the food, and the nonprofits pick it up.

Chick-fil-A even created a free cookbook, “Extra Helpings,” with recipes for dishes using Chick-fil-A leftovers, like chicken parmesan, breakfast casseroles and teriyaki stir fries.

It fits with Chick-fil-A’s fundamental brand values of caring for others in their communities, Beaubien said. But it also has become one of the most impactful methods of diverting food waste from landfills. 

Chick-fil-A estimates more than 30 million meals have gone to those in need through the program since 2012. And more than 38 million pounds of food waste from restaurants across the system have been diverted from landfills since 2020.

Step 3: Recycle and compost

Much of the conversation about food waste in restaurants has focused on making the most of every ingredient, sometimes called recycling or upcycling.

Spent grains from a brewery becomes bread. Stale bread becomes breadcrumbs. Produce can be pickled or canned.

Concepts like Shuggie’s Trash Pie in San Francisco highlight “upcycled” ingredients, like irregular or surplus produce from food manufacturing, “lower-on-the-food-chain” seafood and off cuts of meat. It’s designed to bring attention to the food waste problem while actually saving waste from landfills.

McBride said she hears often from operators about such ideas, but notes that it’s important to “keep deliciousness at the center” of such recipes. 

“I mean, how much carrot-top pesto can you eat, and is it better than basil pesto? Not really,” she said.

Of course, despite every effort, there is always going to be some waste, from egg shells and onion skins, to nut shells and strawberry stems. And that’s where composting is increasingly becoming that last-ditch diversion solution—at least in the few cities where it is available.

When organic waste is composted under controlled conditions (there are various methods) it produces less methane. The promise is that the organic waste can become a nutrient-rich product that can enhance the soil at farms that supply restaurants—a closed loop. And those farmers could rely less on chemical fertilizers.

>At Providence, unusable food waste goes into a compost bin. But where local haulers take that food waste is a bit of a mystery. | Photo by Christina Gandolfo.

Organic waste can also be processed at digester facilities designed to capture methane, which then can be used as an alternative energy source or converted into biofuel, both reducing dependence on fossil fuels. 

Chipotle, for example, in its most recent sustainability report said 36% of the chain’s more than 3,000 restaurants now compost their food waste.

But access to composting services can vary widely.

Close to 80% of jurisdictions in California, for example, now require organic waste to be collected (from both businesses and residents). And there are 206 organic-waste processing facilities across the state, with 20 more under construction.

In Los Angeles, for example, most restaurants are required to put organic waste in a separate bin, which haulers take away. Restaurant operators may not know which hauler is picking up their organic waste or where it ends up—it depends on the location.

In sprawling Los Angeles County, the agency LA Sanitation handles wastewater and about one-fourth of the county’s trash, or about 21 million tons of waste each year. Of that, about 4,000 tons is food waste, said Will Chen, an engineer with the LA County Sanitation District. 

To divert from landfills, some of that waste ends up at a sophisticated facility that uses bacteria to feed on the food waste (mixed with waste water), speeding up the process. It captures the resulting methane (so it’s not released into the atmosphere), which is converted into biofuel—enough to both power the facility itself and supply a nearby fueling station as an alternative to planet-damaging fossil fuel. And the solid waste that results after this process is sent to a composting facility.

It seems like a big-scale solution. But Chen said the facility receives only a fraction of the waste it could process.

The county’s network of private waste haulers is territorial and juggles the sometimes-competing demands of separate jurisdictions, he said. An incorporated city like Pasadena, for example, has its own diversion quotas for food waste that might dictate where haulers dump their load. 

Some haulers operate their own composting facilities, but those are often in remote areas, resulting in transportation costs and emissions, Chen noted.

Waste Management, for example, one of the largest recyclers in North America, said it operates 11 organics processing sites in California, including seven composting facilities that processed about 840,000 tons of organic waste last year (including yard waste). That’s among 49 facilities in the U.S. and Canada, including plants that convert fat, oil and grease into biofuel, which fuels the company’s trucks. (WM sees alternative fuel as a big opportunity and plans to build 20 new renewable natural gas facilities across the country by 2026.)

But, of course, fees are also a factor. There are fees for bringing waste to facilities like LA Sanitation’s biogas plant, and Chen said those rates have doubled in recent years. In the end, those fees are paid by customers—and the last thing restaurants want is to see waste-removal fees increase.

In other cities where the infrastructure does not exist, some restaurants are working on a smaller scale with local composters. For example, 14 Chick-fil-A operators in Phoenix send food scraps to Recycled City, which makes compost for area farms. In Fort Worth, Texas, organic waste is collected by Cowboy Compost, which offers Chick-fil-A team members and guests a free bag of compost to use in their home gardens, Beaubien said.

In places where composting isn’t available at all, some restaurants are experimenting with their own in-house aerobic food digestion machines. ORCA makes digesters that break down organic scraps into a liquid, or effluent, safe to go down the drain into wastewater treatment plants. It doesn’t create compost, but it diverts food from landfills and reduces the expense and carbon emissions from trash pickup.

Tom Balsamides, a Chick-fil-A operator in Snellville, Georgia, estimated he diverted more than 3.1 tons of food waste from a local landfill in less than a year after installing an ORCA digester.

It’s probably not a solution that can be used systemwide, said Beaubien, but it’s an example of how local operators are trying to do their part.

And, until there is more of an infrastructure that supports food waste diversion and incentives—or consequences—it does come down to everyone doing their part.

Cimarusti of Providence restaurant is a believer in that collective effort.

“Every one of us can do more,” said Cimarusti. “It is important that everyone participates in some way, no matter what. Because if everyone’s moving the needle, even to a tiny degree, then it helps.”

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