Libraries are poised to feed many kinds of hunger

I’m a sucker for a library with a big, fat cookbook collection. Like a well-stocked pantry, it offers endless possibilities—recipes for quick weeknight dinners, menu inspiration for a cocktail party, or an introduction to a new culture by way of cuisine. From the kitchens of chefs, celebrities, nutritionists, influencers, and culinary experts, titles may range from the practical to the sublime.

In addition to covering those wonderful cookbooks, LJ has reported on creative culinary literacy programs popping up in libraries. The Edible Alphabet at the Free Library of Philadelphia is a free English Language Learning program that blends language skill-building with nutrition education for non-native speakers. Ron Block, of Cuyahoga County Public Library, OH—author of “Stories and Recipes to Savor” (pp. 14–19)—was a 2020 Mover & Shaker for his A Cook and A Book series, which combines book discussions, author talks, and cooking demonstrations at the library.

Last year, LJ explored how food-related programs like The Longest Table event, at Howard County Library System, MD, can address social isolation and loneliness. Looking at this month’s cover photo—an outdoor meal shared among friends and family from Samin Nosrat’s new book, Good Things: Recipes and Rituals To Share with People You Love—we catch a glimpse of an irresistible spread in an idyllic setting. Food brings people together in ways that nurture the body and soul.

Even while recognizing the important and valuable benefits that these food-based offerings provide, we must acknowledge that they come from a place of privilege. For many Americans, it’s a struggle to consistently find affordable and nutritious food. According to the Annie E. Casey Foundation, about 13 percent of the U.S. population live in low-income and low-access areas, meaning a census tract with a poverty rate of at least 20 percent and more than one mile (urban) or 10 miles (rural) from the nearest supermarket or large grocery store.

In July, the Associated Press reported that SNAP, formerly known as food stamps, supported more than 42 million people nationwide—nearly one in eight Americans. That same month, President Trump signed the One Big Beautiful Bill Act into law, advancing a domestic policy agenda that significantly reduces spending on federal programs.

Among the spending cuts are changes to SNAP work requirements, which the nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office estimates will lead to 2.4 million fewer Americans receiving food assistance. Previously exempt parents with dependent children age 14+, veterans, people experiencing homelessness, youth who were in foster care, and seniors up to age 64 will now be required to work or volunteer at least 80 hours each month to receive benefits.

Analysis by the Brookings Institution does not find strong evidence linking work requirements with increased employment. Rather, as Dr. Jessica Knurick, a registered dietitian with a PhD in nutrition science whose Substack covers public health and food policy, explains, work requirements “function as a barrier to access where people lose benefits because they fail to navigate burdensome paperwork or miss deadlines.”

The effects of these changes will be felt in libraries. New SNAP work requirements will potentially mean more community members using library resources for reporting compliance. Library staff will need to be ready if called upon to help their community navigate a complex benefits information landscape. Partnerships with health and human services agencies will be key to ensuring the library can meet the information needs of its public.

For libraries that partner with local food banks on food distributions or mobile pantries, a funding freeze across the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s Emergency Food Assistance Program may drastically reduce or altogether eliminate some programs.

I have always viewed the library’s commitment to serving all equitably as a commitment to serving the whole person. Attending to people’s hunger with high quality information—and collaborating wherever possible to reduce actual barriers to food—is one more way that libraries are essential community assets.