Day 11 - Maryland - Moveable Feast

Can we talk about food?

Tim and I eat a lot. Not like “quantity” a lot, but in frequency and diversity. Well, I guess in quantity too. Anyway, what kind of road trip would this be with out extensive amounts of eating?

Originally, Tim and I were planning to add a food component to our trip: 50 states, 50 days, 50 organizations, and 50 state specialties. This was going to be for us, our indulgence during our travels. Yes, you would have to hear about it, but we would directly benefit from the tastiness. On our first night, in Vermont, all we could find was Cabot cheddar. So we ate Cabot cheddar, on a hard baguette that we squashed while slicing with a butter knife, in our studio hotel room at Killington.

Then we got back to NH, excited to keep on going with our food travels…and we were stumped. What the heck is the state food of NH*? NH isn’t know for cheese, not pizza, not sandwiches, not bar-b-que. What could we reasonably call the state food of NH? So, tears in our eyes, we abandon our grand plan to eat our way thematically across America. Too bad, we said, maybe next time.

We should not have worried. It was pointless to fret, because, before we knew it, we were eating our way through each state. In NY, I made Tim drive about an hour out of our way to get slices of pizza at Di Fara, the famed and acclaimed pizza shop in Brooklyn. I don’t think I can do the slice justice with my mere words, so I will give you a pizza picture. Please feel free to imagine taking a bite.

It just exudes NY.

In New Jersey, we had bagels and schmear. We were close to New York – they were amazing. Actual bagels. I am from California, where bagels resemble dinner rolls with holes. These were chewy and doughy with a crisp and taught crust. In Pennsylvania, we had water ice (pronounced “wodda ice”) from a little store around the corner from my old apartment. After spending years building up the flavor in my mind, my anticipation may have ruined it a bit. Remembering the ice as brightly colored and delicious, I was disappointed. That is until I realized that in my haste, I had ordered sugar-free. I ate it in a sully silence, regretting my distraction.

Then, we arrived in Baltimore, and were treated to the most excellent crab cakes in the world. I know that them be fighting words, but I am willing to call in all the muscle I know to back me up.

The size of 2 hockey pucks smooshed together, these crab cakes were heaven in a lightly pan fried shell. If I had know Chris and Jeff better, I would have asked if they minded if we all took a picture around the crab cakes. But, using every ounce of self-control, I refrained from embarrassing Tim, and I have regretted it ever since.

Since crossing the boarder into VA, Tim and I have had a variety of traditional southern specialties: sausage gravy, biscuits, monkey bread, grits, fried chicken (I originally wrote “friend chicken”, my Freudian slip of the day), more biscuits, peanut butter pie (twice), and sweet tea.

Oh my lord, I love southern food.

But, oh my lord, we need to go for a run.

But there I go again, getting ahead of myself. Back to Baltimore (where we went for our last run, side by side on tread mills in the YMCA).

I felt it was appropriate to begin our discussion of food in Baltimore, given the crab cakes from Koko’s. You absolutely needed to hear about those. But also because our volunteering to this point has been (and will continue to be) extremely food oriented. Six out of eleven organizations. Four food banks and two meal delivery services. In total, at least 13 of our 50 organizations will deal with food: food banks, soup kitchens, community meals, and meal delivery.

So after we were through with crab cakes, running, a fierce game of Scrabble Apple (during which Tim was left in the dust, but I was absolutely slaughtered), and our lumberjack-half-an-egg-each-breakfast, we visited Moveable Feast.

Founded in 1989 by a group of dedicated volunteers, Moveable Feast is the only meal delivery program for homebound People Living with AIDS in the Greater Baltimore area. Moveable Feast even provides meals to dependent children and others residing with homebound People Living with AIDS. Last year, the organization expanded their meal program to include women undergoing treatment for breast cancer and their families.

Like Citymeals in NY, Moveable Feast was established to feed people, to nourish them physically. But, like Citymeals it also nourishes people emotionally, by providing support and companionship. One long time employee (with whom we later shared a delightful meal at one of Baltimore’s most long standing German institutions, Eichenkranz) shared with us stories of the organization. He said that, especially in the early days, when people living with AIDS were kept on the periphery of society, you not only gave someone their meals, but you made sure to hug them, to touch them before you left. He said this became a priority while making deliveries, because you were never sure of the last time that person had received a hug or had contact with another person. You were never sure of the last time someone was willing to touch that person.

Sit back for a moment, and imagine being sick, being weak, and having people be afraid to be around you, to touch you. When you have been ostracized and shunned, something so minimal as a hug can have enormous healing power. And that is the foundation on which Moveable Feast is built - feeding the person both physically, with food, and emotionally, with support.

Working in the dipping room, named for the fact you dip the spoons into the serving vessels (I love aptly named things), we lined up trays and deposited food neatly into portioned serving areas. Bar-b-qued chicken with mac n cheese and greens. Meat loaf and gravy, potatoes, peas and carrots. In a few meals, we switched out the potatoes for pasta salad. Each meal was specifically tailored to meet the client’s nutritional need. And all of them looked really, really good. As the final step, meals were run through the packaging machine and layered like Tetris pieces on pallets, ready for delivery.

I spent sometime picking chicken meat from bones with the young gentleman who had cooked them the previous day. He was native to Baltimore, a volunteer who was there not of his own accord. We got to talking about The Civic Projects, about Baltimore, about seeing the country. For a while, after he heard our schedule and that we weren’t doing this to get our own reality TV show (how novel, people doing something without the explicit desire to be on TV), he evaluated me out of the corner of his eye, never turning his head to look me full in the face. He kept repeating that I was insane. But as conversation moved away from the familiar and concrete to the endless possibilities of just getting in the car and traveling, really exploring our country, he looked me straight in the face and said, “Man, you crazy. Really crazy. But I get you. I totally get you.” And that is the best affirmation I have received yet.

*According to my sources, which could very well be wrong (they have been in the past but I trust ‘em anyway), the state food of NH is Corn Chowder. Go figure.

P.O. Box 2298 ( 901 N. Milton Ave. 21205 )
Baltimore, MD 21203 USA

Toll Free: 800.556.9417
Phone: 410.327.3420
Fax: 410.327.3426