猫咪社区

The irony hit Katherine Kehrli, the associate dean of Seattle Culinary Academy, when one of the COVID-19 pandemic鈥檚 successive waves of closures flattened restaurants: Many of her culinary students were themselves food insecure. She saw cooks, bakers, and chefs-in-training lose the often-multiple jobs that they needed simply to eat. 

鈥淭he pandemic has leveled the most marginalized members of our society鈥攖he people working two, three jobs at minimum wage,鈥� Kehrli says. She knows the statistics by heart: FeedingAmerica.org says . 鈥淚ts tendrils,鈥� she adds, 鈥渁re nasty.鈥�

Kehrli knew she wouldn鈥檛 be able to make the entire U.S. food system more equitable and just, but she did have an idea to help her local community. Six years before, after spending time in the culinary school鈥檚 bake shop, she鈥檇 gotten hooked on the alchemy of flour, water, yeast, and salt. She took workshops with master bakers and built a library of cookbooks on bread. Kehrli even started a regional network of people who shared her hobby: Northwest Bread Bakers. She loved to bake, and during the pandemic, other homebound Americans were beginning to feed sourdough starters by the millions. Kehrli wondered: Could a trending private hobby help meet wider needs?

A little policy research showed that, in Washington, bread was one of the few homemade foods the state health department allowed to be donated to food banks without needing to be made in a licensed commercial kitchen. And so in April, from Kehrli鈥檚 home鈥攚here giant bags of flour eventually displaced the family car from the garage鈥� was born. She called on a hive of baking friends to develop a sandwich-friendly, easy-to-execute sourdough recipe, the 鈥渉oney oat pan loaf.鈥� The group found a food bank in the Seattle suburb of Kirkland called that agreed to take the bread if they could make and package it in a standardized way. That first batch, the initiative donated 19 loaves.

Ten months later, the numbers have mushroomed. Nearly 700 volunteer bakers, drivers, and flour packers have contributed to the donation of nearly 15,000 loaves to 11 food pantries around Seattle. Two Sundays a month, the individual bakers each make four loaves (three to donate, one to keep) that get distributed among 36 neighborhood hubs. Community Loaves is on track to give away more than 30,000 loaves before the end of 2021. 

The initiative has already expanded to three locations in Oregon, and Kehrli expects to inspire other cities. She鈥檚 already gotten calls from bakers in Connecticut, California, and Minnesota wondering how they can replicate the idea.

The proud but visibly fatigued founder is braced for more in early January when she beams in for a virtual interview. Kehrli had been up until 3:44 a.m. the night before, she reports wearily, then up again at 7 and back in action with no shower or makeup. 鈥淚 can鈥檛 sleep anymore,鈥� she says.鈥淚 have stuff to do.鈥�&苍产蝉辫;

One of her two college-age sons slips in a veggie bowl for her to snack on, because she hasn鈥檛 had time for lunch. Things will only intensify from here. The Today show is scheduled to air a in two days, and the project鈥檚 new website needs to be ready. In the middle of it all, someone shows up at the door needing labels, which had been delayed in shipping. Kehrli鈥檚 supportive, operationally involved husband, Tim, makes a quick decision: 鈥淚鈥檓 going to give her bags and twist ties,鈥� he declares, 鈥渂ecause that鈥檚 all I have.鈥�&苍产蝉辫;

The work continues, because demand isn鈥檛 letting up.

Inspiration and Limitations

During the pandemic, mutual-aid societies have cropped up around the country, reviving an old concept with roots in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The idea was that everyone had something to contribute, and everyone had something they needed. By 1920, a presidential report estimated that one in three adult men in the U.S. was a member of a fraternal society. During the 1918 flu pandemic, . New Orleans, in particular, developed a strong mutual-aid tradition, with an estimated 135 organizations dedicated to supporting Black people, nearly one-third of them for women. 

For today鈥檚 mutual-aid societies, the catch line is often 鈥渟olidarity, not charity.鈥�&苍产蝉辫;

Community Loaves, too, draws on the model of neighbors helping neighbors. And Kehrli took inspiration from an earlier time as well. Her grandmother, Ruth Wiesen, was known for making cookies, pies, or fudge for every bake-sale fundraiser, neighborhood social, funeral luncheon, or other community need. And she participated in the interfaith CROP Walks against hunger for as long as she physically could. When Kehrli told Wiesen about Community Loaves, her grandmother said, 鈥淚 would鈥檝e loved to have [baked for] that.鈥� Wiesen died in 2020, at 105鈥攂ut not before helping Kehrli put labels on Community Loaves bread bags, marshaling her frail 85-pound body and still-powerful will to help even from her nursing home.

