On a crisp fall morning in the Columbia County hamlet of Churchtown, steam curls off stockpots in the converted firehouse that now houses Columbia Kitchen. A line of volunteers carries trays of plated dinners toward waiting cars. By mid-day, those meals will rattle across rural roads, arriving at doorsteps, libraries, and community centers wherever someone might need a hot meal.
This is what Jolene Race-Pendergast, Columbia Kitchen’s executive director’s idea of “neighbors helping neighbors” looks like in practice: A hundred volunteers, a handful of professional chefs, and a farm network woven into the county’s agricultural fabric—all pushing against hunger in a region that often appears prosperous on the surface.
From Pandemic Spark to Countywide Operation
Columbia Kitchen began in 2020 as Columbia County Recovery Kitchen, when community members Carol Clarke and Pam Klein responded to the sudden pandemic need for fresh, ready-to-eat meals. At the time, they were preparing about 200 meals a week. Five years later, the program is at nearly 2,000 meals a week.
Much of that expansion has come since Jolene Race-Pendergast stepped in as executive director 18 months ago. Drawing on decades of county experience—she spent 34 years in local government, eventually running Columbia County’s solid waste department—she has tapped into town boards, libraries, churches, and a growing farm network. “We service all of Columbia County,” she says. “We have two full-time chefs, one part-time, and over a hundred volunteers.”
The headquarters is the decommissioned Churchtown Firehouse, now on its way to becoming a community center. When Columbia Kitchen outgrew its Hudson church basement, the firehouse offered the right kind of commercial kitchen space. “It was pretty amazing,” Race-Pendergast says. “Two organizations helping each other—us with a new kitchen, them with a tenant paying rent.”
The Landscape of Hunger
Nationally, hunger is rising again after years of decline. According to the USDA’s Economic Research Service, 13.5 percent of US households experienced food insecurity in 2023, up from 12.8 percent the year before. That translates to more than 44 million Americans—many of them children—who lack consistent access to enough nutritious food. About 5.1 percent of households endured “very low food security,” meaning meals were skipped or portions cut because food was unaffordable.
Closer to home, the Hudson Valley is not immune. FeedHV, a regional food rescue and harvesting network, estimates one in ten residents lives with food insecurity, and about one-third of children qualify for free or reduced school lunches. Columbia and Ulster counties have been measured at around 14 percent food insecurity—higher than the national average. But Race-Pendergast cautions against relying too literally on statistics: “There are a lot of pockets of food insecurity that we’re not even aware of. The population is always changing. Rents are higher, electric is higher, inflation—so many factors cause people, even for a short period, to be in need.”
In rural counties like Columbia, hunger doesn’t announce itself with soup-kitchen lines or city-block food banks. It hides in remote houses where transportation is scarce, where the nearest grocery store may be miles away, and where pride or stigma keeps families from asking for help. “The rural county is the hardest to locate,” Race-Pendergast says. “These are people that have very few neighbors. They’re in a food desert.”
Across the Hudson Valley, other organizations are pursuing parallel paths. In Beacon and surrounding towns, Fareground runs pop-up marketplaces, home delivery, community fridges, and tiny pantries—and now serves more than 200 families a week by partnering with local farms and mobilizing over 400 volunteers. In Kingston, People’s Place operates a “Your Choice” pantry and a community cafe, recently expanding its space, adding walk-in coolers, and rolling out a farm-stand that provides free produce to over 1,200 people weekly. These efforts echo Columbia Kitchen’s mission: blending dignity, access, and local food systems to meet growing demands in a fragile safety-net landscape.
Farmers, Volunteers, and a Food Network
One of Columbia Kitchen’s greatest strengths is that it’s grounded in the region’s farms. Roughly 26 farms donate produce and meat. Some contributions are facilitated through the Glynwood’s Food Sovereignty Fund, which subsidizes donations by paying farms to provide food to community organizations. Board liaison Nancy Kuster leads gleaning efforts, while volunteers play key roles in connecting with farmers, neighbors, and recipients.
“We’re lucky to be an agricultural county,” Jolene says. “The founders wanted the food to be restaurant quality, and that’s what we strive for.”
Meals are distributed not just to individuals but to agencies and programs: Head Start classrooms, Hudson youth initiatives, and the homeless population. Partnerships bring in some funding, but most of the operation still runs on fundraising, grants, and donations. They also serve the Hotaling Memorial Mission, a shelter for the unhoused located in the First Reformed Church on Green Street.
