What do these numbers mean for a local pantry like FISH Food Pantry, directed by Ellen Simpson in Montgomery County? Day-to-day, it means stretching less food farther, facing empty shelves and tougher choices as more and more neighbors find themselves in need.
“Every month, we’re dipping more and more into our savings because of the cost and the amount of people coming,” Simpson said. Where FISH was serving about 350-400 families a week just a year ago, that number has now climbed to between 550 and 600 families—up to 1,900 individuals—each month, with some 80 new households seeking help monthly. People who once donated are now waiting in line for food.
The local strain mirrors a national wave: food banks across the U.S. report “unprecedented” and “unsustainable” levels of need, Food Bank News reported.
For FISH, fewer resources are coming from upstream. Recently, Simpson noted, “We couldn’t get cereal or pasta noodles at all. It wasn’t even an option.”
As the LWVMC noted last year, before the billions of dollars in cuts, local food banks work with Feeding America, which helps to distribute national donations to local hubs such as Food Finders. Local pantries obtain commodities and other staples from central hubs like Food Finders. It takes the central organization to collect and distribute such staples to avoid both food waste and gluts in one area or another. Pantries use their web portals to “order” from the available inventory.
Interested in helping? Find FISH Food on Facebook.
The problem now is that when staple items reappear, available quantities are low, Simpson noted. The pantry once had pages of options to choose from; now, it’s maybe 20, many of which are impractical or unsuited for family needs.
It’s not only a food supply problem. Pantries like FISH rely heavily on volunteers, but as the population ages and budgets tighten, it’s harder to recruit and keep the volunteer workforce needed to collect, sort, and distribute food—especially on busy shifts like Fridays.
“Most of my volunteers are elderly. The younger generation isn’t stepping up much, probably because they’re working more and struggling, too,” says Simpson.
Simpson also notes that as funding and donations shrink, food banks must prioritize, often removing less nourishing “snack” shelf items and focusing limited dollars on proteins and items that can stretch further across more meals. Canned pasta, for example, once a staple, is now offered sparingly.
“We’re using that money toward chicken or tuna…something that you can make a full meal from.” Clients are now asked to choose between eggs or cheese, as FISH must limit both due to soaring costs and unreliable supply.
A perfect storm of overlapping crises—food price inflation, slashed safety net programs, and eroding private donations—means more clients are making tough choices about what to eat, what they can cook given limited resources, and what hygiene items they have to go without. These aren’t luxuries: SNAP does not cover things like shampoo or dish soap, items that vanish as soon as they are stocked.
Local responses can soften some blows. FISH maintains a section for “unhoused” neighbors—food that can be eaten cold or prepared with just hot water. The pantry works to provide intercultural foods for a growing, diverse client base, recruits volunteers of all ages, and even welcomes bulk donations of cleaning or hygiene products that can be split up to stretch further. Simpson is working on getting an online donation platform up and running, and appeals to local businesses have occasionally yielded a check or a needed piece of equipment for the pantry’s waiting area.
But as Ellen Simpson puts it, “We’re not just about food anymore. We’re about helping people navigate this world,” whether that means giving out resources for rent, job search help, or simply providing a safe space for families. The burden is heavy: “People don’t realize the amount of work…It’s what they don’t see.”