Last Saturday was an interesting day. I spent the morning volunteering at a soup kitchen in Hartford and the evening having dinner at a farm in South Glastonbury.

My morning at the soup kitchen
The Young Lawyers' Section of the Connecticut Bar Association has committed to providing food and volunteers for meals in three soup kitchens throughout the state once a month. In Hartford, we're staffing the Mercy House kitchen and I've signed up for several of the volunteer spots. I volunteered there once before--I thought it was just last year, but we figured out it was almost three years ago! No reason not to go there more regularly.

The morning went smoothly. We were tasked with preparing spaghetti with meat sauce, garlic bread and salad for the residents of the shelter and non-residents who come for meals. As preparations go, it was an easy meal, and time flew by. Before we knew it, we were bringing out the food and lines had formed both inside and outside of the shelter. Everyone was polite and most people were very friendly. It was a great way to spend three or four hours on a Saturday.

My evening at the farm
Each year, two restaurateurs and a farmer organize Dinners at the Farm, a series of dinners that promote and focus on eating local food. The dinners are pretty impressive, in large part because the meals are prepared entirely at the farms, using produce and/or poultry raised at the host farm and others in the area. My mother and I splurged for one of these dinners last year (the ticket price is pretty high, in part because farmers and designated non-profits receive portions of the proceeds) and had a great time despite the torrential downpours that week. This year, my sister also came along.

We got a short tour of Old Maids Farm, which this year is growing primarily organic corn to be turned into feed for livestock and poultry, but also raises chickens and turkeys and sells organic compost to local landscapers and towns. Then we settled in for a multi-course (but small portion) meal that included mozzarella and potato salad, seafood tamales, heritage turkey stuffed with something delicious, and molasses cake. We drank wine, local beer, and apple whiskey sours. It was a nice evening.

I had a better time at the soup kitchen.

At the soup kitchen, I was surrounded by people dressed in jeans and t-shirts, track pants and sweatshirts. The cook and other staff working at the shelter were friendly and outgoing and easy to be around. At the farm, I was surrounded by women in high heels, men in jackets and people who arrived in limos. (Limos to a dinner at a farm. Yes.) My mother, sister and I felt underdressed in our practical shoes, jeans, and light sweaters. Most of the attendees looked like they stepped out of a Brooks Brothers catalog. (Full disclosure: Yes, I own some Brooks Brothers clothes. I'm a lawyer, it's practically a requirement. But at a farm? Come on.)

At the soup kitchen, everyone we served thanked us. Some thanked us more than once. At the farm, I was surprised at how infrequent the thanks were for the servers walking around with hors d'oeuvre, filling wine glasses, and serving each course.

At the soup kitchen, everyone was friendly. The volunteers, staff, and residents smiled at each other, chatted, asked questions about each other. At the farm, few people mingled, despite the family-style sit-down meal.

Maybe I've truly become a city girl. Maybe this dinner was just unusually fancy because it was in South Glastonbury at a farm along the water surrounded by huge houses. But the result of Saturday is that I'm really looking forward to my next weekend morning at Mercy House, and I don't think I'll be attending one of the Dinners at the Farm next year.