In the John Waters-esque sector of northwest Baltimore -- equal parts kitschy, sketchy, artsy and weird -- Gerry Mak and Sarah Magida sauntered through a small ethnic market stocked with Japanese eggplant, mint chutney and fresh turmeric. After gathering ingredients for that evening's dinner, they walked to the cash register and awaited their moments of truth.
"I have $80 bucks left!" Magida said. "I'm so happy!"
"I have $12," Mak said with a frown.
The two friends weren't tabulating the cash in their wallets but what remained of the monthly allotment on their Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program debit cards, the official new term for what are still known colloquially as food stamps.
Magida, a 30-year-old art school graduate, had been installing museum exhibits for a living until the recession caused arts funding -- and her usual gigs -- to dry up. She applied for food stamps last summer, and since then she's used her $150 in monthly benefits for things like fresh produce, raw honey and fresh-squeezed juices from markets near her house in the neighborhood of Hampden, and soy meat alternatives and gourmet ice cream from a Whole Foods a few miles away.
"I'm eating better than I ever have before," she told me. "Even with food stamps, it's not like I'm living large, but it helps."
Mak, 31, grew up in Westchester, graduated from the University of Chicago and toiled in publishing in New York during his 20s before moving to Baltimore last year with a meager part-time blogging job and prospects for little else. About half of his friends in Baltimore have been getting food stamps since the economy toppled, so he decided to give it a try; to his delight, he qualified for $200 a month.
"I'm sort of a foodie, and I'm not going to do the 'living off ramen' thing," he said, fondly remembering a recent meal he'd prepared of roasted rabbit with butter, tarragon and sweet potatoes. "I used to think that you could only get processed food and government cheese on food stamps, but it's great that you can get anything."
ut there seems to be a special strain of ire reserved for those like the self-described "30-something, unemployed, ex-fashionista, EBT armed, post-hipster, downtown mom" from New York who, in January, drew nearly 500 comments on the Web site Urbanbaby.com, many seething with fury at her for trying to maintain the trappings of a materialistic, cosmopolitan life while using an Electronic Benefit Transfer card -- food stamps -- to feed her family. (Her blog is now password-protected.)
"You're hosting dinner parties and buying cases of wine -- on taxpayers' money!" one person wrote. "Your attitude is so objectionable that you're like a trainwreck; it's hard to look away." (One cannot, in fact, buy wine with food stamps, though dinner party ingredients are fair game.)
And on the blog Stuff Unemployed People Like, along with "not showering regularly" and "sleeping in while your significant other goes to work," a post last year touted "buying Perrier with food stamps" and sarcastically claimed that "the fancier the food, the more glee there is in knowing the government has once again helped in enabling a lavish lifestyle." Of the reader responses that poured in, many were food stamp users who defended their shopping choices (including, yes, Perrier) while others attacked them.
"While one person works their butt off," one wrote, "another is just waiting in line so they can recieve [sic] their 'luxury' food stamps and recieve [sic] basically whatever they want."
At Magida's brick row house in Baltimore, she and Mak minced garlic while observing that one of the upsides of unemployment was having plenty of time to cook elaborate meals, and that among their friends, they had let go of any bad feelings about how their food was procured.
"It's not a thing people feel ashamed of, at least not around here," said Mak. "It feels like a necessity right now."
Savory aromas wafted through the kitchen as a table was set with a heaping plate of Thai yellow curry with coconut milk and lemongrass, Chinese gourd sautéed in hot chile sauce and sweet clementine juice, all of it courtesy of government assistance.
"At first, I thought, 'Why should I be on food stamps?'" said Magida, digging into her dinner. "Here I am, this educated person who went to art school, and there are a lot of people who need them more. But then I realized, I need them, too."
whole complete article
http://www.salon.com/life/pinched/2010/03/15/hipsters_food_stamps_pinched/