Refrigerators in Public Spaces
Home delivery remains central, but Columbia Kitchen is expanding into a new model: community refrigerators. Thanks to a Kennedy Foundation grant, refrigerators have been placed in public spaces like the New Lebanon Community Center, the Philmont Library, and Columbia-Greene Community College. More are planned for Chatham, Canaan, and Kinderhook.
The refrigerators allow meals to be accessed quietly and flexibly. Someone running out of SNAP benefits at the end of the month can pick up a few dinners without filling out paperwork or waiting for a delivery. A child attending after-school tutoring at the Kinderhook Library can leave with food for their family.
“It’s about being thoughtful in our approach of where we’re placing these refrigerators,” Race-Pendergast says. “Trying to get them to the populations that need it most.”
Of course, stocking them is costly. The grant covered the purchase, but fundraising now needs to keep them filled.
New Ideas on the Horizon
Two new initiatives are in the works. The first: “Congregate Meals” hosted in community spaces where neighbors can eat together. Jolene sees these meals as a way to address isolation, especially among seniors post-Covid. County officials or service providers would be able to join—not at tables with brochures, but sitting among residents—to answer questions and connect people to resources like heating assistance.
The second: family cooking nights, modeled after a Cornell Cooperative Extension program. Parents and children prepare a meal together, eat together, and then take home ingredients to recreate it. Race-Pendergast sees the family cooking nights as a way to broaden food exposure. She recalls parents and children encountering new ingredients together, learning how to cook them, and taking those skills home. Both programs are funded by grants and are slated to roll out later this year.
When Safety Nets Fray
What drives the need is not just Columbia County’s rural geography, but national policy shifts. Pandemic-era expansions of SNAP and child tax credits temporarily reduced food insecurity. Their rollback, coupled with inflation and high housing costs, has brought demand roaring back.
“Unfortunately, with the cuts coming from SNAP benefits and Medicare and Medicaid, it’s ramping up,” Jolene says. “The founders hoped in 2020 our services wouldn’t continue to be needed, but the opposite has happened.”
The situation is compounded by the USDA’s recent decision to cancel its annual Household Food Security Survey, eliminating a key national data source. Critics argue the move makes it harder to track where hunger is deepening—and harder for organizations like Columbia Kitchen to make the case for support.
Dignity and Stigma
Accessing free food carries stigma, especially in small towns. Race-Pendergast knows this, and Columbia Kitchen’s design tries to lower the barrier. No government offices, no complicated applications. Instead, they can fill out a short online form, after which Columbia Kitchen’s intake person follows up by phone to talk through their needs and connect them with other services. “At some point in life, everybody struggles,” she says. “We don’t view it as judgment. Most of our recipients are just thankful to have a well-balanced meal.”
That neighborly tone has helped build trust. Volunteers sometimes hear of neighbors who wouldn’t come forward themselves. Word spreads. “The food sells itself, the organization sells itself,” Race-Pendergast says. “It’s just good people, wanting to help others.”
A Microcosm of a Larger Crisis
Columbia Kitchen is one of hundreds of community kitchens, pantries, and food rescue programs trying to close the gap left by federal and state cuts. Its story mirrors the national pattern: demand outpacing resources, but also communities innovating on the ground.
In a region where one in ten goes hungry, Columbia Kitchen demonstrates the power of local agriculture, volunteerism, and creativity. As Race-Pendergast notes, cuts to federal programs like SNAP and Medicare are fueling demand. Her words underscore a larger truth: while Columbia Kitchen has expanded, community-based programs can’t replace the role of federal safety nets. Without them, grassroots efforts will always be playing catch-up.
How to Help
For those who want to get involved, Columbia Kitchen keeps it simple. Volunteers can cook, package, or deliver meals. Farms and local businesses can donate surplus food. Donations keep the refrigerators stocked and the chefs paid. “It comes down to neighbors helping neighbors,” Jolene says. “We’re just here to help you for as long as you need it.” In the patchwork of food insecurity, Columbia Kitchen offers a thread of resilience. It’s not a fix for the national crisis, but it’s a reminder that in the face of fraying safety nets, communities can still stitch together something strong enough to hold a neighbor up.
