Strategies for Low-Effort, Low-Waste Cooking for One

Living alone, it's far too easy for me to slide into takeaway or toast-for-dinner mode — especially on low-energy days when even simple tasks feel like an uphill battle.

While that's OK sometimes, too many fast food or snack-based dinners aren't great for my health or wallet, and create a lot of food and packaging waste.

To make things easier, I've developed simple storage and cooking systems that keep food visible and fresh while ensuring I use things up.

Here's how I make cooking for one feel more doable, affordable and lower impact.

Making low-effort meals easy for myself

Much of the low-waste cooking advice out there appears to be aimed at people who either need to feed a cast of thousands or have boundless energy and time to make bulk food from scratch every week.

I'm neither of those.

Often, it's just me eating at home. And with fluctuating energy levels caused by chronic pain and a neurodivergent brain, I sometimes don't even have the energy left to make a quick meal.

So, I've designed my approach to eating around my variable capacity.

I aim to make two big meals a week — one-pot wonders such as curries, soups and pasta — andimmediately freeze at least one serve of each. That way, I don't waste leftovers and always have easy frozen meals ready to go instead of resorting to costly takeaway when I'm tired.

I also capitalise when my brain is firing on all cylinders — the morning — to decide what I'll eat that night. That might mean pulling something out of the freezer early to defrost during the day, so dinner becomes a four-minute microwave reheat job.

If I do resort to a very basic meal, such as baked beans or two-minute noodles, I'll look for no-effort ways to add fresh veggies or extra protein — maybe dropping in an egg and a few spinach or kale leaves fresh-picked from my backyard permaculture garden.

I store food well and avoid over-buying

I'm hyper-conscious of food waste, knowing that one-third of the 7.6 million tonnes of food ditched every year in Australia happens within households.

While the scale is daunting, it shows individual actions matter. The changes I make in my kitchen can be a part of the solution.

That starts with how I buy and store food.

I keep my pantry well-stocked with bulk cooking-from-scratch ingredients: vegetable and olive oils, vinegars, flour, grains and beans, pasta, diced tomatoes, coconut milk and loads of dried herbs and spices.

All of that is stored well to prolong its life, but I haven't splurged on expensive new containers. Most things get tipped into big old pickle jars labelled with a paint pen, or airtight containers I picked up second-hand.

To avoid over-buying, I use a free app to collate a digital shopping list on my phone. I add things as they run out so I never have to carry the mental load of figuring out what needs restocking.

Buying in bulk where possible equates to less plastic and also means I can limit supermarket visits to just once a week or fortnight. There, I stick to my list, only buying things I actually need (with the odd exception for a great discount on something I use often).

I consider alternative ways to source food

In recent months, I've experimented with reducing reliance on major supermarkets, both in fury over their price-gouging antics and to sidestep food grown with chemicals, wrapped in single-use plastic.

Embracing the permaculture principle "use and value diversity", I've started viewing supermarkets as a last resort after lower-impact and more affordable options such as:

Growing food in my small city garden, especially cut-and-come-again leafy greens, lettuces and fresh herbs that would spoil easily in store-bought bags.

Swapping with fellow food-growing friends or neighbours — some suburbs even offer organised community food swaps.

Shopping for pantry staples at a discount warehouse that sells food near its use-by date at massively reduced prices.

Bin diving at my local supermarket.

Buying grass-fed meat from local small-scale regenerative farmers (eating predominantly vegetarian means I can afford the odd better-quality meat dish).

Getting 'scraptastic' and using up what I already have

In permaculture, we're encouraged to "'produce no waste'" and that extends to how I cook — by giving scraps a second life.

I collect veggie offcuts in a big freezer bag and, once full, make batches of stock or food-scrap bone broth in a slow cooker. That base makes most meals more delicious, for free.

I also follow the "scraptastic" cooking approach, throwing veggies past their prime into soups, stews, pies and pasta sauces.

But even with the best of intentions, some food waste is unavoidable.

In landfill, food rots anaerobically and produces the greenhouse gas methane. Rather than tossing my food waste into landfill, I feed scraps to my chickens or add them to my home composting system. In many suburbs, council green bins are a good option, too.

Realistically, I'll probably always find daily food prep tedious. But with a bit of planning and some simple systems to lean on, I can eat well most days without draining my energy, bank account or the planet more than necessary.