Sourdough donation isn鈥檛 widespread yet, but related efforts are out there. Kehrli drew on one Midwestern model, , that uses commercial bakeries. And celebrated artisanal baker Guy Frenkel has started a similar initiative in L.A., , that has inspired chapters in Baltimore and Israel. Kehrli gets calls from around the country鈥攕he logs them on a 鈥淣ew Cities Interest鈥� spreadsheet鈥攁nd she鈥檚 expecting more. By April, she hopes to have expansion support in place, including a training session for others wanting to start something similar.

Still, Kehrli is dissatisfied with a food system that leaves people hungry鈥攁nd is ever-conscious of her project鈥檚 limitations. 鈥淚t is just one piece of work on a scale that is extremely large in terms of what鈥檚 needed,鈥� she says. 鈥淵es, we鈥檙e doing our part, and yes, I want us to feel good about it, and yes, it鈥檚 still not enough.鈥�

Still, recipients who learn that volunteers are doing the baking appreciate the effort. Teresa, a Hopelink client in the Kirkland area who preferred that her last name not be used, says she was touched when she found out that fellow community members made the loaves. 鈥淭his to me is the representation of community, people stepping in and learning and sharing love by trying to help the community,鈥� she says. 鈥淏aking is a special genre. There鈥檚 no guarantees. But when the loaves are perfect, they鈥檙e amazing.鈥�

Added Benefits

Despite its limited scale, Community Loaves has a range of impacts, even beyond addressing hunger. One of them: expanding the market for locally grown, locally milled grains. The initiative uses high-extraction and whole grain flour. It鈥檚 bought wholesale from two regional mills, Cairnspring Mills and Fairhaven Organic Flour Mill, and then purchased in smaller units by bakers as part of their contribution. 鈥淔lour has been relegated to the commodity market for a long time. Just like coffee and craft beer have gone through their days, flour is having its moment,鈥� Kehrli says. 鈥淲e are helping to educate and share that not all flour is the same. I think we are helping support an improved foundation for choosing local ingredients that have been minimally processed.鈥�

The high-extraction flour has higher nutritional content, Kehrli asserts, including fiber and protein. People with celiac disease and gluten intolerance still can鈥檛 eat bread鈥攂ut anecdotally, many with gluten sensitivity have reported the Community Loaves iteration doesn鈥檛 disagree with them. 鈥淲e attribute that to the longer sourdough fermentation process and the quality of the flour,鈥� she says.

Then there鈥檚 the effect on bakers, who not only give to others, but also benefit from connecting and contributing, safely and from home, during a pandemic. They come from a range of ages and backgrounds. Kinsley Ogunmola, for instance, a millennial software engineer, leads a hub in Seattle鈥檚 Queen Anne neighborhood. Up to 20 volunteers, ranging from 20-somethings to retirement age, drop off their loaves with him biweekly (he wrote a special code to let them into the building). From there, he coordinates transportation to the food pantry. 鈥淥ur lobby smells like a bakery every other Sunday,鈥� he says. 鈥淢y neighbor keeps asking me about bread now whenever I see him. I hope it spreads.鈥�

Community Loaves starts volunteers off with an online introductory session, which Kehrli leads. She鈥檚 done more than 50 to date. At one orientation, in September, the range of the bakers鈥� experience was apparent. There was Diane Moore, who had celebrated her 50th birthday with a weeklong baking course in France. And there was Clare Chan, who had zero baking experience but wanted to volunteer along with her teenage sons Caelen Yoong, 16, and Lucien Yoong, 14.

By January, Moore and Chan were both still involved and loving it. Chan reported that her family hadn鈥檛 missed a single bread-donation Sunday since they started. In her native Singapore, she used to volunteer in senior homes, but she loves that the whole family can be involved in this service, and she hopes they鈥檒l keep it up even after the pandemic. 鈥淚t鈥檚 a humbling and rewarding experience for us to put in the time to make the bread and know that it鈥檚 going to families in need,鈥� she says. 鈥淲hen you take the loaves out of the oven, that鈥檚 the best part.鈥�

Moore had thought she might get bored making a sandwich loaf over and over, but found that consistency is its own challenge. 鈥淚t turns out it鈥檚 hard to perfect the pan loaf. It鈥檚 not as forgiving in some ways as an artisan loaf. I feel like each time I鈥檓 learning more,鈥� she says. 鈥淭his project nourishes me. It鈥檚 been a gift. I was just ready to hand off bread, but there鈥檚 a lovely connection to a community of bakers who share resources and recipes. It鈥檚 a joyful project, and rewarding.鈥�

CORRECTION: This article was edited at 8:41a.m. PST on Feb. 26, 2021, to correct a misspelling of Katherine Kehrli’s name and to include Ed Nugent in a photo caption. Read our corrections policy here.