I often make environmentally-friendly choices when I cook — except when it comes to my gas stove.
Why does switching to electric feel like such a sacrifice?
I like to consider myself an eco-conscious cook. I shop at local farmers markets as much as I can. I eat mostly vegetables and sustainably-sourced fish. On the rare occasions I serve meat, I try to choose the best quality. I compost. I recycle. I save plastic bags and containers and reuse them until they disintegrate. I eliminate food waste as much as possible, always willing to put a passed “best by” date to the test.
I know there are areas I could improve. I still eat my fair share of dairy products. I couldn’t tell you which type of eggs are the most ethical. I prefer almond milk in my cereal. I’m sure there are some other environmental sins I’m committing and haven’t listed. But my point is: I try and I care.
I know there’s not much those of us who aren’t government officials or CEOs can do to make a noticeable dent in the world’s carbon emissions, still I like to think I’m doing my part.
So why, when there’s yet another study about the negative impact of gas cooking on my planet and house, do I not feel the same moral urge to change my habits and give up gas?
Growing up, my family had an electric stove. I didn’t think there was any difference between using electric versus gas, but I did know fire made food taste better. Our family loved using our outdoor grill, making dinner on it at least three times a week. We were really pompous about it too, preferring charcoal and wood chips and remarking how propane grills were basically like cooking indoors.
When I got to college, my sophomore year dorm was in an old converted apartment building and it came equipped with one of those old rickety gas stoves – the ones that are so small, you put a big pot to boil pasta water on it and it takes over every burner. I realized instantly how superior it was to the electric unit I had at home.
Cooking with gas is a more sensory experience. Gas heats up pots and boils water quicker. It also gives you greater control over temperature. Turn the heat off a burner, and it doesn’t retain heat like an electric cooktop. Your pan will retain heat, but you won’t accidentally overcook your food or develop that layer of burnt soup at the bottom of the pot because you forgot to move it to a cold burner.
Gas ranges can also be another tool in your cooking arsenal – like when you want to char corn on the cob directly over a flame or broil chicken thighs so the skin gets extra crispy.
When I cook with gas, I feel like I’m cooking. I’m Emeril Lagasse, zipping around the kitchen with flames dancing around me as saute, sear and simmer. I’m Julia Child. I’m Ratatouille. I’m Tom Hanks in Cast Away. There’s a visceral reaction to cooking with gas – it feels almost primitive. Even if I’m cooking in my precious little modern apartment while following a recipe on my iPad.
I know switching to electric is the more ethical choice. Yet even chefs who have chosen to change their menus to reduce carbon emissions still cook with gas, too. I wonder if restaurants like Eleven Madison Park – which famously converted to an all-Vegan menu – would also do away with natural gas cooking. Though many high-end restaurants use induction burners, a lot of kitchens also come equipped with gas ranges or grills.
Perhaps now that we know more about the extent of gas’s effect on our health and planet, more people will be inclined to switch to electric (if governments don’t make that choice for the first). And the optimist in me hopes these research findings lead to more innovations in electric cooking methods and mimic the experience of gas cooking. They’re making steaks in labs now, anything is possible.
Until then, I’ll just head back over to my stove, turn the dial until I hear that familiar click of the pilot light, the soothing whoosh of the flame igniting, set my pan on top – and try and hope that a perfectly-cooked meal masks the bad taste left in my mouth from knowing I might be sending our planet into an even faster decline.