Fifteen years ago, I found myself feeling like a misfit finance reporter adrift in the bustling heart of San Francisco, yearning for a transformation that would carry me into the fast-paced realm of technology journalism. My professional life at the time felt caught between worlds — I understood the numbers behind business, yet I longed for the pulse of innovation that characterized Silicon Valley. It was during that period of self‑reinvention that fortune smiled upon me: I managed to secure a serendipitous meeting with Tony Fadell and Matt Rogers, two visionary engineers who had recently left Apple. At the time, they possessed an audacious and almost playful ambition — to take something as mundane as the household thermostat and make it not only functional but genuinely desirable, even elegant.
Last week, I encountered Matt Rogers once more, and it felt as though a full circle had quietly closed. Today he remains deeply committed to his lifelong mission of transforming the most ordinary of household objects into devices that fuse utility with artistry. At his new company, Mill, that passion continues to thrive, but the stage and the challenges have shifted. When I first met Rogers and his partner, Tony Fadell, their fledgling enterprise Nest operated above a modest shop located near the Town and Country Village Mall, facing the sprawling Stanford campus. They welcomed me into their workspace — two strangers allowing an untested journalist into their world. I had no credentials in tech reporting, yet their openness and trust would become a pivotal turning point in my career.
I recall Tony’s words from that day as vividly as if they were spoken yesterday: “I’m going to show you something, but you have to promise not to write about it yet.” I gave my word, intrigued but cautious, and followed them into a small side room. There, placed unassumingly on a table, sat the prototype of what would soon revolutionize the concept of home automation — the earliest version of the Nest Thermostat. Months later, once the product officially launched, I published a major story chronicling its debut and the company’s rise. The rest rapidly became part of Silicon Valley legend: Google acquired Nest for a striking $3.2 billion, securing its founders a place among the defining innovators of their generation.
Seeing Matt again this past Friday stirred all those memories back to life. Much has evolved since that humble first meeting. Following the sale of Nest, Matt channelled his ingenuity into causes beyond the typical tech frontier. He founded a collaborative initiative named Incite, focused on addressing the monumental challenge of climate change, and later contributed his expertise to matters of public policy, working alongside Pete Buttigieg, then serving as U.S. Secretary of Transportation. Yet, despite all these transitions, one thing has clearly not changed — his fascination with reimagining how everyday life interacts with technology. With Mill, he is once again taking an unglamorous household element — this time, food waste — and striving to make it compelling, even beautiful. Mill’s sleek, high-tech bin transforms table scraps into a fragrant, refined powder that feels more like a product of design innovation than simple waste management.
Upon entering Mill’s polished Silicon Valley headquarters, one does not expect to be greeted by a large, bright yellow sun emblem suspended from the ceiling. Matt quickly clarified the curiosity: “That’s the Walmart logo,” he explained with a grin. The building had once housed Walmart’s e-commerce division, and in an act of creative nonchalance, the new tenants hadn’t bothered to remove the sign. The moment triggered a personal flashback for me. Over a decade ago, during my own professional metamorphosis from finance to technology reporting, I had roamed this very office when it belonged to another duo of innovators, Venky Harinarayan and Anand Rajaraman, who spearheaded Walmart’s Silicon Valley innovation hub. There was something poetic about standing there once again, surrounded by a different generation of inventors but chasing the same dream — turning bold ideas into tangible progress.
Matt led me on a walk through the workspace, where I met Adam Mittleman, Mill’s head of engineering and yet another alumnus of Apple’s legendary design culture. The attention to detail in every corner of the lab was unmistakable. Specialized rooms buzzed with activity where devices underwent rigorous testing — being opened and closed countless times, subjected to heat, vibration, and drops, all to ensure the highest standard of endurance. One section was humorously labeled the “stink bomb area,” where chemical engineers labored to achieve the paradoxical task of making decomposing food smell pleasant. They demonstrated their work by showing me tubs filled with raw scraps and, in contrast, bins of the final output: a light brown, powdery material dubbed “food grounds.” Eighty percent lighter and completely dry, this product could be safely stored for months or spread as nutrient-rich fertilizer for gardens. For customers preferring convenience, Mill even offers a pickup service to repurpose the material elsewhere, reinforcing a closed-loop approach to waste.
The principle behind the device is elegant: wet, odorous, perishable food is converted into a stable, far lighter substance that resists spoilage. The machine can process roughly one hundred pounds of leftovers into about twenty pounds of dehydrated remnants — a transformation that dramatically reduces the environmental and logistical burden associated with waste collection. This efficiency matters more than one might expect. Food accounts for a substantial portion of household garbage, and its weight and perishability force collection trucks to make frequent rounds. Those trucks consume more fuel, burn more diesel, and release greater emissions. By lightening food waste and extending the time it can be stored, Mill could help municipalities cut operational costs and carbon footprints simultaneously.
Currently, Mill Food Recyclers have found their way into tens of thousands of homes. Customers may choose to purchase a unit outright for about a thousand dollars or subscribe through a monthly plan for thirty‑five dollars, reflecting the growing appeal of sustainability as a service. In true Apple-inspired fashion, every aspect of Mill’s design radiates a meticulous dedication to user experience. Matt often repeats a simple promise to his team: “If you can eat it, you can put it in a Mill Food Recycler — and it just works.” That declaration embodies not only functional simplicity but also a philosophy, echoing the ethos of innovators like Steve Jobs. Even notoriously tricky substances, such as watermelon rinds or gelatin — the latter being infamously resistant to dehydration — have been mastered through patient experimentation. One corner of the office displays jars of these challenging materials, a visual reminder of perseverance through complexity.
As for what lies ahead, Mill has secured well over $100 million in funding — enough to push the company toward broader production and ambitious scaling. Matt remains reserved about the details, but his intention is unmistakable: to bring Mill to mass-market ubiquity. He acknowledges that hardware ventures are inherently demanding — profit emerges only when products reach immense scale, much like the trajectory followed by smartphones or home appliances before them. At first glance, the concept of a luxury food recycling machine may seem whimsical, perhaps even quixotic. Yet history has demonstrated that revolutionary consumer products often begin as indulgences of the few. Once upon a time, dishwashers were seen as extravagant novelties available only to the affluent. Today, they are fixtures in nearly every household. If Mill succeeds, perhaps the same will one day be said of devices that transform waste into something purposeful — proving once again that thinking differently can change not just how we live, but how responsibly we inhabit our planet.
Sourse: https://www.businessinsider.com/silicon-valley-ipod-nest-matt-rogers-mill-2025-11
