Publisher's Note
A number of my friends are asking the reasonable question, “Should we stay and fight for the values we hold, or should we move our families to someplace safer, with more freedom?” It’s an understandable query and one that I think about, too. The Supreme Court is now an agent of chaos, the federal government lacks the conviction to address climate change, and gun violence plagues our communities with numbing regularity. It’s a lot to confront both individually and together.
Throughout my life, I have cultivated and grown a community in Mendocino County. I lent my efforts to the localization movement, attending seemingly endless meetings to identify the needs of our local food system, and learned how we could be more resilient and self-sufficient. With like-minded neighbors, we explored what actions we could take locally to reduce our carbon footprint. We strengthened relationships and the community fabric, potluck by potluck. I’ve made my decision and it is to stay, to keep building on the strong foundation here. This issue is filled with stories of people doing just that, people who recognize, as the cover states, that “wherever we’re going, we’re going together.”
The Mendocino Cannabis Alliance (p 11) is one inspiring example. Our state is in danger of killing the golden goose as draconian regulations combined with a corporate-funded oversupply of product have compounded the difficulties faced by small farmers. Yet by joining forces on a shared retail platform and building on collective strengths, this organization helps cannabis farmers reach new markets and build a customer base that can sustain them into the future.
This interconnectedness is also reflected at Meadow Farm (p 23), a property near Fort Bragg, which exists as a land trust and intentional community. Residents and volunteers are literally digging in to grow fresh vegetables for themselves and the local food bank, as well as investing in emergency preparedness to build resilience. In a similar vein, Farmer Gowan Batist (p 38) ruminates on the intricate web of predator, prey, and animal caretaker, and how to keep the ecosystem we share in balance. And fish catchers and other local businesses come together monthly for a community market at Noyo Harbor (p 41) to sell directly to locals.
This “stronger together” concept is metaphorically captured by artist and plant expert Saoirse Byrne, who shares her explorations of the craft of cordage (p 31), twisting fabrics and plant fibers to form lengths of twine or rope that are exponentially stronger than their individual parts. By sharing these tales of collaboration and community interconnectedness in the face of our challenges, we can learn how to survive and thrive together. We may envy the healthcare system, climate action, or government mettle of faraway lands, but I celebrate those who are digging in, building relationships, and fighting the good fight here. I’ll be right alongside you.
Warmly,
Holly Madrigal
Publisher
In the Summer 2022 issue, the image of Elyse and David Hopps, owners of Izakaya Gama, should have been attributed to Caroline Ducato. Our apologies, Caroline.
Fall’s Fabulous Figs!
The Versatile Fruit That’s Ready for Anything
Native to the Middle East, figs first made their appearance in California courtesy of the Spanish missionaries, who planted the first fig tree at the San Diego Mission in 1759. The tree was then planted in each mission in California, leading to the most widespread and popular variety, the Mission fig, black in color and rich in flavor. The tree is long-lived and provides a bounty, and the fruit can be enjoyed fresh, dried, or preserved.
In the late 1800s, central-valley farmers imported some Turkish fig varieties to broaden the market, but found that they did not bear fruit. Investigation as far flung as the Mediterranean resulted in the discovery that some fig varieties—most specifically the ones that were just planted in the Fresno area—require pollination. Some fig trees are male, some female, and some hemaphroditic, called caprifigs. This led to the introduction of both caprifigs and the fig wasp (this is a story for another day, and not for the faint of heart) as the delivery agent of pollen. The effort produced healthy crops but also led to the widespread sprouting of fig trees anywhere they could claim a root-hold. This is good for the wild fig lover (though not necessarily for the fig market economy), and finding a wild fig tree heavy in fruit is one of my favorite things.
There are uncounted varieties of figs today adapted to various weather regions, though the Mission fig is the most commercially available. Figs grow best in regions with plenty of sun and heat, thriving with multiple feedings of compost throughout the year. You can find them at various places throughout Mendocino County, both wild and cultivated.
Figs are lovely fresh, topped with some goat cheese, crushed walnuts, and a sprig of mint. They also make a delightful shrub. But they are particularly tasty in condiment form. Their gentle sweetness and earthy notes pair beautifully with savory meats and fish in a chutney, while a preserve on fresh bread or syrup over vanilla ice cream are equally delicious.
Check out the recipe to make your own and enjoy this fantastic fall fruit.
Mission Fig Chutney
8 ripe Mission Figs
1 T canola oil
1 onion, sliced
¼ c ginger (peeled, chopped fine)
½ c fresh orange juice
1 T brown sugar
1 t ground coriander
1 t ground cumin
Pull off any stems from the figs and cut them into four slices each. Heat oil in a pan over medium heat, then sauté onions and ginger for 2 to 3 minutes. Add the remaining ingredients and let it bubble for 15 minutes. Pour into a glass jar and allow to cool, then serve with grilled meats or whatever strikes your fancy. Keeps for several weeks in the fridge—also a great gift for neighbors!
Restaurant at the Edge of the World
The Ledford House in Albion
by Karen K. Lewis
Visitors to the Ledford House Restaurant near Albion will discover fine food, friendly staff, and fantastic ocean views. The menu features something unique and delicious for every season—from California comfort food (steak and potatoes, salads, seafood) to French classics (duck pâté, cassoulet, escargot).
Wife-and-husband team Lisa and Tony Geer have been creating culinary magic on the coast since 1987, with Lisa as the chef and Tony serving as maître d’. Yet as with any unique recipe, the alchemy of this team surpasses definition. Lisa is also a visual artist and has painted colorful French-café-themed murals in the bar, and her unique and elegant textile art is displayed in the formal dining area. Tony possesses not-so-hidden talents as a baker, but more about that later.
The restaurant sits in a cliff-side meadow overlooking the ocean. From the moment guests step from their vehicles, they’re immersed in the maritime climate: briny ocean scent, oxygen-rich breeze, birdsong, and even seasonal frog song from a pond. The ocean—with moods ranging from a soft murmur to stormy crashing of waves against rocks—influences the dining experience. Even on foggy evenings, visitors may pause from real-world concerns to be nourished by the edge-of-the-world atmosphere and a hot beverage from the full bar or espresso station.
