I was explaining Bokashi to a woman I met the other day with my usual enthusiasm. (Being a bit of a compost nerd at heart and all that.)
She was really interested, got it immediately and you could see the light bulb go on as she went through the mental steps of how this would work at home. Then came the giggle.
“Well I think I’ll have to call mine Allan. Reminds me of my Dad.”
So it turns out Dad always ate up everyone’s leftovers. Quite proud he was of it too. Pity help the kids if they ate up everything themselves…
Back in the old days everyone had a household pig. I’ve often thought of that as I pull off the lid of my bin and shovel in the day’s scraps. A pig would have been nice but a Bokashi bin is better, I would never have been able to serve the guy up for Christmas dinner. Better we feed the garden instead.
No, our Bokashi bin at home is called Junior. Named by our daughter, who I must say is very glad to have him around. Junior loves leftover spaghetti and meatballs, and is particularly fond of vegetables and other icky-sticky suspicious items that she would really rather not face just this day.
“I know, I’ll give it to Junior!” I fall for it every time…
So what’s the Bokashi bin in your family called?
Bokashiworld 