By Paula Day

West Paces Ferry Road, a street sheltered by overhanging branches, bordered by sweeping lawns and site of the governor's mansion is being connected with the soup kitchens, shelters and street people in downtown Atlanta by a six-month-old project, Atlanta's Table.

The project, begun in April, is an effort to collect and distribute prepared food to Atlanta's needy from the city's restaurants, caterers, hotels and other sources. The tax-deductible contributions of quality food are picked up and delivered daily to the soup kitchens and shelters of the city.

Rob Johnson, project director, explains, "A growing number of people, some of them church people, who attended functions in downtown Atlanta, became increasingly aware of the growing problem of homelessness and aware of food being thrown away at these functions."

This increased awareness, coupled with calls to the Atlanta Community Food bank from restaurant management who did not want to throw away leftover food, sparked the idea for the Atlanta's Table project, which is sponsored by the Food Bank.

The gap between abundance and need is bridged by Yvette Boulware, who drives the Table's Ford Econoline refrigerated van. The 27-year-old woman is a New York native who came south to attend Spelman College and fell in love with Atlanta. Her deft handling of the van in Atlanta traffic, and her knowledge of back street short-cuts learned through trial and error are critical to the smooth flow of daily pick-ups and deliveries. Many of the donors are located in North Atlanta; the shelters and soup kitchens are downtown or in South Atlanta and so a well-used city map is right up front on the van's dash.

Ms. Boulware's high energy level comes in handy as she loads pans containing 20 pounds of Cajun red beans onto a shoulder-high rack in back of the van. Her active mind is already planning where best to take the chili and lamb stew picked up earlier.

"You have to consider what storage space is available," she points out, "and how many people the agency serves. The smallest shelter takes care of five to seven people. Also, what kind of facilities they have -- sit down or carry out -- and their utensils. I can't take soup or stews to a place that doesn’t have bowls."

Ms. Boulware keeps track of what she delivered the previous week to each shelter or soup kitchen to avoid repeating a menu. She also asks for feedback. The men at one shelter particularly liked the spicy food from a Cajun restaurant; the teens at the Salvation Army Youth Lodge will appreciate the chili after a football game, when "we need something quick, fast and in a hurry," as a Lodge staff member put it.

The prepared foods range in variety: filet mignon to barbeque to stuffed cabbage or raw vegetables. On occasion the Table accepts raw meat and poultry but with caution. As another precaution, samples of the donated food are taken, frozen and kept at the Food Bank. If anyone at a shelter gets sick the samples from food distributed to it will be tested as a possible source of food poisoning. "We don't expect problems, but there's always a slim chance. We're more wary of leftover foods than those freshly prepared," Ms. Boulware pointed out. Atlanta's Table provides donors with information outlining food quality, safety and health standards.

"Today we've picked up only freshly prepared food, not leftovers," Yvette Boulware noted. "These restaurants really don't cook more than they need, so they donate food cooked just for the Table." She attests to the food's quality: "The lamb stew has pieces big enough to be lamb chops. It's called stew only because they threw in a few vegetables for color." She makes a mental note that more vegetables can be added and the quantity stretched to feed the hungry in one of the larger shelters.

One of the day's stops is at a north-Atlanta country club. Its behind-the-scenes, well-worn kitchen is in marked contrast to the club's elegant dining area. Even the chefs in white, stove-pipe headgear don't diminish the functional, kitchen atmosphere. The club could be a symbol for the two worlds brought together by Atlanta's Table.

The chefs are essential to this union, according to Rob Johnson. They are aware of extra food; they can implement owners' decisions to make food donations.

Bill McKinnon, owner of McKinnon's Louisiane Restaurant donates the ingredients for the Cajun-style red beans and hot dogs he gives each week. Mark Smith, the restaurant's chef, prepares the food on his own time.

"My feeling is that sometimes we don't appreciate what we have," Smith says. "We forget how fortunate we really are and that there are other people out there who aren't quite as fortunate as we are. The time I spend doing this is very little out of my life."

