salt of the station street pig & chicken*

Gentrification. Revitalization. Stabilization. All words that come to mind when you’re thinking about what to do, exactly, with declining urban neighborhoods. But at the core of ‘what to do’ with declining urban neighborhoods is a mindset that urban planners (myself included) are often guilty of – at the end of the day, we can’t ‘do’ anything with property we don’t own, at least not easily or without great cost (financial and otherwise) to the community. This is often why the best examples of neighborhood revitalization and stabilization are usually organic ones – perhaps steered by community development corporations, neighborhood plans, or local planning departments – but at their core driven forward by people on the ground willing to take risks, pour their money (and those of their investors) into a place, develop a business plan, make connections, and hope it sticks.

Here in Pittsburgh, I’ve had a soft spot in my heart for the East Liberty neighborhood for years. Once the third largest shopping district in Pennsylvania, this neighborhood has great history, fantastic architectural gems, a decades-long period of decline, and some fantastically awful centralized planning decisions. Due to hard work and boots on the ground (and decidedly NOT due to anything our backwards local government planning department has done or not done, since they’re only now writing a comprehensive plan for the city) by the neighborhood CDC and countless other stakeholders, this area is hopping once again. Bookended by big box retail in the large spaces surrounding the urban core, the smaller spaces have for the most part been slowly rehabbed and are a mix of established and relatively new businesses.

And here’s the sticky part – who’s the most important stakeholder in this process? The neighborhood resident who’s seen the decline and rebirth? The chamber of commerce, who doesn’t necessarily have the best track record with supporting the small businesses? The CDC, who’s busted its butt trying to get vacant buildings filled with a sustainable mix of tenants only to get flack because they’re the ‘wrong kind’? The mix is critical to success, but everyone is always critical of the mix.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately as I frequent businesses in East Liberty. So many are food-based (yes, I am finally talking about food) – two Ethiopian restaurants, a Jamaican place, the cupcake bakery, the pizza shops, the Parisian bistro, the hip local dive bar, the waffle-centered performance art space, the conflict kitchen, the barbeque place, the hot dog shop, the burger bar, the modern American restaurant. As I write this list off the top of my head, I’m struck by the fact that most of these places are relatively new. One of the pizza shops is a long-time business (though frought with its own issues); the rest have been operating a decade or less. And although most business owners are happy with any patrons, for the most part the clientele seems to be young, non-minority, hip, with disposable income. I think it’s safe to say that the immediate neighborhood residents would not fit that description. So East Liberty is back to being a destination – which, to be fair, is its historical role. And what’s the alternative – predatory businesses (there is a check cashing place in the area, I believe), or no businesses at all?

A conversation with a fellow local food blogger started this whole thought process (and that conversation devolved from a lovely brisket recommendation). What level of investment in a neighborhood is appropriate for someone to come in with? Does that level change if they’re from the neighborhood, the city, the region, or a complete outsider? What about if they bring with them a certain caché, a cult of personality, a track record for excellence in the culinary world? Local foodies know by now that I’m talking about Kevin Sousa and his East End restaurant trimvirate (two of which are in East Liberty, and one in the urban core of the neighborhood). His first restaurant, Salt of the Earth in nearby Garfield, earned major accolades from the broader culinary community (Food and Wine and the James Beard Foundation, among others) and has been lauded locally. Rehabbing the building was seen as a Good Thing too, turning a historic Harley Davidson dealership from the 1920s that most recently was a vacant home decor place into a hot spot on a stretch of Penn Avenue that sorely needed some eyes on the street at night.

He’s followed that up with two restaurants opening almost simultaneously: Station Street Hot Dog Shop, and Union Pig & Chicken, and the grumbling has grown along with his foodie empire. I just don’t get it. The hot dog shop had been vacant for over a year, and is carrying on the tradition of a hot dog shop in that general vicinity (with that name) since 1915. The barbeque place bore the brunt of the complaints, both because people are very opinionated about their barbeque expectations and because a white dude from McKees Rocks is cooking barbeque in the ‘hood (haven’t heard it in quite those terms, but that seems to be the general sentiment).

