Feeding The Frontline With The Fat Shallot

At the end of March, just as we were getting settled into our “shelter-in-place” in the great state of Illinois, I was invited to a Facebook group called, “GiveInKind Meals for Chicago Area COVID-19 Healthcare Workers.”  My first reaction was, “Give?  I have nothing to give.  I’m not making a dime right now.”  But I liked what they were doing so I accepted the invitation to join and watched the action unfold.  There is this website called Give In-Kind, where people going through hard times can let their friends and family know what they need.  They can create food trains or wish lists, post visiting hours, and donation links. You can even hook it up to an Amazon Wish List or a Paypal account.  A group of friends in the North Shore suburbs of Chicago put their own site together to funnel food deliveries to the local hospitals and front line workers.  Their goal, to do what they can to help the healthcare workers get through these grueling days while the rest of us sat on couches and watched Netflix, and help to keep the restaurant industry afloat.

People interested in donating food can check the website to see who needs it and all the requirements for food deliveries.  Then they can hook up with any of their favorite restaurants and schedule a food donation to the location of their choice.  Now, this is open to any restaurants still operating take out business, but anyone who has spent time on this Facebook Page knows that The Fat Shallot is clearly one of the favorite choices for Chicago and the North Shore Suburbs. After all, one of their owners, Sarah Weitz, is from Highland Park.  Not to mention that their sandwiches are legendary, from their food truck beginnings to Revival Hall in the loop and their newest location right around Clark and Fullerton, it seems the demand for these gourmet sandwiches never stops.

Since Revival Food Hall is huge and completely empty, that’s where a large bulk of the donation deliveries are prepared.  The staff arrives around 5am to get the food prepped for around 500 meals before the assembly line starts around 6:30am.  By 10:30am the sandwiches and salads are done and the van is loaded, ready to spread lunch joy to healthcare workers and first responders alike.  Each delivery is accompanied by a letter saying where the food is from and who made the donation for the food.  Then Sarah and her team post it all on social media on the same day, so her donors can see exactly where their money is going and get a public thank-you, something we all want especially during this tough time.

I reached out to Sarah when I saw all the great work they were doing, I wanted to help out in my own way and was willing to accept payment in the form of dinner, and maybe lunch too, it was a long day.  After capturing her crew in action I followed along on the deliveries and these hungry workers were tapping their toes waiting for their goodies.  I do believe there was a phone call or two wondering if their station was our next stop. Food donations have become so popular that Sarah and her husband Sam, who co-own this gourmet deliciousness started a second avenue for people to donate food, a Go Fund Me link that you can find directly on their website.  It’s about $10 a meal and expands their donation network to all first responders, including fire stations and police stations. You should see how happy these firemen are when she pulls up.

My first full day of work since March 6, a full two months of sitting in front of my computer, I definitely needed to blow the dust off my own shoulders.  However, this isn’t the same world as it was two months ago. I needed to be prepared. With the mask I had, I brought a few coffee filters and taped one to the inside of the mask.  When that one got wet, I threw it out and taped in a new one.  I had multiple pairs of gloves to wear in each Fat Shallot location. My car and my bag were stuffed with hand sanitizer. I even grabbed a blanket to throw down in each restaurant that I could lay my gear on top of to avoid gathering germs. An extra pair of clothes was waiting for me in the garage when I got home.

It was the first time I had felt anything close to normal in months. Driving my car, listening to the radio, hauling my gear, being in the city and soaking up the sunshine. A day of photography like this is normally about $1750-$2000, or at least it was pre-COVID.  Now I’m just trying to give back in my own way, give myself the gift of feeling useful and relevant, and if I get some delicious turkey sandwiches to go with it, well, that’s good enough for me…for now.