Better basics for everyday living

We started with one problem. A case of containers arrived crushed, and the lids did not seal. Everything since has come from the same habit: we buy the thing, use it in a real kitchen for a week, and only then decide whether it is good enough to carry our name.

Two materials do most of the work for us. Sugarcane bagasse is the fibre left over after cane is pressed for sugar. It is what you might call agricultural residue if you were writing about it in a report. We think of it as raw material. We take that wet pulp, mould it into the shape we need, and dry it into something rigid enough to hold a loaded plate of food. The result is a bowl or tray that feels different from paper or foam. It has some weight to it, and it does not go soggy when you put something wet on it.

PET is the other material we rely on most. We draw it clear so a cold drink still looks like a cold drink when you hold the cup up to the light. You can see what is inside the container without opening it. That matters more than you would expect when you are working through a busy shift and need to grab the right thing at a glance.

We test the way people actually use these things. Not on a lab bench with instruments, but in the ways that break them: a plate loaded with something heavy and wet, a cup dropped from counter height, a lid opened and closed repeatedly until it finally stops sealing properly. If it does not hold up under that kind of treatment, we do not pack it.

We count our products in the sizes that people actually run out of. A box for a household kitchen, and a case for a place that goes through them by the sleeve. That is how we arrived at 143 products across 8 departments, and it is why we keep making them this way.

We did not set out to build a catalogue. We started because a case of containers arrived crushed, and the lids would not seal. That was the whole problem at the beginning: we bought something, it failed in a real kitchen, and nobody seemed to have fixed it.

So we found one that worked. Then another. Every line we have added since came from the same habit: run into something you need, use it for a week, decide whether it is good enough to carry our name. We kept running into gaps. A plate that bends when you load it with something wet. A cup that cracks if you drop it from counter height. A lid you open and close until the seal gives out.

That is how one product became 8 departments. We make plates and bowls from sugarcane bagasse, which is what is left after the cane is pressed for sugar. We mould it wet and dry it into shapes that hold up. For cold drinks we draw PET clear so you can see what you are holding. We pack in the counts people actually run through, whether that is a household box or a sleeve for a kitchen that goes through them fast.

143 products now, across compostable tableware, drinkware, deli containers, take-out packs, bowls, pads for pets and people, and a few pieces of kitchenware. They all started the same way: we needed it, we could not find one we trusted, so we made it ourselves.

We work in two materials most of the time, and we pick the one that fits what a product actually has to do.

Sugarcane bagasse is what is left after the cane is pressed for sugar. We mould it wet and dry it into plates and bowls. It holds up under hot food without bending or soaking through. You can put bagasse items in the freezer and pull them out ready to use. 57 of our lines are made this way, and every one of them is compostable. We do not coat them with PFAS. They are not for liquids on their own, and they will not survive a microwave cycle. If you need something that goes in the oven or holds soup without a separate container, this material will let you down.

PET plastic does things that plant fibre cannot. We draw it clear so a cold drink looks like a cold drink. Our PET lids seal tight enough that 41 of our products carry a leak-proof or leak-resistant claim. The plastic is BPA-free. It handles refrigeration and light reheating, but you cannot compost it at home or in a commercial facility. If your priority is a container that disappears after one use, PET is the wrong choice.

Aluminium shows up in 6 of our products where stiffness matters more than anything else. We do not pretend every material can do every job.

We pack in the counts people actually run out in. That sounds simple, and it is, but it took us a while to get it right. Early on we ordered containers by the sleeve, and a household of four would empty one in about ten days. A case of fifty sleeves sat in storage for months. That was waste, just a different kind.

So we split our range into two sizes. The household pack holds enough for a week or two of normal use. You open it, you use it, you reach for another when the cupboard is bare. No half-empty boxes under the sink. For cafes, food trucks, catering operations that go through supplies by the shift, we pack cases. These are larger counts because a busy kitchen does not stop to reorder every few days. It orders once, stocks it, and gets back to work.

The material we choose depends on what the product has to do. We make 57 lines from sugarcane bagasse, which is what remains after cane is pressed for sugar. It moulds into plates and bowls that hold hot, wet food without buckling, and it breaks down in a commercial compost facility.

For cold drinks and deli items where you want to see what is inside, we use clear PET plastic. It is light, it seals tightly, and it lets a soda or a salad look like itself. Across all 143 products, from 6-inch plates up through 32-ounce cups and 36-inch training pads, the same rule applies: pack it so the person using it runs low at roughly the same time they would think to buy more.