On Food, Farmers’ Markets and the Farm Bill

On Fridays this summer in Chicago I went to the Department of Human Services offices on 63rd Street to invite people to visit the farmers’ market. Unless I had more outreach to do in Woodlawn or South Shore, I didn’t ride my bike. The first time I rode over, I was encouraged by the security guard to bring it in and since I hated the time it took to lock up my bike and ostentatious display of bike-riding, I just started walking over from my office a couple blocks away. Timing was everything for this outreach: If you went at 9 when the office opened nobody was there, and any later than 11 and the same was true. The benefit of going at 10 meant it wasn’t too hot yet and I’d still manage to grab a donut and iced coffee at Robust Coffee Lounge on my way back.