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I started in food recovery because of a nudge that I gave my son, Caleb, to “do something good for the world” on his 19th birthday. 

At the time, nearly eight years ago, we were in Orange, in the Trader Joe’s parking lot. Caleb knew friends who had dumpster-dived there, so he decided to call the store and inquire about their excess food. We met with the store manager three weeks later, and we started working in food recovery days after that.

I am a lifelong environmentalist. Living sustainably as a counter to our culture’s over-consumption has been a core value, especially as a parent. I was thrilled to embark on this work with him, not knowing where it would lead, but trusting that it would be of service.

We started with two weekly runs to Trader Joe’s. It slowly grew, and grew.

I wanted the food to address hunger in the six poorest neighborhoods of New Haven; we knew that it would help to offset the cost of living — $20 worth of food each week softens the blow of a flat tire, or a medication, or a month with a high electric bill. It makes a difference for individuals and families, while also making a difference for the environment.

We tried to find partners in each of the neighborhoods. We thought we’d be bringing the food to long-standing big sites that share food with folks in New Haven — but we kept hearing that food from the grocery store wasn’t a good fit due to timing, amount or type of food donation. 

There we were with carloads of beautiful produce, meat, fish, dairy products, breads and desserts, struggling to find places to share it. The sharing took a lot of effort on our part. 

We called friends who knew friends who needed food. It was a huge stressor to have good, fresh food and not be able to share it quickly. 

We reached out to the elderly services dept in New Haven. Could we bring food to some sites? (Yes!) We reached out to faith communities, including one day pulling into a church parking lot on Dixwell Ave with a sign that said “Kitchen is Open.” (They became a partner.) One of their members worked at a Head Start program, whose director said their families and staff could use food each week. 

It slowly, organically grew by word of mouth and tabling at Earth Day events and Rock to Rock. A city employee called me after seeing a local shop throwing sandwiches and pastry in the trash at closing. She told them about our work, and I called them the next day. We began to pick up food from that donor seven days a week. 

About a year after my son’s birthday and our first food pickup, I was in CLP. (I loved my CLP year; it has stayed with me. I’m grateful to still be in touch with others from Cohort 19.) 

The food recovery work we were doing was now under the umbrella of a large nonprofit; we were using their app for volunteers, and it just seemed like a logical collaboration. This technology allows us to make the work bite-size for volunteers. Apps allow us to schedule runs, so volunteers can claim and deliver food runs as it fits their schedules. It makes it easy for each of them to make a big difference.

All throughout my CLP year, I was in discernment over the connection — or disconnection really — with the umbrella organization. It was showing behaviors that stemmed from a place of entitlement and unrecognized white privilege. They clearly felt my pushback around their language and policies to be trying, and it became obvious that our values were not compatible. 

I had an honest conversation about it all with a trusted CLP alum and nonprofit advisor, who said: “Lori, you have to get out of there and start an organization that reflects your values.” I trusted her opinion because she has so much experience with nonprofit organizations — and because we share common values. She has a heart and concern for noticing patterns of oppression, naming them and trying to do better. 

Two weeks after the conversation with that advisor, three co-founders filed Articles of Incorporation with the State of Connecticut to begin an environmental non-profit. In solidarity and in community, our mission is to build community and reduce food waste, one food rescue at a time. 

We also aim to recategorize and recognize recovered food as a community resource and one piece of the solution to the waste crisis in Connecticut — especially for communities most impacted by environmental harms and risks. In these neighborhoods, multiple factors, including both environmental and socioeconomic stressors, may act cumulatively to affect and contribute to persistent disparities in human health and environmental health.

We recover food that is too good to waste – with a focus on perishable and prepared foods. Produce, dairy and meat are perishable foods that often go to waste because of their short shelf-life. We primarily get them from grocery stores and markets, and by the time we get them, they need to be delivered and eaten within 1-3 days (so we work fast!). Prepared food is a gift of nutrition, and also time. We primarily get this food from local universities; it is leftover from their regular dining schedules and events like graduations and reunions, plus “kitchen close-outs” before school break times. We also receive baked goods — bread and desserts — from local bakeries and other producers.