The menu here is fabulously seasonal, and the printed menu changes often. Chef Lisa dreams up daily blackboard specials, including a nightly “3-Course Bistro” menu, improvising based on what’s in season, what pleases customers, and what suppliers can deliver. “A big challenge with the pandemic has been our suppliers,” Tony admitted. One of Lisa’s specialties is a lamb shank prepared with secret herbs and served with seasonal vegetables—a dish that was sorely missed by Ledford House regulars when lamb wasn’t available for a time in 2021.
Tony explained, “We try to source locally and have a produce guy who scouts out the freshest possible ingredients. Our poultry comes from Sonoma or Marin.” Duck is a given, whether as a pâté starter, roast duck in cherry (or berry) zinfandel sauce, or layered into a popular lasagne. In mushroom season, recipes may star chanterelles, morels, or other locally foraged fungi. From the garden surrounding the restaurant, Lisa uses rosemary, thyme, mint, oregano, lavender, and nasturtium flowers.
In halibut season, Lisa creates bourride (a French fish stew); during salmon season, salmon is often a blackboard special or used in seafood pasta. Improvisation is the key to this dynamic menu, which Tony says is based on the “cassoulet concept” of using what’s available in season to produce a classic dish. Lisa calls the cuisine “the French side of California,” reflecting the essence of “all those wonderful flavors of Provence and the Mediterranean.”
Before they owned the Ledford House, Tony and Lisa ran the Morning Thunder Café in Plumas County, serving breakfast and lunch. Tony spent a year as a young child in Florence, Italy, where he became enchanted with cooking as a daily ritual. “Milk men delivered dairy fresh every day. Our housekeeper would go to market with her mesh bag, then she and my mom would use all this amazing food to prepare dinners. My mom was a great cook.” Lisa grew up in California’s farm country, outside Sacramento. “We had 14 kids in our family and lived in a field full of fresh tomatoes and other good stuff. Cooking from scratch was a given!” she said.
Tony bakes all the seeded bread and sourdough served at the restaurant, using a wood fired oven. During December, he also creates a holiday fruit bread, panettone, available by special order. Bread flour comes from a mill in Petaluma, but the recipe is inspired by Tony’s time in Italy. Surplus bread is transformed into a signature dessert: Bread Pudding Custard, with warm bourbon sauce, whipped cream, and nutmeg. The dessert menu also evolves seasonally, with rotating treats like house-made lavender gelato and seasonal fruit tarts offered alongside ever-present favorites like chocolate cake and crème brûlée. The wine list is Mendocino County-forward, with a range of options by the glass or bottle, in addition to a full cocktail bar.
One of Lisa’s passions is to brainstorm new recipe ideas. When travel is possible, The Geers close their kitchen for a couple of weeks to do food-related research in Europe. They also turn to their vintage cookbook library to fine-tune new presentations of fish, lamb, duck, or seasonal fruits and vegetables.
They enjoy creating their own traditions at Ledford House. Each year in July, Tony, Lisa, and their dedicated staff produce a special Bastille Day luncheon and pétanque tournament (a game similar to bocce), and a traditional European “Feast of the Seven Fishes” menu is created for Christmas Eve.
The Ledford House serves dinner Wednesday through Sunday. During the pandemic shutdown, they temporarily pivoted to “take-away only,” and takeaway orders are still welcome. Reservations are essential for dining, but if you’re in the area and forgot to reserve ahead, you might grab a seat at the bar or on the outdoor deck. Bundle up, since Albion weather is almost as creative as the menu.
The Ledford House Restaurant
3000 North Highway 1, Albion
(707) 937-0282 | www.LedfordHouse.com
Open Wednesday – Sunday, 4:30PM – 8:30PM
Online reservations recommended
Photos by Karen Lewis
Karen Lewis is a poet and writer who lives near Albion and cherishes this wild, inspiring place we call home.
Mendocino Cannabis Alliance
Supporting Small Farmers During Challenging Times
by Dawn Emery Ballantine
As a community, as a county, and as a magazine publication, we are concerned with our farmers. We want to know where our food comes from. We want assurances that our farmers are paid a living wage just as they provide for our sustenance. We want to know that we are not buying from large corporate farms that put smaller folks out of business. This holds true for both the food farmer and the grape farmer. Now Mendocino County has the cannabis farmer, at long last recognized to farm within the law. But these farmers are barely surviving in today’s market.
The cannabis industry struggles with not just labyrinthine legalities and usurious taxes, but also with a deep and persistent stigma. In 2016, California’s voter-approved Proposition 64 legalized cannabis cultivation, distribution, and sales with exceedingly strict regulations. The law gave the 58 California counties the right to establish their own local policies and regulations for cannabis retail, manufacturing, and cultivation, but just over half of California counties continue to refuse permits for legal cannabis businesses. After Proposition 215 supporting medical marijuana was passed in 1996, there were approximately 10,000 cannabis retailers throughout California. Today, after Proposition 64 and the newly licensed recreational market, there are only roughly 1,500 cannabis storefronts licensed in the entire state. In a population of 39.3 million covering nearly 164,000 square miles, that doesn’t amount to much.
To make matters worse, wholesale prices have plummeted. Exploring the reasons for the market collapse would require a whole series of separate articles. Suffice it to say, that collapse inspired the creation of an organization to address its impact on farmers—and the cannabis industry as a whole—in Mendocino County.
Mendocino Cannabis Alliance (MCA) aims to serve as the voice of the local cannabis community. It represents over 140 individual businesses, from the smallest cannabis cultivators to distributors and retailers. “Our mission is to serve and promote our cannabis operators through education, public policy initiatives, and sustainable economic development,” said Michael Katz, Executive Director.
MCA was created in 2019 by unifying two existing local trade associations, one focused on economic development and the other on policy advocacy. Michael was initially a board member, but he was hired as MCA’s Executive Director in November of 2020. For the first eight months, their focus was exclusively advocacy because of proposed policy changes, but their focus has since shifted to helping the local industry survive the current—and somewhat hostile—environment.
