A High-End Freegan?

I'm shifting directions a bit here. Thinking about a new blog project, and before I commit to setting up a whole new URL, creating a whole new name, etc., I want to get some of my thoughts down here.

New blog idea: High-end freegan, is that me? In case you're unfamiliar, "freegan" is a hybrid of "free" and "vegan" and refers to people who are anticapitalistic/anticonsumer, who espouse recycling and dumpster diving, particularly as related to gathering food wasted by supermarkets/restaurants. How does this relate to me? I like the good life, but I hate waste. I love high-end things, but I don't want to pay top dollar. I am obsessed with gourmet food and all things foodie, but I never met a leftover I wouldn't take home with me (and that includes other people's).

I think High-End Freegan (that's me?) started in earnest when I lived with my single mom in San Diego and we were struggling to make ends meet, and I'd cut paper napkins in half, along the fold, and give each of us one half at dinner, to save money. Unless you're a toddler or are eating bolognese or lobster, who really needs a whole napkin anyway?

HEF took it to a new level, though, at fancy New York City restaurant Craft, ten or so years ago, with my partner's family. Her dad was treating six of us to dinner there, and we had a big table near the window, and it was fabulous. We started with incredible $14 champagne cocktails, followed by an a la carte menu (that's how Tom Colicchio does it there, last I checked) of $16 brussels sprouts and $24 meat plates (and those prices were 10 years ago!). The bill racks up when sides aren't included. Dry martinis were followed by expensive wines, and we were delighted by everything brought to us.

We were way too full for dessert. Or at least the rest of the family was. I was seated at the end, next to a two-top, who had a dessert sampler (is anything better than a dessert sampler?) of superfancy chocolate-covered raisins and caramel corn and peanut brittles. The couple who was enjoying this couldn't possibly finish it, and I looked over longingly at their leftover popcorn clusters, like a stray dog. They happily offered me up a sample, and I gladly took it. The caramel corn was heaven.

When the couple left, I saw a generous portion of their dessert sampler remaining. I knew it would only go in the trash, and, several drinks into my night, I was brazen. I grabbed the plate and started munching, to the horror of my sister-in-law. (Clearly this is not the way people at nice restaurants behave.) But wouldn't Colicchio want that corn to be enjoyed, savored, finished off? And that's exactly what I did. I might've even put some of it in a paper napkin and stashed it into my (free-gift Gucci) handbag. And a high-end, snobby, urban freegan was born.

Fast forward at least a decade, and I've just left my high-paying job as an editor at a well-known fashion magazine. I don't have a regular income source yet, and I now have two kids, and a mortgage, and, well, still a high-end palette. And I still like free stuff, and I am on a budget more than ever before!

So I've started walking the streets (and everywhere, really) with an eye for free stuff. New freegan procurings since I've been away from an office: An ugly-cute '80s Petite Sophisticate striped vest found on Bergen Street in Park Slope. A box full of interlocking blocks for my child (they're soaking in hot soapy water right now). Lots of cookies/chocolate chunks/dried food/whatever from Fairway in Red Hook.

What do you think? Is this an intriguing lifestyle possibility for me?