A Plate
£3 one-off
Covers the fuel, gas and gloves that turn one rescued kilo into one hot plate.
- One meal, start to finish
- The maths is on our site
Food rescue, done nightly · Birmingham
Every evening, Second Plate's vans collect what supermarkets and wholesalers can't sell — perfectly good food, hours from the skip — and turn it into hot meals and full fridges across the city. Last year that was 312,000 plates that almost didn't happen.

How it works
Rescue runs on a schedule the food sets. Here's one evening, start to finish.
Three vans, fourteen stops — supermarkets, bakeries, the wholesale market. Whatever's good but unsellable gets weighed, logged and loaded.
Volunteers at the depot triage crates in under an hour: tonight's cooking, tomorrow's fridges, the freezer. Bananas have their own protocol. Ask a volunteer.
The community kitchen turns the night's haul into hot meals for shelters and the Tuesday/Friday community dinners — menu decided entirely by what arrived.
By morning, eleven community fridges across the city are stocked. No forms, no questions, no queue theatre. Take what you need; that's the whole rule.
The impact
The food exists. The hunger exists. We're just the van in between.
Give
We publish what everything costs, so your gift is a decision, not a guess. Cancel monthly gifts anytime, no guilt emails — we promise it in writing.
£3 one-off
Covers the fuel, gas and gloves that turn one rescued kilo into one hot plate.
£12 monthly
Keeps a community fridge shelf stocked every week — the quiet workhorse of the whole operation.
£85 one-off
Funds one full evening loop: driver, fuel, fourteen stops, roughly 400 plates' worth of rescue.
Volunteer
Most shifts are the 7pm sort: two hours, warm depot, good playlist, immediate visible result. No experience needed — the banana protocol takes four minutes to learn and one evening to love.
Van crews, kitchen hands and Friday-dinner hosts ride the same sign-up. Students, retirees and one former food-safety inspector who audits us for sport: all welcome.
The people
I stack the Ladywood fridge on Tuesdays. A woman told me it's why her kids have fruit in the lunchbox all week. That's the entire annual report as far as I'm concerned.
We donate our unsold bread nightly. Watching it leave in the van instead of the bin fixed something in me about this job.
The community dinner doesn't feel like charity. It feels like a big loud family meal where nobody checks your story at the door. That's rarer than the food.
The quarterly plate
The depot
Donations of food, time or money all start with a hello. Businesses with surplus: call the depot line — a van can usually swing by within two nights.