Operational licenses in Mendocino County have dropped from a high of 1,200 licenses in 2020 to fewer than 800 today. Complications of legal compliance, in addition to new cannabis cultivation in areas that previously had none, have led to product oversupply. Though Prop 64’s regulations specified a 1-acre cultivation cap per licensee for the first five years, many local jurisdictions circumvented this limit by “stacking” smaller licenses. One farm in Santa Barbara currently cultivates 5.5 million square feet of new cannabis canopy—more than 100 acres for one grower. In contrast, Mendocino County has licensed only approximately 290 acres of growth in the entire county. Michael explained, “Two or three farms in Santa Barbara produce more licensed cannabis than the entire county of Mendocino [by utilizing licensing loopholes].”
With such a huge oversupply of product, particularly in Southern California and backed by substantial corporate money and resources, the prospects look bleak for our local farmers. Once upon a time, a cannabis farmer could charge $800 to $1,200 for a pound of high quality, sun grown cannabis. That price is now down to roughly $400-500 per pound. The reality is that farmers cannot survive at that pricing.
Michael explained, “Retail is really the key to generating the revenue, the market value, of these products. And [the difficulty is] trying to figure out how to capture as much of that market share for our community as possible, given the reduced number of retailers, massive oversupply, and that we have a struggling community, financially under-resourced and challenged by the entire system and cost structure of compliance and bringing product to market.”
So the MCA brought its leadership together to create MendocinoCannabis.shop—a new venture which is perhaps the only one of its kind in the state. The idea is to utilize people and businesses within their existing licensed infrastructure to create a direct-to-consumer pipeline that would enable farmers to retain more value from each sale of their product. According to Michael, “We’re one of the only groups—if not the only group—taking this specific approach to retail as a trade association, bringing together our members’ resources and combining them to enhance the efforts of the entire community and derive value for everyone.”
It works like this: Brandy Moulton, an MCA member and CEO of Sovereign, a business in Fort Bragg, also has a licensed cannabis delivery service in Sacramento and Butte Counties, a competitive market with lots of big money cannabis businesses competing for attention. Brandy offered her license as the MendocinoCannabis.shop platform to bring other MCA members’ products to market in Sacramento. Local cannabis distributors—Mendocino Cannabis Distribution of Laytonville, Madrone from Fort Bragg, and The Bohemian Chemist in Anderson Valley—assist the project by getting product from small cannabis farms to a centralized location, where the products can be transported to Brandy’s facility for sale in the larger Sacramento market.
MendocinoCannabis.shop currently showcases over 25 craft farmers from Mendocino County, with more to be added soon. With their tagline “Cannabis with a Conscience,” the group promotes these products to people who tend to seek and purchase value-aligned products, in this case focusing on craft cannabis that is coming from small independent farms. They hope to help consumers understand the need to provide living wages to these farmers, and the way that we can do this as a broader society is by enabling them to retain the most value possible for their products.
Brandy’s own business website also features products from participating farms. The sales system which Brandy uses—Dutchie—has its own infrastructure and platform, so anyone who looks up Sacramento cannabis delivery will find each of the farms listed there as well. Customers can order from the websites, and the orders go directly through Brandy’s team for fulfillment. Most importantly, Brandy’s company only applies a 10% markup to cover the administrative costs of running the program. The farmers thus retain 90% of the pre-tax price for each product. For a $25 sale of 1/8 ounce of packaged flower including taxes, the farmer in this program is getting $17.90 per sale, or nearly $2,300 per pound. “Selling their packaged flower to other licensed shops not in the program, these farmers would be getting closer to half that price for the same product,” explained Michael.
MendocinoCannabis.shop launched in early March, 2022, after more than six months of discussion and planning. At the time of this writing, the program has shown good sales with month-to-month increases, new customers, and happy repeat customers. Perhaps equally important, they have been doing what they can to make their presence known in the broader Sacramento community. All participants contribute to a shared budget for marketing and engagement with boots-on-the-ground connections. They have recently received positive coverage in the Sacramento Bee, Cannabis Business Times, and Ganjapreneur.com, showcasing this effort as a unique response to the current market crisis.
MCA is also in conversation with retailers in other parts of the state, with the idea that curating a suite of Mendocino cannabis offerings for those outlets could also provide more of a return for our farmers. MCA continues to work as a community to try and create solutions, and Michael noted that they’re “seeing like-mindedness” among other folks looking to provide resources for the smaller farmers. One possible solution was recently introduced by Assembly Member Jim Wood, with AB 2691, which would enable small farmers to be licensed to sell directly to consumers at a limited number of events per year, in an effort to help them retain full value of their product. (This is like the farmers market model, where growers set up and sell directly from their own tables.)
MCA represents over 140 individual businesses, but the organization has just one paid staff member—Michael Katz. Though they do have a number of dedicated volunteers who staff the board and various committees, their goal is to bring in more local cannabis community members to support the efforts for policy and market access. As Michael shared, “We really are stronger together … With all the challenges in the market and the diminishing resources, we really do need more support from the community and from any quarter we can find it in to continue our efforts.”
MCA would also love to bring on local non-cannabis businesses who are interested in sponsoring and supporting the local cannabis community. Michael said, “I’m cautiously optimistic about the future … We operate in the best interest of our members, which is the best interest of the broader cannabis industry in Mendocino county.”
Michael’s ultimate vision is to see Ukiah, Laytonville, and Willits become like “the Napa Valley for cannabis” over the coming decades. But he believes the groundwork has to be laid now, with concerted efforts made to ensure that operators survive the licensing process, giving them the time and support to find financial stability and create a strong infrastructure. The opportunities for cannabis tourism are abundant here like nowhere else, and MCA has recently collaborated with Visit Mendocino County, producing a video which came out in early June. Michael believes that this collaboration is the beginning of many and bodes well for the future of people and entities working together to recognize the value cannabis can provide to our community.
The small cannabis farmers in Mendocino County are here, trying to do the right thing under the new laws. Current economic hurdles are huge and are threatening their survival. Given the world we live in, thoughtful people have taken on the challenge of addressing inequities and overcoming prejudices and stigma for the good of our cannabis farmers and for Mendocino’s economy as a whole.