Food questions aside (though I admit to being an avid fan of Kevin’s cooking), I ask these naysayers these questions: what would you have put in their place? Both of those storefronts were vacant. Both places are continuing the traditions of their locations (a rib joint failed a few years ago in the spot where Union is now). While neither place is the cheapest place I can get a hot dog or some fried chicken, it’s not massively overpriced. When a quarter pounder at Mickey D’s now costs $3.84 for processed crap that’s only recently become pink-slime free, and I can get a hot dog with standard fixings, all made by hand and really good quality product for $4 plus tax, how is that pretentious? If $22 is too much to pay for a really good rack of ribs, why would you willingly pay $20.99 at Damon’s for a mediocre rack?

And if you don’t want a Local Boy Done Good to bring restaurants to your vacant storefronts, where should he go? He’s a successful businessman with a solid following who chose to try new things in a neighborhood that needed it, and said they wanted it (one of the  goals in the neighborhood plan is to become a dining destination, after all). He could have rested on his laurels and replicated his brand in the suburbs, and he didn’t. Why all the crap for someone who’s willing to take a chance? Isn’t *that* the American way?

Me, I’m happy to support a local businessman who serves food that I feel comfortable feeding to my kids in an area of the city that I love. Obviously, a lot of other people feel that way too. This debate isn’t unique to East Liberty, or Pittsburgh.  I lived in another city neighborhood a decade ago whose parochial blue hairs tried to run the Hispanic businesses off the main street – apparently they liked vacant storefronts more. But if you alienate the small business owner, who is supposedly the lifeblood of the American economy, sooner or later you’ll end up in a chain store (or vacant window) wasteland. That’s not what I’m interested in, at all.

*an odd title, I know, but it combines the names of the three Kevin Sousa restaurants: Salt of the Earth, Station Street Hot Dog Shop, and Union Pig & Chicken

so there’s this guy…

cute, about my age, spiky hair, fun accent, slightly wonky teeth, has this thing against flavored milk and pink slime… maybe you’ve heard of him. Jamie Oliver? Yeah, him.

Who’s got two thumbs and just had an article posted on his Food Revolution site? *this girl*

I’ll post the text here for those of you lazy enough to not click through to the site, but really, their graphics are much cooler than my simple ones around these parts (make sure you drool over the burger from Burgatory at the top of the page – even with my crappy photography skills and the burger smushed from a takeout box, it makes my mouth water). And I’m not usually one to crow, but this whole process has been surreal and I felt it necessary to put it here as an electronic way of pinching myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.

I do have to say that I wish they had featured some of the school lunch pictures I got from the Environmental Charter School – you’ll wish your kids could eat these lunches. Heck, *I* wish I could eat these lunches!

I’ve been invited to come check out their lunchtime craziness this month and see how the kids react to their food. I can’t wait!

—-

‘Pink Slime’: What’s Next for School Lunches [originally written for Jamie's Food Revolution]

Playing Catch-Up With ‘Pink Slime’

If you’ve been paying attention to food-related news in the past three weeks, you’ve likely heard about ‘Pink Slime’.

As the Food Revolution has noted previously, the term has been around since 2002. Also known as Lean Finely Textured Beef, the substance gained some attention in 2010 when Jamie staged a demonstration on the ABC series of the Food Revolution.

But since Bettina Siegel posted a Change.org petition on March 6th urging the USDA to stop using ‘Pink Slime’ in the National School Lunch program, the ‘Pink Slime’ controversy has become a heated national debate.

Siegel’s petition received over a quarter-million signatures in just three weeks. The USDA has acknowledged the pressure, issuing an announcement that it would give school districts the option to purchase beef with or without LFTB. Many large school districts, including those in New York City and Boston, have stopped purchasing beef containing LFTB, while those that don’t use ‘Pink Slime’, like the Houston ISD, are confirming that their beef is LFTB-free. Most recently, Beef Products, Inc. announced the suspension of operations at three of the four plants where LFTB is produced.

