Fast Food Joint Aids Hungry

"We're actually suffering," Michael Phillips said. A round-table discussion of sorts is taking place outside of Chickenfest, but this is nothing unusual. From a middle-aged woman hiding from a stalker to those fired due to downsizing at companies, these hungry men, women, and children are of all age groups and ethnicities, but are bound by similar stories of misfortune and hard luck.

Every evening some 20 homeless people huddle together beneath the prominent red Chickenfest sign on the corner of 109th Street and Broadway to talk about their days, tell their stories, and hope to get a bite to eat.

According to the gathered homeless, Chickenfest has set the standard in Morningside Heights, for it has been giving out approximately 20 packages of food each night for over six years. Since well before new ownership took over Chickenfest a year and a half ago, the restaurant has been donating its leftover food to the homeless before closing.

Every evening around 8:30 p.m. the line of regulars begins to form around the side door of Chickenfest. At 9:30, just before the restaurant shuts down for the evening, the day's leftover grilled chicken, various side dishes, and salads are distributed in an orderly fashion to the hungry on a first come, first served basis.

Because of the limited quantity, "it can sometimes get hectic," William Coles, a regular, said. Nevertheless, those in line appear to be friendly towards one another. Many of them are acquaintances from their years on the streets.

Although the portions are described as slightly small, many of those gathered agree that the food is a welcome treat, especially considering the scarcity of meat in their diets. Additionally, Chickenfest treats the needy well, especially in comparison to other local restaurants that are generous with their aid to the hungry.

"Other restaurants can be rude and nasty, making you stand down half the block for disgusting food," Mirian Guzman said. "Here they don't keep us hidden. They treat us like people." Despite the apparent altruism, the owner of Chickenfest said that he was only continuing the tradition initiated by past ownership. However, the employees don't mind that their nights are a little longer than they would be otherwise.

"They're from around the neighborhood, and you see them on the streets. They're hungry. It's good to help the homeless, and it makes them happy," the cashier said.

A 14-year-old boy in the group, Isaac Bryant, complains about the number of books in his backpack, as all junior high students do. But while most teenagers are finishing their schoolwork at home, Isaac and his mother Connie are worrying about finding their next meal.

Isaac rated the food as "better than nothing. I mean, we've been on the streets. So I guess it's good."

Like many of the homeless waiting for their nightly protein, Connie unabashedly blames New York City and its Department of Victims Services for letting the Bryants "fall through the cracks." She adds, "The people at the service centers said they'd relocate us. But look, do I have a home? Does my child have a home? They just keep on delaying helping us."

Only through a variety of outlets like Chickenfest can these people find decent meals on cold evenings, especially since some in line claim that the neighborhood shelters sometimes run out of meals.

A few waiting patiently for their food even commented on the improvement in New York City's economy over the past few years, remarking that people have to realize that not all have benefited from the prosperous times. Many of the regulars outside of Chickenfest said more area restaurants should follow the lead of this restaurant and help the needy, noting the way other eateries sometimes treat them like "animals."

Despite living in the neighborhood, these people say that they feel invisible to the rest of the Morningside Heights neighborhood. "People look right through us or pretend we're not here. They've got to realize we exist and need help," Philips said.