There is a lot of food that can be recovered. In seven and a half years now, we have created an incredible network: food donors (100+), food receiving sites (200+) and amazing volunteers (400+ — including all three of my children!). Because of this network, for each of the last 3 years, we recovered and distributed more than 1.5 million pounds of food – three times more than the largest food pantry in New Haven distributed in a year. 

(I share that as a proud co-founder for all we are doing together, not in competition — there is more than enough work for all of us.)

Generally speaking, the difference between a food bank and a food recovery or rescue organization is that food banks want to address food insecurity, and food rescue organizations, working hyper-locally, want to keep good food from going to a landfill or an incinerator. We are always looking for good food that is going to waste — we want the deli food, yogurt, milk, bread and so on, with today’s expiration date. It is still good and healthy to eat.

Food donation is unpredictable; the timing, type and amount of a donation determines the best recipient partner. Recovered food is often not a good fit for food pantries and soup kitchens. Some donations are received in the evening — which eliminates partners that are open only regular work hours. Some pantries do not have the capacity to share perishable food. For a weekly soup kitchen, receiving perishable food one day later is not a good fit because it would be spoiled by their next gathering.

We deliver food from donors directly to people where they live, where they work or where they just are: in homes (or into coolers on front porches), schools, daycare centers, senior centers, elder or family subsidized housing locations, health clinics, methadone clinics, faith communities, mutual aid sites, one library, and some other small nonprofits.

We have heard many stories of food insecurity, learning that we can never assume to know who around us needs nutritious food. I have come to believe anyone earning an hourly wage is a person who needs food — especially in these economic times. We don’t gate-keep any food — no one must show us their “poor card” or be a member. They just must be near the food and want it.

Many of us know this first-hand, including me. Ten weeks after launching the new, independent nonprofit in 2019, a house fire displaced me and my children; we lost our house and all our possessions. The pandemic began while we were displaced; it took 21 months to get back into the rebuilt house, in January 2021.

Most food producers do not want to waste food. But there are a surprising number of obstacles to getting it to people who need it. These barriers may include a lack of community connections, no way to transport the food, or lacking a flexible system that can respond to different kinds and amounts of food availability in different moments. 

Also, given the litigious nature of our society, there are liability concerns among potential food owners/producers, who sometimes err on the side of caution and the food goes to waste. What they don’t know (yet) is that the Bill Emerson Good Samaritan Food Donation Act has been in place since 1996, providing liability protection for food that is donated in good faith to a non-profit organization to feed the “needy.” In 2022 it was updated through The Food Donation Improvement Act — the liability protection now also includes food given directly to individuals. It also allows donated food to be sold at a good samaritan cost to help cover the handling costs of an operation.

As it turns out, our method of sharing food pushes some buttons; especially within the traditional ‘food charity’ model. Our lens and question is simple: “Where is good food going to waste, and how can we get it to people who need it?” Often the traditional model is the other way around, for all of the typical system reasons — state and federal regulations, grant requirements, and so on: “These are the people who qualify by these metrics, where can we find food to give to them?”

I am in the work to share. I am not in it as ‘charity.’ I do not want to show up in the world as any kind of ‘white savior’ colonizer. I’m not perfect; I try to minimize and ameliorate any harm that I may do. And it is wearying to be trying to work within an entrenched system that may be working as it was designed to, but not as it could.

I move forward — weary, but no less passionate. We’re working on a plan to buy a building and create a long-term, stable place and food recovery hub in Fair Haven that would also be a community hub for other nonprofits that work in Fair Haven. Sharing food and sharing space and being in community.

Learn more about Lori at Haven’s Harvest website

To reach Lori directly: lori@havensharvest.org



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