A Brief History of Cannabis in California
1795 Cannabis cultivated for fiber and rope in California. Two-thirds of it is grown on the missions.
1807 California produces 13,000 lbs of hemp, increasing by 1810 to 220,000 lbs grown.
1895 Cannabis grown in California for recreational use, reportedly by Arabs, “Hindoos,” Armenians, and Turks as hashish.
1913 Possession prohibited as part of the general prohibition act for alcohol.
1914 One of the first cannabis drug raids occurs in the Los Angeles area.
1925 Possession punishable by up to 6 years in prison.
1937 Cultivation becomes a separate offense.
1954 Harsher sentences put in place, including a minimum 1-10 years in prison for marijuana possession and 5 -15 years with a mandatory 3 years before eligibility for parole for selling. Life imprisonment allowed for people with two prior felonies.
1960s Legalization efforts begin.
1972 California is the first state to try to legalize cannabis by the ballot initiative Proposition 19, which is defeated.
1991 San Francisco Proposition P requests California legislature to legalize medical marijuana.
1993 California legislature makes joint resolutions requesting the Federal government to legalize medical marijuana.
1996 California is the first state to enact a medical marijuana law—the Compassionate Use Act, Proposition 215—which makes it legal for people and their caregivers to grow and possess cannabis for their own personal medical use with physician approval. Includes edibles, hashish, and concentrates. Transportation later included (SB420) as well as the establishment of medical cultivation cooperatives. Cannabis for medical use is not subject to CA sales tax.
2010 Proposition 19 introduced again to legalize cannabis, and again defeated.
2010 79% of US cannabis comes from California.
2016 Proposition 64 legalizes the possession and cultivation of cannabis for adult (over age 21) recreational use and reduces criminal penalties by authorizing dismissal or re-sentencing of existing cases of marijuana-related convictions.
Today “... the FDA and DEA have concluded that marijuana has no federally approved medical use for treatment in the U.S. and thus it remains as a Schedule I controlled substance under federal law.”
Visit The Shop online at www.MendocinoCannabis.shop
MCA can be found at www.MendoCannabis.com.
All photos courtesy of Mendocino Cannabis Alliance
Hoop Houses
Extending Growing Seasons and Crop Options for Farmers
by Lisa Ludwigsen
Perhaps you’ve noticed them while driving past a stretch of farmland—large structures covered with heavy-duty plastic. Hoop houses, also known as high tunnels, have become a popular alternative to traditional greenhouses, which utilize traditional glass or plexiglass panels. Whereas greenhouses are typically used to grow food or plants in pots or raised containers, the lightweight tubular construction of hoop houses offers more affordable and flexible options for growing food directly in the ground. A relatively low-tech tool to extend the growing season and provide a more secure local food supply for small farms, hoop houses are proving to be a real game-changer.
Small-scale farmers, homesteaders, and even backyard gardeners across the country, in all climates, are installing hoop houses to increase productivity and expand their selection of crops. Large models can cover as much as 6,000 square feet, accommodating a tractor inside to till the soil. Smaller models can be fit into tight spaces and disassembled or relocated to allow flexibility of planting schedules and land use.
Imagine harvesting baby lettuce and spinach from the ground when the temperature outside is 10°F and snow covers the ground. With a little assistance from a wood stove or propane heater, heated hoop houses can allow cold-climate farmers to grow food in the ground year-round. Even without a heating element, they are effective growing season extenders, helping farmers in all types of climates get both an early start and more time to grow into the fall and winter months.
In traditional organic farming, seeds or seedlings are planted in the field as soon as the last frost has passed and the soil is not overly wet. Depending on location, that last frost could be April 1 or even May 30 in some areas. The growing season continues until the first hard frost, which kills most annual crops. In Northern California, a killing frost typically occurs in late November. At season’s end, fields are either planted with cover crops to provide soil nourishment over the winter, or they are left fallow. The farmer then moves on to winter projects like infrastructure work or planning for the following year. So goes the cycle of farming.
Getting a few weeks’ jump on the growing season can mean a significant financial boost for small farms. This is where hoop houses really shine. Mendocino County’s cool, wet springs can often prevent farmers from getting crops into the ground, because working in wet soil can severely damage soil structure, often with long-lasting consequences. A large hoop house allows row crops to get into the ground early, and controlling the temperature inside gives the plants a comfortable, healthy start. As the season progresses, the hoop house sides can be lifted to allow adequate air flow and temperature control. Hoop houses also provide protection from environmental factors like damaging hail or high winds (though severe weather can damage the house).
With an average summer temperature of just 65°F, the Mendocino coast has its own, rather unique, agricultural challenges. Though cool weather crops like lettuces or brassicas thrive in a cool coastal climate, growing tomatoes or other heat-loving summer crops presents considerable hurdles. Nye Ranch in Fort Bragg utilizes hoop houses to grow summer crops and flowers for their popular farm stand and farmers market customers. Hoop houses deliver reliably warm temperatures and help control moisture which can promote blight, mold, and other unpleasant plant diseases.
“We couldn’t grow tomatoes on the coast without the hoop houses” said Shea Burns, owner of Nye Ranch. “They don’t like the direct salt air.” The covered arches also protect against the late rains. “This year, because of the protection these provide, we were able to beat the inland farms to market with the first tomatoes,” Shea elaborated. “We also grow bell peppers and basil in ours.”
They even have one one hoop house used as an “experimental tunnel.” Shea explained, “We’ve been growing flowers in that one. The late rains damaged many of the blossoms that were growing outside the hoop house, but those inside were protected. [The hoop houses] allow us to overwinter some crops while planting the rest in a cover crop to renew the soil.”
Just a few miles inland as the crow flies, farms deal with different weather extremes, as summer temperatures regularly reach into the high 90s and hard frosts can occur even in late spring. Jessie Taaning-Sanchez of Inland Ranch in Redwood Valley says that the hoop house she borrowed from another farmer allowed her to stay ahead of the game at the start of the growing season. “I have my tomatoes started under the hoop house and so I got a head start even when a hard frost hit in late April. This was easy to pop up and get my plants in.” Later in the season, when the temperatures rise, shade cloth can replace the plastic, or the plastic can be removed entirely.
