Making the Cut: Swedish Dishcloths
Making the Cut is a series on the smart and simple solutions that have (or have not) earned a place in our home.
Executive summary: I’ve ditched the plastic sponge in favor of the Swedish dishcloth and have (largely) been won over.
Sometimes it seems that the Swedes do everything better, doesn’t it? They have their Scandinavian design, hygge, generous parental leave policies, even better death cleaning (so I’ve heard; I can’t attest to it personally). Well, it turns out that they also wash their dishes better. Or at least, more sustainably. I promised a follow-up post to the one about my dish drying rack (see it here), so now I’m ready to tell you all about my journey toward becoming more Swedish.
I grew up around the classic Scotch-Brite sponge, and married into a family that uses the same. Therefore I conclude it must be ubiquitous in American households. But then I read about how gross sponges are, as they absorb everything and never dry out. At least, that was the issue for me - it seemed that our sponges always stayed damp. Maybe it’s fear-mongering to insist that bacteria will have a field day in your sponge and make you sick (I’ve never known anyone to trace their illness to a sponge), but there’s a certain ick factor with having this soggy thing constantly touching our dishes. Plus, it feels wasteful to be regularly throwing out this piece of yellow and green plastic.
Then I came across Swedish dishcloths, which say they are made of 100% organic materials (mostly wood-derived cellulose/pulp and maybe some cotton). This makes them renewable and biodegradable. So when it was time to replace our plastic sponges, I tried out a pack of (attractively-patterned) Swedish dishcloths. My verdict? I’m sticking with them! I keep one for washing dishes and one for wiping surfaces (e.g., counters, table, stove). They dry out between uses (they’re thin, so it’s fast), which makes me feel like they aren’t a bacteria breeding ground (but I’m not a microbiologist, this is just me and the “ick factor” again).
We keep our dishcloths out of the way by hanging them on our dish drying rack. It also looks less weird when they dry all stiff and bunched up if they’re suspended, rather than standing up on the counter.
I admit the other part of the reason for switching is purely aesthetic. If you look at Pinterest-worthy kitchens, there is no place for a neon-colored sponge. If you see any dish-washing implements at all, it’s a scrub brush. I tried those too but felt that they weren’t doing a good job of cleaning my dishes. But the gray and white Swedish dishcloths blended in a lot better, and for a while, I just laid them flat on the counter to dry. The issue with that is they get very stiff and wrinkly when they dry out and start standing up on the counter. So I decided to cut a small hole in each of my dishcloths and suspend them from a hook on either end of my dish rack. Voila, problem solved!
The one other drawback I’ve noticed is that these dishcloths seem to absorb colors. If I use them on a pot with pasta sauce or curry, they will turn red or yellow. I can get most of the stain out with soap and a diligent scrub, but it seems to me that the Scotch-Brite did not have this issue of picking up colors so easily. It does make me a little more careful/ precious about using my dishcloths on brightly colored residue, which is definitely not ideal. Come on, this is a kitchen! But I’ve decided that overall, the pros outweigh the cons, so I just rinse my dishes more carefully first if I know that we just ate something more colorful.
So there you have it – I have turned on America’s widespread use of Scotch-Brite and become 0.001% Swedish in my habits. Because apparently they know how to design chic minimalist household goods, and dishcloths are no exception!