These less fortunate turn to a variety of places for food. One is United Baptist Women's Shelter in south Atlanta, a large converted gym packed with wall-to-wall cots where 75 to 100 women and children can find shelter. Ms. Boulware left the lamb stew and rice there because the shelter has little storage space and the food would be ready for the evening meal.

St. Anthony's Soup Kitchen was the second stop of the afternoon. Located in the basement of St. Anthony's Catholic Church in southwest Atlanta, the kitchen feeds 150 people a noon meal four times a week. The meal was over, the kitchen cleaned up, the men scattered out into the warm autumn afternoon when the van backed up to the kitchens entrance. Virginia Helms and James Blunt from the parish staff helped unload the pans of red beans and hot dogs. Carefully the food was stored in the kitchen's large refrigerators, ready for the next day's noon meal.

Yvette Boulware checked her watch as she pulled the van into Atlanta's traffic. She needed to get to her next stop, Atlanta Women's Day Shelter, before four o'clock when the shelter's manager, Cindy Hewitt, would be getting the 50 or 60 women and children ready to leave for the day. Two pans of fresh chili left there would be frozen and ready for the weekend.

The last stop of the afternoon was at the Salvation Army's Youth Lodge on Howell Mill Road. The Lodge is a shelter for troubled teens and can accommodate 12 boys and 12 girls. Staff member Debra Harris was glad to get the remaining pans of chili. After the football game the next afternoon, it would feed the nine boys and five girls presently staying at the Lodge.

Back at the Atlanta Community Food Bank, Ms. Boulware cleaned the van's interior and hooked its refrigeration unit up for overnight recharging. In the morning the unit's temperature would be down to zero and would remain cool for the day's run. The van was purchased with seed money donated by Steak and Ale Corporation.

According to Rob Johnson, food donors fit into three categories: those who provide freshly prepared food on a regular, usually weekly basis; those who collect leftovers regularly and keep them frozen for weekly pick-ups; and larger food services such as caterers or hotels who donate food only occasionally. The World Congress Center, for example, made a donation of hundreds of pounds of roast beef after one of its functions. Once or twice a month the Table may receive a donation from the Omni after a banquet where too much was ordered. But it is the weekly contributions that are the mainstay of the Table's efforts.

Saint Joseph's Hospital freezes leftovers from its daily menus and Yvette Boulware picks them up each Wednesday. These donations can amount to several hundred pounds of food a week. According to Ms. Boulware, the hospital has offered to freeze foods for other area hospitals who want to be involved in the project.

Johnson hopes for participation from larger hotels. He is quick to point out, however, that a key to the project's success so far has been its advisory board whose "hospitality people have put us in touch with food sources."

"The amount of food we hope to get is only a small portion of the total food needed," John son points out. "It is helpful to be part of the Atlanta Community Food Bank. Prepared food is one piece of a puzzle that is much bigger."

Johnson is looking for creative ways to get the food to those who need it. He hopes eventually to eliminate his "middleman" role and link donors directly to recipients. Whatever the future of Atlanta's Table, Johnson says, "it is really clear that the hospitality industry in general is becoming involved in the hunger issue."

The project's food distribution report, a monthly summary of its activities, indicates a steady increase in the amount of food donated, the number of donors and the number of agencies served. But last February's projections of food quantity for the coming year were still off the mark. "We estimated 100,000 pounds of food would be contributed by 25 donors and distributed to 15 agencies. It looks like the volume will be closer to 60,000 pounds. We are distributing food from 45 donors to 27 agencies right now. That's less food than expected and 30 percent of it is coming from smaller restaurants."

Johnson plans to add another van to the effort in the very near future. As Yvette Boulware observed, the need for hot food will increase when cold weather really sets in.

(More information about Atlanta's Table can be obtained from Rob Johnson at 892-1250 or 892-9822.)