Sara Roth

First, a disclaimer: I have never been to New Orleans. But this hasn't stopped me from developing a far-away love for the food, culture and history of this unique American city. So I was thrilled when Bourbon Street Bend, the New Orleans-style eatery, opened this summer in the old Staccato location on Minnesota Ave.

Neighborhoods are defined not just by their residents, but the shops, cafes and markets that hold them together. Neighborhood businesses are a reflection of the hood's personality – they employ neighbors, act as meeting places, organize get-togethers and events.
Such is the case with Riverside Market, the casual café and corner store between NW Congress Street and NW McCann Avenue in the historic mill-era neighborhood south of Drake Park. In the past, it's seen good times and bad times. At its best, it's been a meeting spot for bridge players and floaters stopping in for a beer after a day on the river. At its seediest, it's been a hangout spot for early-morning drunks and transients, with bathrooms used as makeshift bathhouses. But with its recent purchase by John and Melanie Gaipo, Riverside might have become the friendliest neighborhood market in Bend.

The words “local” and “sustainable” have been on the tips of food-centric tongues lately. Restaurants tout their local meats and produce – some even grow organic vegetables in their own backyards. With the increased popularity of farmers markets and eating local foods, it seems the whole country is jumping on the local food movement bandwagon. Well, except for those who can't afford to join in.

The words “local” and “sustainable” have been on the tips of food-centric tongues lately. Restaurants tout their local meats and produce – some even grow organic vegetables in their own backyards. With the increased popularity of farmers markets and eating local foods, it seems the whole country is jumping on the local food movement bandwagon. Well, except for those who can't afford to join in.
Next week, farmers, non-profits, food-related organizations and anyone else who wants to join in the discussion will meet at Central Oregon Community College to figure out how to make local, sustainable, nutritious food accessible for everyone in Central Oregon. Led by Sydney Leonard, an Americorps VISTA volunteer working on behalf of Wy'East Resource Conservation, the Food Summit is a one-day meeting that's been in the making for over a year.

Before I lived in Bend, I was living in New York. The Big Apple gave me an appreciation for many things: street art, the perfect music venue (Bowery Ballroom, the Mercury Lounge), well-run subway systems. But perhaps most importantly, New York instilled in me a love of kosher delis. Not just the perfectly sliced, flavorful meats and cheeses and fresh-baked rye bread and onion rolls. Jewish delis have personality that can't be contained in their often small, nondescript digs. Walk one of these delis, and see if you don't hear at least one dude behind the counter shout “Hey there!” with a huge smile on his face while the patriarch mastermind whips up head-sized sandwiches behind the counter.
While Bend's dining scene is growing, there are a few big-city institutions we're still waiting for. A killer cheese shop. Vietnamese sandwiches. Ramen. And, until recently, a kosher deli. But not anymore. Let's all say Shalom to the Letzer family, who has brought a real live Jewish deli to Bend.

Before I lived in Bend, I was living in New York. The Big Apple gave me an appreciation for many things: street art, the perfect music venue (Bowery Ballroom, the Mercury Lounge), well-run subway systems. But perhaps most importantly, New York instilled in me a love of kosher delis. Not just the perfectly sliced, flavorful meats and cheeses and fresh-baked rye bread and onion rolls. Jewish delis have personality that can't be contained in their often small, nondescript digs. Walk one of these delis, and see if you don't hear at least one dude behind the counter shout “Hey there!” with a huge smile on his face while the patriarch mastermind whips up head-sized sandwiches behind the counter.