by James Cox
As a chef living and working in Portland, I find that one small and rarely mentioned component of Portland's health code really defines a new way of thinking about businesses and their role in the community. One of the largest hurdles a developing restaurateur or chef needs to overcome is the initial cash outlay for a licensed and inspected kitchen from which to produce the food one sells. You need a fire suppression system in the ventilation system and a gas shut-off valve that is connected to the whole thing. You need a certain amount of space between the stove and the wall to allow emergency escape if there is a fire. You need NSF-Certified work surfaces and either high-heat or chemical sanitation systems in your dishwasher.
This is just too much money for most people to come up with, so would-be small operators are stuck with working for someone else or, worse still, breaking the law and catering out of unlicensed home kitchens. But there is a solution here in Portland called the "Domestic Food Service License," which allows someone to make food for sale to the public out of their home kitchen legally, as long as they do not have a pet and can provide a separate refrigerator designated for retail food only.
Without the huge initial cash investment needed to buy or rent a kitchen, someone can develop a great food service idea and actually implement it. This has given rise to a number of family-run food business that have become an integral part of the fabric of Portland's food scene. Think taco trucks, cookie vendors, and chocolatiers at farmers markets and street fairs, and almost unlimited ethnic street foods sold from (legal) vending carts. On Southeast Division Street, between 50th and 33rd, there are no fewer than 10 Mexican "Taco Trucks" that sell tacos, yes, but also pozole and carnitas and linguica and fresh corn tortillas made to order.
There is a soup truck near Hawthorne and 18th that rivals any "Fine Dining" kitchen in the city. On North Mississippi there are restaurants that started out with Domestic Kitchens and even an old car camper converted into a take out joint. Creativity flourishes, risks are taken, and mistakes are made. But because the overhead is manageable, these businesses can recover from mistakes and evolve.
And the owners of these businesses usually do not get into this type of work as an investment. They have a need to create food. Like a painter who paints even when there is no money for rent, these "Hippie Entrepreneurs" crank out delicious food as an expression of themselves. They become invested in their business and their immediate neighborhood. They do not get rich, but they create the community many of us long for, while staying true to themselves and their own ideas of how they want a business to run. They recycle, of course. They commute by bicycle. But they also plant urban gardens and serve what grows there. Portland allows up to three egg-laying hens without a permit, and more if you simply file some paperwork with the city. Even goats are legal. (But not roosters!)
In Portland we are now witnessing what can happen when "Standard of Living" laws don't just mean arresting drunks and prostitutes. By allowing these old fashioned yet modern businesses to exist, Portland is creating something greater than the sum of its parts. Soon I hope I will be able to eat a tomato, basil, and goat cheese omelette made from eggs harvested by my neighbor Heidi, tomatoes and basil from the city's own urban gardening program, and cheese from goats kept to eat the grass on someone's yard out on the border with Gresham. All made by some unreformed Deadhead, still slightly broken up over Jerry dying but happily cooking for his community.
And I hope his name will be Jim!