The journey of crooked carrots and other ‘ugly’ vegetables

Date:

By Terri Soumilas

Food relief has been a constant thread throughout my working and volunteering life. I have stood in food‑relief queues, coordinated distribution, and observed the systems that determine who receives food, what kind of food they receive, and under what conditions. 

Across these experiences, one truth has become increasingly clear: our food‑relief system is built on surplus, waste, and stigma rather than on dignity, rights, and equity.

In recent years I subscribed to a farmer’s box which includes what the industry calls ugly fruit — produce rejected by supermarkets because it doesn’t conform to a narrow aesthetic standard. A carrot, for example, is expected to be long, straight, uniformly orange, and roughly the same size as every other carrot in the bag. 

Anyone who has grown carrots knows this is nonsense. Carrots emerge from the soil in all shapes and sizes — twisted, forked, short, fat, thin, curved.

Yet in a capitalist food system, these natural variations are treated as defects. Supermarkets reject them. Farmers pile them onto scrap heaps. Some are diverted to “seconds” stands. Others are collected by food‑rescue organisations such as OzHarvest or Foodbank, who then distribute them to food‑relief agencies.

This is the pipeline: farm surplus to supermarket rejection, to food‑rescue organisations, local relief agencies, means‑testing and rationing, and finally, end users.

By the time this food reaches people in need, it has already been rejected multiple times.

When waste becomes charity

The problem is not the food itself. Imperfect produce is nutritious, fresh, and often more flavourful. The problem is the value system attached to it.

We have normalised the idea that people experiencing poverty should be grateful for food that the market has already deemed unworthy. We praise ourselves for “saving food from landfill” while ignoring the deeper issue: we are giving people the leftovers of a system that excludes them in the first place.

This creates a hierarchy of food value:

  • Tier 1: supermarket‑perfect produce
  • Tier 2: discounted imperfect produce
  • Tier 3: charity‑bound rejects
  • Tier 4: landfill

People in poverty are placed at Tier 3 — not because of nutritional logic, but because of market logic.

The human cost of a waste‑based system

At the end of this chain is a person who must: prove their poverty, wait in line, accept rationed quantities, and walk away with a couple of bags of wilted produce.

And they are expected to feel grateful.

This is not generosity. It is a system that manages food waste by directing it toward people who have no choice. It reinforces stigma, power imbalances, and the idea that those experiencing hardship should accept whatever is offered — even if it is the food others have already rejected.

A more honest conversation

Food relief is often framed as kindness, charity, and community spirit. But the reality is more complex. It is a system shaped by: supermarket aesthetics, capitalist efficiency, waste‑management priorities, social hierarchies, and moral judgement

If everything that grows is accepted as normal, prices will come tumbling down, to where we can all afford to buy local fruit and vegetables. If we are serious about addressing food insecurity, we must shift from a charity model to a food‑justice model — one that recognises food as a human right, not a commodity distributed according to market leftovers. 

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