House Arrest

This summer I've been working with a teenager on house arrest, signing her in and out at the end of the day and mailing her paychecks to the Department of Corrections. She's a good kid who did a bad thing and she's ready and willing to take responsibility and accept the consequences, but she's also working to manage the situation so it doesn't squelch her dreams and aspirations. Having a job is an important piece of the puzzle because it shows the powers that be that she's making productive use of her time.

This isn't the first time I've worked with an employee with legal troubles. One of my key people was paying for his youthful indiscretions when I hired him 3 years ago, suffering through regular court dates and completing community service hours. With both of these people, I've felt that farmers' markets are a great setting for a new beginning. The work can be hard, but it's a life-affirming environment with tangible benefits other than the paycheck: we're surrounded by fabulous food and we learn more about it every day.

Planet Home

This past Saturday I set up my grills at an event called "Planet Home," put on by Northeast Seattle Neighbors' Sustainability Network. It was a sweet festival at the Hunter Tree Farm, with the space divided into areas representing the different rooms of a house.

When the organizers first contacted me about vending there, my first reaction was that it didn't sound like the kind of event where I could make any money. The health department fee structure makes it nearly impossible for a business like mine to make a profit at an event like this: we're supposed to pay a $255 permit fee to set up even if it's just for one day, even if it's a tiny event. Some vendors don't bother with the permits and they generally don't get caught, but that's not my style.

My second thought when I considered vending here was that there are many reasons to choose an event, and money is just one of them. I knew I probably wouldn't lose money because it would have to be a lethally slow day to not make back the cost of the permit, and I had 4 markets the next day so I'd be able to use any unsold product. All I was really risking was my time.

I ended up doing just a little better than breaking even, and I was glad I was there. One interesting feature of this event (from a business point of view) was that nearly everyone paid with small bills. I always pay attention to the bill denominations because they give information about spending patterns. When lots of people pay with large bills early in the day, it usually means it's going to be a good day. In low income neighborhoods people tend to pay with large bills early in the month and smaller bills as the month wears on. At well advertised special events there are so many people paying with big bills that it's nearly impossible to bring enough change. This was probably the only one-day event I've ever done where I ended the day with more change than when I started. It wasn't about money.

I realized, though, that this kind of sustainability-based event fits my values so much better than a big budget event like the Green Festival. Real sustainability isn't commercial. It isn't flashy or glitzy. It's neighborhood-based. It's reused, homemade, and it's proud of its handwritten signs.

Searching for Sour Cream on the South End

My crew loves sour cream. We keep a big tub of it at the kitchen and we use it to fill a smaller tub to bring to the markets to eat with our own tamales and quesadillas. But yesterday we were out of sour cream at the kitchen so we couldn't bring any to Columbia City.

The first two hours of Columbia City tend to be slow and I usually bring a book and sit in the park and read, waiting for the dinner rush. Yesterday I told the crew I'd go find them some sour cream. It's the kind of errand I enjoy: exploring a neighborhood on foot with an atypical agenda as a way to see a place in a new way. I also like doing little things for my staff that can make a big difference to their morale.

I knew there was a Safeway about 8 blocks north of the market, but I figured I'd be able to find closer sour cream at one of the many convenience stores just south of the market. First I visited the Shola Ethiopian grocery on S. Edmunds. It's the closest food store to the market and I've gone in there over the years when I've forgotten to bring cooking oil. They had fresh injera bread (the spongy stuff that you use to scoop up those tasty Ethiopian dishes.) They had raw coffee beans, whole cinnamon sticks and cardamom pods, and even ghee in their refrigerated section. But no sour cream.

Next I visited the Busy Bee grocery, which had mainly processed convenience foods. I also found another 3 or 4 Halal groceries rich with traditional Middle Eastern, Indian and North African products, but I did not find sour cream.

