The sordid details of my deranged ritual are nothing you need to know. I will say this: What I did to pinch pennies and to repent for the environmentally inconsiderate ways of the modern world ended up costing me way too many precious Saturday-morning hours, which I could’ve spent, I don’t know, birding or handwriting letters to friends, telling them how much they mean to me. I’m not here to relive those dark times. I’m here to tell you that there is a better way to free yourself from the tyranny of cheap baggies, the crippling guilt over single-use plastics, the worry over whether a reused sandwich bag’s seal will give out at the most inopportune time, and the dread when a bag does fail you and you’ve got a food-splattered floor to clean up.
My name is Rose, and I am in love with my Stasher bags.
Stashers are reusable (as in, meant to be reusable) storage bags made from silicone. And they can go from your fridge to your freezer to your microwave to your pot of boiling water to your 400 °F oven to your dishwasher and back again. They’re available in a variety of sizes and colors. Oh, the colors! Such aesthetically pleasing, happiness-inducing pastel hues! (They also come in neon, if that’s more your thing.) And right now, they’re also on sale: Both the neon and pastel multipacks, which include four different Stasher sizes, are down to $41 from Stasher direct, including shipping. Though this is not the best deal we’ve ever seen, I’m contemplating it nonetheless.
In our guide to the best reusable produce bags, guide writer Anna Perling praised Stashers for being slim and space-saving yet durable, and I wholeheartedly concur. While my Tupperware cabinet torments me with its calamitous array of mismatched containers and lids, my Stasher drawer (actually about a third of a drawer, with each Stasher folded in half) is a place of easy access and blissful calm. As for their being durable? I got my first one about two years ago, and there’s nary a nick or scratch on it. And its seal (which I find really satisfying to open and close, in a tactile way) is so dependable that I’d let it do my taxes.
I use my smallest Stashers (about half the size of a sandwich bag) to store fresh herbs, lemon wedges, sausages, and fancy cheese, as well as to pack on-the-go snacks. My sandwich-sized Stashers are used mainly for leftovers—or, more adventurously, for marinating one or two chicken breasts or fish filets. Yet I was pleased to discover that when I’ve used them for sandwiches, the bag is slightly wider at the top, which makes getting the sandwich in and out really easy.
As an early Christmas present to me, I asked my husband to splash out over Black Friday on three of the larger Stashers, which cost roughly $15 per bag after various discounts and special offers. (Keep in mind that we purchased these à la carte at Bed Bath & Beyond; it’s definitely more economical to buy Stashers in bundles and starter kits—such as this five-pack, which is also currently 30% off.) Our selection included one Stasher bag with a stand-up bottom. This one easily holds our weekly, 4-pound roast chicken, both before we cook it and after we eat it (we stash what’s left of the bird back in the same bag for making chicken noodle soup). I clean all of my Stashers by standing them upside down in the top rack of my dishwasher, and I have never encountered oily residue or an unpleasant odor.
Speaking of splashing out on Stashers, I realize that’s the rub: They’re not cheap. Over the past couple of years, my plan has been to slowly accrue them when they’re on sale and (as mentioned above) to request them as gifts. When will I know that I have enough Stashers? I … don’t know. What’s the harm in acquiring a few more than I need when feeling good about purchasing well-designed, well-intentioned products is what I want? What is the limit on joy?
My name is Rose, and I am about to go buy more Stasher bags.
This article was edited by Elissa Sanci and Annemarie Conte.
