People’s Kitchen Harvest Dinner
Reinhard Street Community Farm
6171 Reinhard St.
Philadelphia
Oct. 4, 2024
Fernando Melo picked the petals off a sunflower head and held its face flesh against the grill. Was I at a cookout, I wondered, or had NOMA come to Philly?
The People’s Kitchen, a grassroots collaborative combating food insecurity by making free meals for all, hosted their own kind of cookout Friday night at their Community Farm on Reinhard street. And let me tell you — it wasn’t just hot dogs and hamburgers.
There was shrimp, grilled chicken and salmon, homemade pound cakes, masa cookies, samples of Burmese and Malaysian cuisine.
The People’s Kitchen is a crew of volunteers that got together during the Covid-19 pandemic to make hot meals to anyone and everyone at no cost. Friday’s dinner, while free, also sought to gather funds via donation to increase the amount of produce the nonprofit generates across its farmland, including at Reinhard.
The mutual aid group is run primarily by refugees and undocumented immigrants making food to distribute back into their communities and across Philly at large. That was on display during Friday’s dinner, where people from all walks of life joined the party, preparing their own contribution to the potluck with evident pride.
A community of Karen refugees from Burma huddled together, slowly garnishing their food trays before distributing the goods onto everyone’s dishes. A Black auntie with beautiful hair spoke loudly about how the sweet potato pie used root veggies straight from the garden. The tíos and tías grilled as if their hearts depended on it, putting on an almost theatrical performance. University of Pennsylvania students helped in any way they could.
“Gourmet” is a total understatement for what I was eating and experiencing. These folks were more hospitable than my own family; I even enjoyed an appetizer at this free-to-the-public dinner (sorry, Auntie Kelly!) and I’m not talking potato chips.
I started my meal off with a sunflower head (which is fully edible, by the way) that had been slowly roasted accompanied by some grits. Because of the high density of water that the sunflower head had, the whole head had a tender, sous vide-feel.The water never left the sunflower but instead made it so tender that you could pull it like a juicy chicken breast.
Post appetizer, I downed four full plates of food.
Even the chicken — a more standard cookout component — was next level: The chefs marinated the meat for at least five hours to build a harmony of flavors that could be felt the minute it reached our mouths. It was a holy matrimony of taste.
I begged the cook, Fernando Melo, to tell us how he did it. Papi replied, speaking English as clearly as he could: “I can’t tell you — it’s my secret sauce.” I pressed a little more. I knew there was limón in there! His facial expression immediately changed from that of a serious tío grilling for his family to a chico caught redhanded in mischief. The more we spoke the less confident I felt about what was actually in the dressing. But then again, is it really a good sauce without the secret?
Once the sun set, we watched a short film showcasing the project of People’s Kitchen and the individuals behind it. It was an additional level of nourishment to see stories of how migrants from Mexico City have found maintained ancestral practices of connecting to the land through farming at Reinhard and to hear neighbors express gratitude for those tending the garden.
I left feeling full in body and soul — it was like I had just stepped out of a short story from one of the Chicken Soup books.
A comrade who attended said this to me: “The best restaurant in Philadelphia is in the middle of the street in a little neighborhood full of row houses and vacant lots, jammed between Mount Moriah Cemetery and the railroad tracks.”
I have to say I agree. It’s not only that the mission is solid. It’s that the food is exceptional.
It makes sense that homegrown food, cross-cultural collaboration, and chefs with a sense of story and care are a perfect recipe for delicious food. But even while trying new foods I had never had before — like the sunflower — I was reminded of what’s lost when we separate food from its roots, as well as what’s gained through reconnection.
At the end of the day, it was the cookout that I cared about just as much as what was on my plate; good food tastes a lot better when you have people to share it with.