After walking 6 blocks, I turned back empty handed. I finally did find some sour cream ("crema") at a Mexican grocery that I had passed over on my way south because it looked like it just had mercantile products.

I thought about the term "food desert", often used to describe inner city areas whose main sources of food are overpriced convenience stores that carry very few healthy options. These stores had virtually no fresh vegetables (and no sour cream). But they did carry plenty of grains and legumes, which are relatively healthy, affordable, unprocessed foods that tend to get short shrift in discussions of food security such as Joel Berg's All You Can Eat, and Mark Winne's Closing the Food Gap.

It would have been nice to see some fresh vegetables (and some sour cream.) But I walked away from the experience feeling, again, like nothing is as simple as it seems.

Columbia City's New Location

This month the Columbia City Market moved from the parking lot where it's been held for the past 12 years onto the street adjacent to that lot.

The move has been a long time coming. Market administrators have known for years that the lot was slated for construction, and have had their eyes open for a new location. Fortunately, the city dramatically dropped fees for street closures last year.

It's tricky to move a farmers' market. Most of the moves I've experienced have been well thought out and successful, but there are always risks to breaking routines that take time to establish. Columbia City, in particular, always felt like it would be a problematic move. The two or three blocks right near the market have a lot of vitality, but if you go three blocks north or three blocks south, the area has a different feel.

By moving just half a block, the Columbia City market has been able to easily redirect customers: even if they're headed for the old parking lot, they can't possibly miss the market. Some complain about the parking situation because they've lost all the street parking, but I think it's a small price to pay.

I love seeing city streets closed for farmers' markets. The events project a confidence that they don't have when they're tucked away in parking lots. It's as if they're puffing out their chests and saying, "This matters enough to reroute traffic."

Overstaffed

A farmer friend of mine said, "My place looks great. That worries me. It means I'm overstaffed."

Foodies: The Book

1. Okay, it's definitely not a conventional page turner, but I was fascinated by this rather academic analysis of sociological trends at play in today's world of food aficionados.

The book's subtitle is "Democracy and Distinction in the Gourmet Foodscape", and it describes the tension between our egalitarian inclination to enjoy all types of foods, from burgers to truffles, and our relentless pursuit of authentic and exotic foods. These two tendencies play off of each other in complex and perplexing ways, like relentless pursuit of high quality simple staples and appreciation for cheap street food that you can only experience with an expensive plane ticket.

Johnston and Baumann also point out contradictions and blind spots such as the emphasis on eco friendly foods but overall lack of awareness regarding social justice issues in the food industry, and the shared conviction that we can purchase our way towards a more just and sustainable foodscape.

I would have liked to see more discussion of one of my pet topics--attitudes towards meat consumption--which happens to provide fertile illustrations of many of the book's main ideas. Sustainable meat has been eagerly embraced by the foodie community, with good reason. But there's been very little reflection over the fact that its price is too high for most people to enjoy it regularly and even if it could become a mainstream staple, it still wouldn't be sustainable for everyone to eat a lot of it every day.

I doubt that a book like this will do much to raise awareness within foodie communities about these issues. Still, I'm glad someone is thinking about them.

Renegade Vendor

1. 
   There's been a renegade food vendor selling pink lemonade and corn on the cob in the park right across from the Columbia City Market the past two weeks. Apparently they applied to the market and were turned down, but they decided they were going to come anyway.

After their appearance the first week a few of us called the health department only to find out that the health code makes a special dispensation for corn on the cob, so they don't need oversight by an organization like the farmers' market, as required for other food vendors. The health inspector suggested that we call the parks department, but apparently they're covered there too, with a permit that allows them to set up in public parks.

Yesterday the market folks had Billy's Farm move their big, colorful box truck to a spot that blocked the line of sight from the market to the corn vendor. In response, the corn vendor called parking enforcement, so the market folks had to move the truck.

I don't want them there, but I've been wondering why they have less of a right to be there than the ice cream truck or the guy selling African baskets.