Tensions on this topic are running high – while ‘Pink Slime’ opponents are pleased with the initial inroads made with the USDA, they’re not content with this first victory and are actively lobbying members of Congress to keep such additives out of the meat supply. In contrast, the meat industry has gone on the defensive, starting their own site supporting LFTB, and taking out a full-page ad in the Wall Street Journal.

The takeaway from this controversy is clear: people didn’t know what their kids were eating. When they learned the truth, they wanted ‘Pink Slime’ taken out of their children’s meals – and out of their supermarkets as well. Americans haven’t suddenly turned vegetarian, leaving the beef industry in the lurch. But when given the opportunity to make informed choices, consumers will decide based on what’s in their best interest. In this case, once people were educated about the industrial food system, they chose to change their purchasing habits, and pushed for the government to do the same.

So Now What?

In addition to the USDA giving school districts that purchasing option, Congress is urging the USDA to take ‘Pink Slime’ out of the National School Lunch Program completely, and Rep. Chellie Pingree (D-ME) has introduced a bill, the Real Beef Act requiring that ‘‘Pink Slime’’ be labeled. Sen. Robert Menendez (D-NJ) is planning similar legislation in the Senate.

But how does this affect the school districts that actually feed our kids five days a week? Now that parents are paying closer attention to the food in local schools, how can they help districts continue to make changes for the better, especially when many districts and states are strapped for cash? And most importantly, how can parents be assured that the food that is fed to all children is nutritious, safe, and relatively free of additives?

Commentators think that the USDA ‘Pink Slime’/no-’Pink Slime’ choice will lead to a two-tiered ‘have’ and ‘have-not’ system of school lunches, where better-funded districts that can afford it decide on higher-quality food, while cash-strapped districts end up stuck with lower-priced ‘Pink Slime’-laced beef. But even if money were not an issue, extracting ‘‘Pink Slime’’ from the food supply available to school districts is difficult. The USDA doesn’t currently require that beef products containing ‘Pink Slime’ be labeled as such. Because of the lack of labeling requirements, and that many districts have already placed their food orders for the upcoming school year, the deck is stacked against a quick phase-out.

Don’t forget – districts also have to work within the USDA reimbursement guidelines if they don’t want to pay out-of-pocket for food service. And the new rules for school meals – championed by First Lady Michelle Obama and doubling the amounts of fruits and veg served to children – are estimated to add $3.2 billion in costs to the school lunch program. Pulling ‘Pink Slime’ from menus will also add to the cost of the program at the local level.

Dealing with high-volume food production in large school districts can also be problematic. Centralized food services are great for cutting costs, but not necessarily for getting high quality food onto the lunch plates of students. Smaller schools, like Pittsburgh’s Environmental Charter School, are showing that innovative things can be done in school lunch programs. However, moving from a school of 450 students that develops partnerships with local restaurants and catering businesses (and that also values food quality enough to operate its lunch program at a loss) to a district that serves tens of thousands of children with no budget flexibility requires even more creativity. Especially if schools no longer have fully equipped kitchens, switching to a decentralized model will take more time and money than many districts can afford.

Grass-roots Movements Can Spur Major Changes

As with most established bureaucracies, change will come slowly. But the last three weeks of ‘Slime-gate’ have shown that grass-roots movements can spur major changes. All children who eat school meals – regardless of where they live or how wealthy their parents are – deserve to eat healthy food that tastes good. So keep the heat on the USDA, tell your elected officials to support Rep. Pingree’s and Sen. Menendez’s initiatives, and urge them to support the Local Farm, Foods and Jobs Act as part of the Farm Bill reauthorization process.

Finally, get involved where you live. Call your local school district and ask about their food service. Attend a school board meeting. Advocate for a more transparent system for good food!

About the author: Rebecca Maclean (@foodmeonce) is a food policy blogger whose interests lie at the intersection of urban gardening, food security, and public health. She writes at foodmeonce.com and is the Editor-in-Chief of the Digging Deep Campaign. Rebecca wrangles a husband, two kids, and several raised beds in her spare time.