CHARITY
Head Pastry Chef at Fabrica Michelle Barbosa Volunteering at Chefs for the People
Volunteer Hanna Carine Lumbroso gets ready to pack salads at Chefs for the People
Rita Sousa
Meals for Many BY MEREDITH PRICE LEVITT
It was an innocent gesture. Hanna Carine Lumbroso was doing her best to clean up the mess we had made in the Odiáxere Sports Club’s kitchen. Greasy knives, tomato-covered chopping boards and mounds of plastic bowls covered every counter. But just as Lumbroso reached for the chef Michelle Barbosa’s dirty cleaver, her mistake was immediately apparent. “Don’t put a finger on those!” Barbosa exclaimed in her charming South African lilt. She stopped stirring a pot of steaming soup the size of a wild boar. Her free hand hovered above a set of four pristine silver blades. She paused, gave us a small smirk and picked up the cleaver. “Look at the blade on this,” she said, running an appreciative finger slowly along its smooth back edge. “That’s a professional chef knife. I wash these beauties by hand. Only me. No one else touches them.” Barbosa waited until she saw our nod to replace the knife and continue stirring. I made a mental note of the third tip she’d shared that day: always wash your good knives by hand. But this was not a cooking class. Two months into the COVID-19 lockdown, the normally non-stop Odiáxere Sports Club held a palpable emptiness. Its large metal blue doors were still firmly closed to the public, its fields of lush green grass outside were bereft of any players, and its bar taps were shrouded with dust rags. Inside the main hall, stacks of plastic tables and chairs rested in solemn stacks. A pinball machine stood in frozen silence and the glass cabinet showcasing dozens of football trophies was an eerie reminder of the global pandemic. It was my second week of volunteering to help a non-profit organisation in Lagos founded by Rita Sousa and Hamish Gall called Chefs for the People. This time I hadn’t got lost or broken the door handle trying to enter. I already knew Sousa and two of my fellow volunteers. Barbosa started her career in the Portuguese military as a chef and trained with a five-star pastry chef before working her way up to the top. She would normally be whipping up divine desserts at A Fábrica, a fine dining and cocktail restaurant on the beachfront in Luz. Lumbroso, an
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Israeli ex-pat who makes her own bio-organic skincare line called Carine Natural, usually sells at the Wednesday night market in Lagos. Like so many others connected to the tourism industry, they have both been out of a job for months. Recruited by their mutual friend Sousa at the beginning of March, they joined a volunteer force with a simple goal: feeding as many hungry people as possible. “We knew this was going to be bad,” explains Sousa in early June as we sit for coffee in the Burgau supermarket cafe, our masks beside us and our hands freshly sanitised. “People were already living hand to mouth here, so when the lockdown started, suddenly many many people found themselves without an income and without any way to buy food.” To add to the huge dependency on tourism in the Algarve, many seasonal workers here in Lagos don’t have a contract, which means that government aid provides them with no assistance. Instead of having two or three jobs over the summer to make it through the winter, they are unemployed for an indefinite period of time. “We wanted to find a way that people could give what they have and take what they need,” she says. “A place where everyone can come and connect with others and be safe.” The current principle is simple. If you know how to cook, you can volunteer to help make meals. If you need it, you can take some food home. The Odiáxere Sports Club has generously offered its industrial-sized kitchen for free to allow Chefs for the People to make food every afternoon. For now, it’s a start. In the future, Sousa hopes to expand the concept to an entire social centre in which there is a thriving circular economy. Give what you can. Take what you need. “I want to create a place where everyone is welcome and each person participates in any way they can,” Sousa says with contagious excitement. “In exchange for what they give, they are given food, clothing, shelter, childcare... whatever they need.”