Chris Duke, owner of Great Oak Farm in Mason, Wisconsin, utilizes a collection of hoop houses to keep his 40-acre farm productive all year. “We start seedlings inside our small greenhouse in early spring and then plant directly into the ground in our large houses,” he shared. Planting in hoop houses allows Duke to grow tomatoes, cucumbers, and peppers in a very short growing season, as well as harvest some crops in the dead of winter. “We can get into trouble if there is too much wind or if heavy snow accumulates along the edges of the hoop house, but in general they are a great assist in our cold northern climate,” he explained. Duke’s farm supplies a year-round CSA based in Wiscon-si’s Bayfield and Ashland counties. In winter, the CSA relies on stored staple crops like beets, potatoes, onions, carrots, as well as frozen meats and value-added products, but fresh produce is a big bonus for those supporting local agriculture all year. Duke added, “We also really value our employees and want to keep them on the payroll, so we don’t want to shut down production in the winter. The hoop houses keep us going.” Northern California farmers rarely deal with the drastically cold conditions found in far northern climes, but Mendocino County’s wildly variable geography presents its own challenges, and local farmers are also seeing the benefits of hoop house farming.
Of course, there are a few concerns about hoop houses. Primarily, that’s a lot of plastic, and when it breaks down, disposal is difficult. Another concern is that insect infestation, once established in a closed hoop house system, needs to be addressed quickly.
The USDA has recognized the effectiveness of hoop houses on small farms. They are offering grants through the Natural Resources Conservation Services program, with the focus of the grants on soil health and erosion prevention. Planting directly into the soil is a requirement, which is perfect for the design and function of hoop houses.
Supporting a network of small food producers at a national level is an encouraging development for the stability of regional food supplies. For anyone interested in building a high tunnel/hoop house—even backyard gardeners—YouTube is filled with firsthand stories and advice. Or take a drive around Mendocino County and check out the hoop houses in use. They’re hard to miss, and though they’re not particularly lovely, they will help provide us with farm-fresh produce well outside of the traditional growing season.
Top article photo courtesy of Nye Ranch. Additional photos by Lisa Ludwigsen.
Lisa Ludwigsen is a writer and marketer working with food, farms, and family small businesses throughout Northern California. She has worked in organic agriculture, natural foods, and environmental education for over 20 years.
La Buena Michoacana
Sweetness on a Stick
by Dawn Emery Ballantine
The small town of Tocumbo in Michoacán, Mexico, is the legendary birthplace of the paleta—frozen, refreshing sweetness on a stick (think a popsicle but so much better). One of Michoacan’s primary crops is sugar cane, and the combination of sugar with fresh fruit into paletas became a craze in the early 1940s that took on a life of its own. Most paletería businesses pay homage to their birthplace by using “Michoacana” somewhere in their moniker (which has lately grown legally contentious). Our very own local success story is La Buena Michoacana in Ukiah, owned and operated by Liz Echeverría and her husband, Luciano Mendoza.
From the time he was a small boy, Luciano dreamed of owning his own paletería. It wasn’t Liz’s dream initially, yet it has become her happy reality in a way that has surprised her, and now she can’t imagine doing anything else. The paletas are often visual works of art, and the flavors range from tried-and-true classics to unheard-of combinations. La Buena Michoacana offers 54 flavors, including non-dairy fruit paletas made with mamey, guabana, graviola, and mango-tamarind-chile, as well as dairy-based ice cream flavors such as coffee, eggnog, rosepetal, and caramel. New batches are hand-mixed and prepared weekly by Liz and Luciano, and they occasionally dream up new combinations to keep their line-up fresh and exciting. Their menu has expanded to include other items such as fruit bowls, aguas frescas, elote (corn on the cob), snack bowls, and a personal favorite, fresas con crema (strawberries with fresh cream).
Liz and Luciano both grew up in La Laguneta, Tocumbo. The town is small, its economy rooted in agriculture and ranching, and education there stops at 6th grade. When Liz was young, her father emigrated to Boonville, finding work in the logging industry until he was able to get his family’s legal paperwork in order to bring them to California. Liz was 16 when she arrived with her family, and soon found herself placed in the 10th grade class at Anderson Valley High School, despite speaking no English and having only completed 6th grade. But Liz and her family are hard workers, and that, in combination with the strong support of her teachers, enabled Liz to graduate high school in only three years, just before she turned 20. “I was the oldest kid in my class,” she laughed. Luciano had followed Liz to Boonville, where he found work at Navarro Vineyards, and they were married when Liz was 18. She attended Mendocino Community College and achieved her A.A. in Business, working for the next 11 years in the office of Anderson Valley Elementary School.
In late November of 2014, Liz and Luciano began to seriously consider Luciano’s dream of opening their own paletería. Relatives in Santa Maria, California had their own shop, so they traveled down to spend a week with them to learn the ropes. Luciano and Liz learned existing recipes as well as how to develop their own, and within six months, La Buena Michoacana opened its doors in Ukiah in the former Coldstone Creamery space. According to Liz, this greatly simplified the opening process, as most of Coldstone’s storefront setup remained. But they took out no loans or financing, and, on the day they opened for business, Liz remembered, “We had only $300 left in our bank account.” Their Santa Maria relatives came to help out for the grand opening during its first week. Happily, La Buena Michoacana was an instant hit.
Liz and Luciano manage almost every aspect of their business, with Liz handling administration and Luciano dealing with the day-to-day repairs and maintenance of the machines and premises. In 2017 they added a new facility in north Ukiah. After substantial renovation, which they completed themselves, they had created a new headquarters for paletas production.
They have always sourced their fruit from Andy’s Produce, a long-time family-owned produce company in Sebastopol which buys primarily from local farmers. Their fruit demands are year-round, and even though the prices wildly fluctuate (summer strawberries are $19/flat and $55/flat in winter) they keep their product prices steady at $3.00 per paleta. In an effort to keep their costs affordable for their customers, La Buena Michoacana does not use organic produce, but they do make every effort to keep their products local and “natural,” using no preservatives. Their fruit paletas consist of only fruit, sugar, and some water. Though Liz doesn’t go so far as to call them “healthy,” they are still a far better choice than many similar items on the market, as many other paleterías offer products that contain artificial fruit flavors and colors, as well as inferior sweeteners.
