Cook once, freeze twice
One long cooking session that fills a fortnight. Half goes in the fridge for this week, half goes flat into the freezer for the week after.


Rectangular boxes of 25 oz with a snap lid, 50 in the pack. Straight walls, a recessed lid and a flat base, which is the combination that stacks properly in a fridge instead of sliding into a slope.
Fifty clear boxes. Clear matters more than it sounds in a full fridge, where the difference between finding lunch and opening four lids is whether you can see what is inside.
Polypropylene, which is the plastic marked 5 on the recycling triangle. It is the standard material for reusable food storage for two reasons: it holds its shape up to microwave temperatures, and it is not made with bisphenol A. The range is free of BPA, PVC and phthalates.
Buying by the fifty changes how you use a container. A box that cost a few cents can go out with a lunch and stay at the office, go into a freezer for six months, or be handed over full to somebody who is ill without either of you thinking about getting it back. That is a different tool from a glass dish you count and reclaim.
Clear on all sides, so what is in the fridge is identifiable without opening anything. The trade off is that turmeric and tomato will stain it over time. Lids snap rather than clip, so they seal against splashing but are not the choice for a bag carried on its side.
One long cooking session that fills a fortnight. Half goes in the fridge for this week, half goes flat into the freezer for the week after.
Forty minutes on a Sunday that removes two decisions a day: what to eat at seven in the morning and what to eat at three in the afternoon.
Food cooked for a parent, a new baby, a sick friend or a neighbour. The containers are not meant to come back, and that changes every decision.


