At its heart, volunteer work is about giving love and affirming someone’s worth.
By Scott Kerman, Executive Director
I recently discovered the remarkable M.F.K. Fisher, often described as one of the greatest food writers of the 20th century. But to simply call her a “food writer” feels inadequate—something the New York Times captured beautifully in 1991:
“Calling M.F.K. Fisher… a food writer is a lot like calling Mozart a tunesmith.”
What drew me in was one of her most iconic reflections on food writing:
“It seems to me that our three basic needs, for food and security and love, are so mixed and mingled and entwined that we cannot think straightly of one without the others. So it happens that when I write about hunger, I am really writing about love and the hunger for it, and warmth and the love of it and the hunger for it … and then the warmth and richness and fine reality of hunger satisfied … and it is all one.”
Fisher’s insight resonates deeply with what we do at Blanchet House. Her understanding of food as more than sustenance—as love, as security, as connection—captures the heart of our mission.
A volunteer serves a meal to guests in Blanchet House’s free cafe in downtown Portland, Oregon.
Every meal at Blanchet is served with intention. Volunteers greet guests at the host stand and escort them to a table. A hot plate of food is placed before them with a kind word. Volunteers pour drinks with care. Tables are cleaned and reset with respect for the next person who will sit there. It’s not just a meal—it’s a moment of dignity.
I often say that people fall in love with volunteering at Blanchet House because serving a meal to someone in need is an incredibly intimate act. Little did I know I was echoing Fisher herself, who once wrote:
“Sharing food with another human being is an intimate act that should not be indulged in lightly.”
We take that sentiment to heart. At Blanchet, we do not serve lightly. We serve with mindfulness and reverence, knowing that our guests often arrive carrying the weight of trauma, hardship, and profound loneliness. That understanding guides our approach—we serve with dignity, because every guest possesses it innately.
Cookbook author and food critic Mary Frances Kennedy Fisher is shown in her office at her new home in Sonoma, Calif., April 28, 1971. (Credit: AP Photo/Richard Drew)
And like Fisher, we believe that food can carry with it more than calories. It can carry love. It can carry security. These are things our guests long for as deeply as they long for a hot meal. They come not only to satisfy hunger, but to feel seen, welcomed, and safe.
Blanchet House is, above all, a house of hospitality. That word means everything to us: warmth, kindness, generosity, and compassion.
This week is National Volunteer Week—a time to celebrate the incredible individuals who make our work possible. Without our volunteers, we couldn’t serve more than 1,000 plates of food a day, or distribute clothing, sack lunches, care kits, and the countless small kindnesses that mean so much.
It’s also a week to invite others to join us, especially anyone who might be feeling a lack of connection, purpose, or warmth in their own life. Volunteer work isn’t just about giving. It’s about receiving, too. Because what better way to fill your own cup than by offering a warm meal, a cup of coffee, or a kind word to someone who needs it?
Come join us. Learn how you can volunteer here.