In addition to the two storefronts, La Buena Michoacana provides food for local events, regularly providing fresh fruit bowls for gatherings at Adventist Hospital. They create ice cream cakes and mini-popsicles for community events and private parties, and they have recently acquired a mobile paletería freezer—a popsicle pushcart—which is available for rent.
La Buena Michoacana is open year-round, employing eight people in the summer and scaling back to four employees in the slower winter months. Though their early days saw them working from 6am to 11pm, Liz said that she and Luciano now have a more manageable work life, with most weekends off and time for the family. Their 16-year-old son is just beginning to help with the business, and so far, he seems to enjoy it. Though they would eventually like to expand to another city or two in Mendocino County, for now, they are content with what they have built with their savings, their sweat, the support of their families, and their own hands. It’s a sweet life, and well deserved.
A Sampling of Flavors
On a hot, sunny Saturday, I drove to Ukiah to sample some of La Buena Michoacana’s 54 flavors. Seated at one of their outdoor tables, in the only sliver of shade to be found, I sampled a few flavors of each of the ice creams and paletas. The staff person was very friendly and knowledgeable about the makeup of each of the offerings.
I was very pleased to note that La Buena Michoacana utilizes World Centric products in their packaging. Every compostable cup and/or spoon makes a difference.
First, the ICE CREAMS. I haven’t had a dairy-based ice cream in a couple of years, but anything for the article!
Tequila. For real. An initial hit of tequila flavor that melds into a cold, smooth, creamy deliciousness.
Fresas con crema. I’m a sucker for all things strawberry, and strawberries and cream are one of my favorite treats. The sunny sweet flavor of strawberry is buoyed by the sweet cream base. Cold and sweet and full of strawberry flavor.
Mexican chocolate. Smooth, creamy chocolate with an undercurrent of cinnamon, sweet and subtle, making me want more.
Next up, PALETAS. These run the gamut of bases—dairy, coconut water, juices, and water. They are beautiful, with big chunks of fruit delighting eyes and tastebuds alike.
Passionfruit. This was my personal favorite. A water/fruit base, it was icy, tart, sweet, and crunchy with passionfruit seeds. It was delicious and refreshing with a lovely staying power.
Tropical Fruit. Made from a coconut water base, this paleta was full of chunks of kiwi, peaches, strawberry, pineapple, mango. Sweeter than the passionfruit but still enjoyable.
Fresh Fruit. This paleta is dairy-based, quite a bit sweeter, with chunks of strawberry, peaches, and grapes. Like a fruit ice cream on a stick.
La Buena Michoacana is a treat, especially in the hot days of late summer / early autumn.
Two locations in Ukiah make it even easier to find a cold, sweet treat. Or better yet, rent their paleta handtruck for your event, and sample all the flavors provided.
La Buena Michoacana
1252 Airport Park Blvd in the plaza behind Tractor Supply
(707) 467-1100 | 12PM - 8PM
1311 N. State Street in the Raley’s plaza
(707) 621-9336 | Mon - Thu 12PM - 8:30PM, Fri - Sun 12PM - 9PM
facebook.com/buenamichoacana
Store and passionfruit paleta photos by Dawn Emery Ballantine.
All other photos courtesy of La Buena Michoacana.
Dawn Emery Ballantine lives in Anderson Valley where she sells books at her tiny bookshop Hedgehog Books, edits this magazine, and disappears into the pages of a well-written story whenever time allows (and sometimes when it doesn’t).
Meadow Farm Community Land Trust
Growing Food and Building Community
by D. H. Shook
Nestled against the forest just outside of Fort Bragg sits the Meadow Farm Community Land Trust, founded as a non-profit 501(c)(3) intentional community in 2013 by the late Joanna Becker. Joanna purchased the 28-acre property in 2010 and decided to form her new home into a non-profit land trust, dedicated in perpetuity to community enhancement. Joanna’s vision was to provide a place for people to live, one not based on a level of affluence but instead on a love of the land and willingness to participate in a cooperative gardening community. It was created to be a place to welcome those at risk and those who want to be a part of a sustainable community. As a non-profit land trust, Meadow Farm is under the guidance of a board of directors that still maintains these tenets. Meadow Farm Community remains open to new ideas and moves forward with their vision to be a dynamic, positive force for self-sufficiency, environmental awareness, and social change.
On a glorious June day, Sojourna Lee raced up on her bicycle to greet me, with two eager dogs in tow and ready for a tour of the garden and orchard. Sojourna is a resident and Secretary of the Board at Meadow Farm Community Land Trust since 2014. She administers the daily activities of the farm and connects visitors, volunteers, and residents with the overarching vision and mission of the non-profit. Her infectious smile and easy way were instantly welcoming.
The first stop on the tour was the common house, a classic Mendocino-style building that serves as a communal kitchen and gathering place. We enjoyed a drink of excellent well water as we listened to the story of Joanna Becker and her vision for Meadow Farm. As the story began to unfold, Sojourna explained the community’s ethos: “We are all in this together, same boat, same planet. It is time we learn to work together. We all have different ideas about things, so we had to develop a decision making process. Building and maintaining this community has been a long ride on the learning curve.”
Meadow Farm is a permanent home for just four people at this time, though there are hopes for more folks to find their home there. Meadow Farm operates on a shoe-string budget, with donations and volunteer help providing signif-icant support. Dozens of volunteers from Americorp and Workaways, as well as local volunteers, have contributed and been welcomed. Right now there are five volunteers in residence who stay in cabins and share an outdoor kitchen and hang-out spot. When COVID-19 hit, projects around the world were suspended, and as a result, both a volunteer who had been in Nepal with the Peace Corp and an Outward Bound leader in training found their ways to Meadow Farm and became resident volunteers there.
Above the house, a young dwarf fruit and nut orchard overlooks the fenced one-acre garden and greenhouse that is the heart of Meadow Farm. Gardens are always a work in progress, and this one is no exception. The asparagus beds and artichoke baskets have been lined with hardware cloth to discourage the pesky gophers. An experimental patch of quinoa is maturing. Borage and nasturtium blossoms in vibrant blue and orange are slated to adorn the plates at local restaurants. Baby beets, okra, and sunflowers are just getting started, while the lettuce is at its peak for the summer. There will be days of canning in the big kitchen this fall.
