The compostable bag that wouldn't die

The "world's first 100% Compostable chip bag" is proving to be one tough nut to crack in the compost heap. We dug this Sun Chips bag out of the compost over Memorial Day weekend for an impromptu photo session, and discovered that after 69 days -- just under seven weeks, half the time it's supposed to take to decompose -- it didn't look much worse than it did in Week 1. We could probably run it through the dishwasher and reuse it. Then again, maybe that would jump-start the composting process. Hmm....

Finally: the perfect compost tote

When I look back to past failed composting attempts, I can’t help wondering how much of our problem was due to having an inadequate compost container.

I’ve always refused to buy a bucket specifically designed for carrying food scraps, yet I never found anything around the house that worked very well. A large plastic ice cream tub has both a lid and a handle, but the handle is too weak to carry much of a load. And it doesn’t help that it’s transparent.

I wonder how many times I’ve tossed one of these re-engineered coffee canisters in the recycling bin before I finally realized that I was holding the perfect compost tote right there in my hand.

Think about it: That side handle, built right into the container, is never going to fail you. Sturdy, well-fitting lid: Check. You can’t see through it. And it’s really the perfect size, because if a bucket of compost gets too heavy, you’re less likely to want to deal with it. And that‘s how the process can begin to break down, long before your compost does.

More weird crap for the compost heap

Yes, those are balloons. According to the package, they are “100% natural biodegradable,“ so we’ll toss them in the compost heap (minus the plastic package) and see what happens.

At first I assumed this was another example of Corporate America jumping on the “Go Green” bandwagon. But it turns out that balloon litter is a big problem because of all those balloon releases at public events. Eventually what goes up must come down. Balloon fragments are commonly found among the debris gathered during the Center for Marine Conservation’s International Coastal Cleanup.

The balloon industry has been pushing biodegradable rubber balloons for years in an effort to improve its image among environmentalists, arguing in a widely cited article on the Internet that  balloon litter is “a disintegrating issue.”

Well, these used balloons are going in the compost today. We’ll see how they do against the  Sun Chips bag, which has a five-week head start. And our compost, by the way, is gaining momentum. When I turned the pile on a frosty morning earlier this week, I saw steam.

Making a chip bag disappear (or not)

The "World's First 100% Compostable Chip Package" is supposed to break down in 14 weeks. It didn't take nearly that long to break down my resistance to buying a bag of SunChips, despite the fact that they're priced way above my usual 10 cents-per-ounce standard for salty snacks.

I finally caved in and bought a bag on March 19, less than a week after I saw an online ad promoting the new bags. The chips are, after all, delicious. And I was curious to see how the bags would perform. The answer: In our case, not so hot. At least, not so far.

This may be as much a reflection on the poor internal combustion of our compost heap as anything else, but  when we dug up our SunChips bag yesterday after 31 days submerged in a stew of old oak leaves, weeds and food scraps, it looked ... well, like a filthy but otherwise uninjured chip bag.

But the test continues. Not just of the bag, but of our admittedly less-than-scientific composting skills. Before dunking the bag back under yesterday, we added a big dose of grass clippings and gave everything a good stir, which may help.

Can Sun Chips make you a better person?

I’ve never been a successful composter, despite probably a dozen attempts over two decades. The one brew-mound that got closest to actually producing soil wound up as my most spectacular failure, obliterated by a bulldozer during a flood-prevention excavation project. (When the kids sled down the hill in the backyard these days, I sometimes think about how a few feet under all that fresh white snow lies a fetid pocket of pumpkin corpses and banana skins.)

But last night I trekked out to the most recent half-formed compost heap, inspired by, of all things, an advertiser. I’d clicked on a Sun Chips video showing how its new biodegradable bag supposedly decomposes in a compost bin, and was encouraged to do my part by starting my own compost bin, that I could then presumably drop my new Sun Chips bags in. I didn’t rush out to buy a bag of Sun Chips, but I was suddenly overcome with an urgent need to see if I could disintegrate an empty carton of Full Moon Pale Ale.

I tore the box up and mixed it in with some fuzzy corn tortilla dough and a few wilted lettuce leaves. Maybe this will be the year everything comes together, after it all falls apart.

In the meantime, though, I’m left with this nagging feeling that somehow Sun Chips has managed to plant something besides sweetness and light in my brain. Is it possible that the people who run this company are so well-intentioned that they only want to save the planet? Or am I going to start sleepdriving to the nearest convenience store, murmuring “Must have Sun Chips... must have Sun Chips....?”