by Porter Truax.
Sunlight blares through the window and the man stirs. Slowly, he unrolls himself from his bed, peeling back the sheet, and pushes himself up. His hands reach for the corners of his eyes, transforming into fists. He pushes his fists into the sockets, maneuvering them like windshield wipers: up, down, up, down. He swings his legs over the steel bed frame, stands up, sits down, and looks at the cinder block wall. He gazes out the window. His stomach rumbles and he waits for breakfast. Jail staff will be by shortly.
When breakfast time comes, staff escort him and other inmates down the hallway to the break room. Again, he waits. Staff arrive with trays and the morning meal. Today’s is the usual: fruit juice from concentrate, cold cereal, milk, and coffee cake. Nothing special. If he had money on his commissary, he might be able to get a cup of coffee.
Today, he doesn’t have money. He eats quietly. After twenty minutes, staff come and take his tray. He didn’t make the food, and he doesn’t clean it either. Later that night, a truck carrying the next’s days food and will take the tray back to the kitchen where it came from, the kitchen that had prepared that day’s food, down in Owatana, Steele County.
This is what most mornings look like for the approximate 44 daily inmates at the Rice County Jail. “It’s not gourmet food,” says Carol Holinka, the jail administrator. “It’s substantive food. It provides the nutritional values that they need.” And, what happens when inmates don’t find it edible?
”Aviands slightly exceeds the caloric requirements so that they have some padding,” says Holinka. That is, if inmates feel they are unable to eat something on their tray, there should be at least one another item they can eat. While jail staff care whether inmates enjoy their food, their main concern is whether the food meets the state’s nutritional requirements (approximately 2,100 calories for men and 1,600 for women).
A’viands is the food services provider for most of Minnesota’s county jails. Incorporated only thirteen years ago, it supplies food for correctional facilities — jails and prisons alike — across the country. They used to supply food for Minnesota’s prisons, too. That is, until a union of Minnesota correctional officers organized to get them kicked out.
Prison Food
The Minnesota Department of Corrections has nine correctional facilities. None of them contract with A’viands anymore.
With the War on Drugs and the growth of prisons through the 1980s and 1990s, federal and state governments looked for cost-effective ways to rehabilitate inmates. It became common for government to contract with third party contractors to provide prison services. In most U.S. prisons, healthcare, telecommunication services, and even food services are supplied by private contractors. In 1975, the Minnesota Department of Corrections outsourced it’s first kitchen to a third party contractor. By 2014, seven of Minnesota’s nine correctional facilities outsourced their food to a local contractor (The only two to not outsource their kitchens? St. Cloud and Red Wing, facilities that have inmate-tended gardens that provide food for facility kitchens ad local nonprofit).
Outsourcing food to third party contractors is risky, says Jennifer Munt of the American Federation of State, County, and Municipal employees (“AFSCME”), especially in prison. In the past five years, several scandals have emerged about contractors messing up. Aramark, a publicly traded company based in Philadelphia generating billions in revenue each year, is among the most notorious. In Michigan, Aramark reportedly fed inmates spoiled, rotten food from trashcans in maggot infested kitchens. In Ohio, the American Civil Liberties Union claims Aramark had 240 food shortages. Seems peculiar to Aramark? Not so, says Munt. Contracting with A’viands, the Minnesota Department of Corrections struggled with similar issues.
In 2014, corrections officers and members of AFSCME began campaigning to get the company out. AFSCME representatives claimed A’viands occasionally served moldy food, expired milk, and sometimes food that was too burned or overcooked to be edible. They had shortages, too. Once, at a Moose Lake facility, when A’viands ran out of chicken, they served ice cream sandwiches instead (when asked about the shortage, an A’viands representative claimed the substitution was made because the chicken and ice cream sandwiches had similar caloric intake). Shortages like this are dangerous, says Munt, and “they can lead to a prison riot.” Further, says Munt, “A’viands doesn’t pay a living wage to its workers and so, there was a revolving door, where workers were bringing in contraband.” Having correctional officers, trained to work with inmates, makes for a safer workplace, says Munt.