Along the northern border of the garden, a hedgerow has recently been planted. An old farming tradition that is finding its way back into the modern lexicon of gardening, a hedgerow serves as habitat to pollinators and birds. Looking outside the fenced garden, a soil-enriching cover-crop of mixed grasses and legumes, planted with help from Americorp volunteers, is thriving. The two dogs chase away a curious deer while a bird swoops in to snatch a strawberry. All is well in the garden.
Honoring the community spirit tenets, Meadow Farm regularly donates fresh produce from the garden to the Fort Bragg Food Bank. Amanda Friscia, Executive Director of the Fort Bragg Food Bank, enthusiastically attested, “Meadow Farm is one of our best sources of local produce.” Last year, they donated around 1,500 pounds of produce.
There are multiple ongoing projects at Meadow Farm. A little house (16’ x 24’) has gotten a solid start through donations, and the buildings and cabins are all off-grid systems that require regular upkeep and maintenance. Sojourna is collaborating with a forester to label trees and plants on their forest trail for educational purposes. Robert Deutch, another board member, mentioned their ongoing commitment to soil and land stewardship, citing an HSP (Healthy Soil Program) grant that was awarded and applied to a soil restoration project on the land three years ago.
The farm also contributes to the Community Emergency Response Project. Sojourna, a retired RN, explained that the remote nature of the Mendocino Coast impacts its connection to the supply chain by very twisty roads, all with multiple bridges, making mutual aid in case of emergency a necessity. With this in mind, the Meadow Farm Community Emergency Response Project is collecting first aid supplies, sleeping bags, and cots to have on hand in case they are needed. In the past summer of fires, Meadow Farm served as a sanctuary for fire and smoke refugees. The Meadow Farm Emergency Response Project has joined the Hubs and Routes network, which is a Mendocino-based group that provides maps and information pertinent to emergency situations.
All of these projects reflect the organization’s overarching goal of building community. Community is something of a buzzword recently, as so many of us cast an eye towards the echo of a more simple time. When it comes to the goals of living sustainably, working together, and practicing responsible land-stewardship, the folks at Meadow Farm walk the talk. This is how we change the world. One farm at a time.
Find out more at MeadowFarm.org. The organization is currently seeking board members.
Garden with greenhouse photo by Clara Shook. Other photos courtesy of Meadow Farm.
A long-time Mendonesian, Deborah Shook lives in a cottage on the edge of the forest. She takes pleasure playing in her garden and tackling a culinary challenge.
Discovery You Can Taste
Minus Tide Makes Wine with a Coastal, Community Focus
by Thom Elkjer
When the moon pulls the ocean farthest from shore, the result is known as a “minus tide,” because nature is revealing, not concealing. Tide pools, kelp gardens, shellfish colonies, and other wonders appear and delight us. Minus Tide Wines recreates that experience in a glass, revealing the flavors of hidden vineyards tucked into expressive microclimates in Mendocino County—from sun-baked inland valleys to wind-blown coastal ridges.
Minus Tide’s founders were college students when they met in the coastal town of San Luis Obispo in 2007. Kyle Jeffrey and Brad Jonas were studying winemaking and wine-growing, while Miriam Pitt was studying tourism and wine marketing. Though they dreamed of launching a winery one day, they parted ways at graduation, keeping in touch while becoming professionals in their fields. One fateful day in 2017, they met for lunch at the Inn at School-house Creek near Mendocino village where Brad grew up. “We walked in with our old dream of launching a winery,” he recalls, “but this time we came out with a plan.”
They based their winery in Anderson Valley, where Brad and Miriam lived together, hosting Kyle on his frequent visits from San Francisco or Los Angeles, where he was honing his skills in wine sales. Without deep pockets or their own vineyards, they scoured Mendocino for great grapes at affordable prices, rented space at Toulouse Vineyards to make their wine, and then focused sales on local outlets and restaurants in the Bay Area and L.A.
The Minus Tide philosophy is about finding choice vineyards, not vinifying specific grape varieties. The lesser-known Carignan variety was an early hit, coming from the inland area of Feliz Creek. It makes both red wine and rosé. Syrah, Chardonnay, and Pinot Noir soon joined the lineup, sourced from vineyards on the western ridges above Anderson Valley. Flavors are ripe yet alcohols are refreshingly low. The winery tends to cellar its reds longer than other producers, so the wine is more integrated and refined on release.
Production is still small at under 1,000 cases, yet Minus Tide has quickly gained an outsized reputation among local restaurants and wine sellers. “It’s our top-selling wine brand,” says Wendy Lamer, proprietor of Boonville gourmet retailer Disco Ranch. “The wine is great on its own and amazing with food.” Major wine critics are now spreading the word, recommending the wines to international audiences.
Surviving, let alone succeeding, as a small winery is more easily said than done, but Minus Tide’s team brings optimism, energy, and strong alignment to their shared passion. “We all agreed that being part of the local food and wine community was important to us,” Miriam explains. “Obviously we need to sell far and wide, but we wanted our friends, visitors, and local businesses to be able to taste and pour our wines.”
The founders also aligned around the foundation of their enterprise: exceptional vineyards. “We want to have so much confidence in the grapes we get that we can do one of the hardest things for a winemaker—which is doing very little,” Kyle explains. “That’s why we focus on vineyards where the flavors and balance are grown right into the fruit.”
That light-touch winemaking Kyle refers to is evident in the wines, which offer the silky textures and bright acids that make wine a natural match for food. These qualities explain why so many Mendocino restaurants offer Minus Tide wines: the Carignan rosé, for example, pairs as well with a robust carnitas tostada as it does with a delicately poached fish. Restaurants also appreciate the responsive service from the winery. “We don’t have a tasting room,” Miriam points out, “so we go out of our way to keep our local purveyors well stocked.”
All this hard work and hustle takes time, which is why people are routinely surprised to discover that all three founders have day jobs. Kyle is winemaker for San Francis-co-based Woods Beer & Wine Co., Brad is assistant winemaker at Toulouse Vineyards in Philo, and Miriam—who designed and illustrated the wine labels—works for Berkeley-based J.A.M. Public Relations.
