Lauren Justice
Aaron Conradt snacks on a strawberry inside a grocery dumpster while Luke van den Langenberg lights the scene with a cellphone.
It’s evening when Luke van den Langenberg drives his old Toyota to the dimly lit parking lot of a chain grocery store on the west side. He pulls up to a dumpster, and his friend Aaron Conradt jumps out of the car. Conradt peers lovingly into the dark bin and then jumps inside. van den Langenberg hovers next to the dumpster as Conradt brings up produce for him to inspect. “Dude, take all the garlic,” says van den Langenberg. “I made garlic chicken from the dumpster once.”
For van den Langenberg, Conradt and a few others, this weekly dive into the muck is what they call grocery shopping. The only food van den Langenberg buys are dairy and alcohol. The rest is scavenged from area trash bins.
“He’s hands-down the most dumpster-friendly person I’ve ever met,” Conradt says about van den Langenberg. “His idea of the ‘trash’ is like a bin of opportunity, and he’s not afraid to get his hands dirty. Luke really is just always looking to better his surroundings in a more sustainable manner, from food waste to clothing.”
The two wear sturdy shoes, pants, gloves and jackets, all secondhand gear that can withstand a mess. The dumpster is nearly full with miscellaneous packaged foods, fresh produce that is misshapen or lightly bruised, dented beverage cans and a variety of other discarded foods.
“Food like this definitely needs to go to another individual who cannot put fresh fruits and vegetables on the table,” Conradt said. “There should be an easy way for grocery stores and restaurants to donate it.”
In less than 30 minutes, the two systematically sort through the entire dumpster by the light of a smartphone. Conradt bobs up from the dumpster to snack on a banana and, later, ripe blueberries from a sealed plastic package.
Their faces light up as they discover packages of unexpired cinnamon rolls, organic apples, parmesan-peppercorn bread, cans of Red Bull, sealed pie crusts, nearly a dozen bottles of honey, large spiral cut hams, plastic-wrapped chicken, bacon and much more. All of it goes in a cardboard box outside the dumpster to be hauled away.
“Some people get freaked out about me eating from the trash, but I do it in a safe way,” van den Langenberg says. “I go to the USDA website, triple-check it and cook the meat well.”
The two bring home hundreds of dollars’ worth of groceries every week from dumpsters. van den Langenberg claims he’s only gotten sick once in the eight years he’s been foraging, suspecting a half-frozen pizza was the culprit.
van den Langenberg’s interest in waste began as a freshman at Winneconne High School, when he noticed how many useful items were being discarded. He developed a recycling operation in one of his classrooms to send gently used school supplies to Somalia. He also created a high school composting bin that provided nutrients for his garden.
“I’ve been going through trash for the past eight years and really dumpster diving for the last four,” van den Langenberg says. “In high school I started digging through the trash because so many things were being thrown away that could still be put to good use. Then I came to Madison, where there are a whole bunch of freegans and sustainable-minded people going through dumpsters.”
He graduated from UW-Madison in 2014 and now works at Rowheels, a Madison company that created a new type of wheelchair wheel.
Every August, van den Langenberg also takes advantage of “Hippie Christmas,” when leases are up and students line the curbs with still usable electronics, clothes and household goods.
“It’s a hard balance because there is a lot of cool stuff to find in the trash, but I don’t want people throwing this stuff away at all,” van den Langenberg says. “I will be happy when there is a day that I can’t dumpster dive. There’s so much economic value in this stuff.”
Average value of food scavenged from dumpster each week: $200+
Recent favorite finds: Cherry-smoked pork tenderloin, strawberries, premium dark chocolate
Worst find: Box of sex toys, bag of puke
Best months for diving: November and March (because it is not too cold to freeze produce but cool enough to preserve it)