Without union protections, things were pretty tough for A’viands employees too. In an Oak Park Heights, inmate kitchen staff beat up an elderly A’viands employee, who was supposedly there to oversee them (in prisons, inmates often have jobs around the institution). Correctional officers later found him unconscious and half of his body stashed in a refrigerator.
In 2014, Minnesota Department of Corrections commissioner Tom Roy agreed to let Aviands’ contract lapse. Later that year, AFSCME and state representative Debra Hilstrom pushed for a bill that would prohibit prisons from outsourcing their kitchens to private contractors. The bill never passed. But, today, says Munt, “A’viands is out, AFSCME is back, and now state employees are providing the food.” Bringing the services “in-house” has resulted in the hiring of several corrections officers, the majority of which are supervisor cooks who oversee inmates in the kitchen. While it costs more per meal, $3.29, the higher costs mean that Minnesota’s 8,000 inmates are eating safer, better food than before.
While the Minnesota Department of Corrections has finished partnering with A’viands, the department continues partnering with a company to do food inventory, Indianhead Food Services from Eau Claire, Wisconsin.
So, what are inmates eating these days? The core menu, created by a team of food supervisors and dietitians, changes twice per year on account of the season. Meals are different each day and the menu has variety. Generally, breakfasts consist of a grain and a meat, lunches of vegetables and meats, and dinners of meats and vegetables.
Jail Food
For those wondering: jails and prisons are not the same. Prisons are for people convicted of crimes and sentenced to prison. Jails are for people charged with a crime who are unable to post bail money until their legal matters are resolved. Inmates in jail have not been proven guilty of a crime.
As the number of inmates in correctional facilities increases, so has the number of inmates in county jails. County budgets tend to be smaller than state budgets and so most counties can’t afford to provide in-house services. Many jails have also turned to third party contractors.
Before making the switch to A’viands several years ago, the Rice County jail contracted with Hy-Vee, a grocery store in Faribault. Hy-vee employees prepared the food at the store and transported it to the jail each morning. The contract ended because it was too expensive. Contracting with A’viands only costs the county $2.71 per meal, a “very reasonable price,” says Holinka.
A’viands staff prepare the food in the Steele County jail in Owatana, a twenty minute drive south of the Rice County jail in Faribault. There’s an industrial kitchen there: a walk in refrigerator, freezer, several sinks, and a dishwasher. The facility has an industrial mixer, two ovens, steamers, and a kettle. It’s got the works.
The Rice County jail’s menu isn’t nearly as varied as the prison’s menu. Breakfast and lunch are the same everyday. Dinner is where things get spicy: casseroles, Turkey à la King, seasoned green beans. Unlike in prisons where inmates may have access to hot pots, utensils, cups, bowls, and plates in their cells (depending on their living unit), jail inmates have no access to these items.
Neither Holinka nor Ron Hammann, the jail administrator at Steele County jail, have had problems with A’viands. “I get very few complaints!” says Hammann. The meals, says Hammann, “look good, taste good, and meet the dietary requirements.” Still, Hammann has yet to try a full meal. “I have, at times, tasted items to spot check quality.”
A’viands’ problems in the prisons do not worry Hammann. “A good kitchen manager makes all the difference. I have not had any real issues with spoiled food.” And staffing problems?
A’viands job postings for jails in Minnesota says that, while preferred, applicants need not have prior experience in jails or prisons. A’viands “We background the individuals that are considered for employment. We provide additional security and PREA trainings to their staff. If someone doesn’t work out, we will revoke their ability to enter the building,” says Hammann. Yet, he doubts that the problems with A’viands staff in prisons were limited to A’viands. “Statistically, that profession is high risk but across the whole profession, not just one vendor.”
A’viands even makes the food look good. “They work hard on presentation and seem to do just a little extra on the holidays,” says Hamman. “It doesn’t seem like much of a big deal but it matters to the inmates. They are stuck here in jail and it spices up their day a bit.”
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