“We give up personal time for Minus Tide,” Kyle admits, “but this is how we express ourselves artistically. This is how we show people how great the wine from Mendocino can be.” The team also believes that they don’t need to own a lot of infrastructure if they have a strong, supportive community. “We have great relation-ships with our growers,” Brad says. “We are so fortunate and grateful that we can make our wine at Toulouse. Our suppliers and customers really want us to succeed. The word of mouth has been incredible.”
Like healthy grapevines, the Minus Tide team has continued to sink deeper roots. Brad and Miriam married up on Navarro Ridge in 2019 and bought a house in Boonville in 2021. Their son, Luca, will celebrate his first birthday in November. Kyle can be spotted playing disc golf with friends and pouring at local events. With every passing month, more people discover the meaning of “minus tide” from the winery that lives up to its name.
Find out more at MinusTideWines.com.
Photos by Mary Zeeble.
Thom Elkjer has been writing and teaching about wine for more than 25 years. He wrote this story under a loggia in Boonville shaded by Muscat vines.
Cordage
An Ancient Craft Utilizing Old Fabrics and Locally Available Plants
by Lisa Ludwigsen
If you have ever been fortunate enough to handle a strand of handmade string or rope, you may have recognized the uniqueness of it, the special way that the uniform tightness of the twist perpetually holds the fibers of the raw material. Somehow, individual fibers join to create something exponentially stronger, illustrating the powerful idea of “stronger together.” The craft is known as cordage, and humans have made and used it for 50,000 years.
Cordage has allowed humans to create items as durable as fishing nets, and to craft a strand of string both thin and strong enough to hold the tension of an arrow set into a hunting bow. Multi-ply ropes, made entirely by hand from plants, were used to rig seagoing ships.
Artist Saoirse Byrne explained that, at its core, “Cordage is the process of taking relatively weak and short fibers and twisting them into a new, strong length.” Local wilderness skills teacher Tamara Wilder and workshops at the annual Buckeye Gathering helped Saoirse hone her skills and better understand the importance and flexibility of cordage. Traditionally, making cordage from plants is both labor- and time-intensive. Like baskets made by native people, plants are gathered or harvested at the right time of year, then processed and stored properly in order to render strong and pliable material.
Traditionally, dogbane was the cordage fiber plant of choice. It has been called Indian Hemp and praised for its strength and luster. From thinner twines to larger ropes, dogbane and other plants including nettle, wild iris, and tulle, have been tended, harvested, and processed into nets, bags, mats, and lengths for tying or carrying. Many plants that are abundant in our gardens and roadsides will readily make cordage. The leftover dried leaves of narcissus when moistened can be a fun place to start experimenting.
Saoirse explained, “Cordage is essentially taking two lengths of fibers and twisting them independently in one direction and then twisting them together in the opposite direction. It is this initial twist and reverse that locks the fibers into place.” She added, “Applying this principle to materials that we have in abundance around us such as the plastic bags, the worn clothes, the garden trimmings can yield interesting, useful, and potentially beautiful results.”
Saoirse sees deep beauty in those utilitarian lengths of intertwined plants. She also sees art. And storytelling. And healing.
Based in Anderson Valley, Saoirse has combined her study of traditional uses of plants with a BFA in Fashion Design from Rhode Island School of Design and an MBA in Sustainability from Presidio World College to create an art practice and to nourish a passion for teaching all ages how to make cordage from various materials. Old t-shirts, cast-off fabrics, and special heirloom fabrics that are ready for a new purpose can all be transformed into something new.
“I love sharing a process that is tens of thousands of years old and using it to transform the materials that we have in abundance around us,” Saoirse confided. “There is a magic in taking something that has been used in one form and transforming it into something else entirely.”
There are ways to create useful and practical cordage that hold their own story or memory. “I take fabrics that hold memory and meaning and transform them into objects that can be used and worn—a decades-old sweatshirt from a first summer job turned into a dopp kit, or a great-grandmother’s handkerchief turned into a cordage necklace. It is a process of honoring continuation and story.” Saoirse also ventures into unusual plants for cordage—seaweed and even apple peels are fair game for cordage experiments.
The process is soothing, like other types of handiwork such as knitting, spinning, or sewing, and can be accomplished at any age. Even small children can appreciate the ability to make something utilitarian with their own hands. In fact, Saoirse has taught children as young as four how to make cordage from materials like baling twine or plastic bags.
Saoirse’s Instagram page, @linneage_of, covers the range of uses of cordage. From ancient Egyptian carvings featuring multi-ply rope to a new dog leash fashioned from an old blue t-shirt, Saoirse’s collection of photos illustrates that cordage is abundantly around us every day. On her website, Saoirse explains, “Transforming an existing item like a t-shirt into cordage starts with the tearing apart. I am exploring what we hold onto, what I hold onto, and how to let go. Then the old form is transformed into something new. I try my best to listen. I create time for the making. It is in the detail and quality of fine craftsmanship and the wildness of raw material that I seek the balance.”
Working with plants in any form is rewarding, and delving into the skill and art of cordage can enhance our connection to nature in new and inspiring ways. Look around and you’ll find a plentitude of potential cordage materials. Dive in and you may be surprised where the new skill leads you.
Photo of Saoirse Byrne by Sean Foley. Photo of leash by Saoirse Byrne. Photo of kids’ activity by Seasha Robb.
Saoirse will be offering classes for children and adults this fall. Check her website, www.SaoirseByrne.com, for details.
Brewing Beer on the Futaleufú
Building a Micro-Brewery at a River Rafting Camp in Chile
by Jakob Foley
The Futaleufú River is one of the best Class V rivers in the world. If you’re a kayaker, big water rafter, or even an avid fly fisher, you probably know of it. Being none of those things, I had never heard of it until I agreed, in a fit of adventure-seeking and likely influenced by a few beers, to go there to start up a brewery. Tucked away in the northwest corner of Chilean Patagonia, where the tops of the Andes exceed 6,500 feet, Futaleufú (the town and the river) are a 12-hour drive, including three ferry rides, from the nearest commercial airline destination in Chile. Located 15.5 miles outside of town, right on the river, is a camp run by Bio Bio Expeditions. It was through meeting one of the owners, Lorenzo, in the summer of 2013 that I found myself leaving a rather comfortable life doing IT work in Truckee to brew beer 9,000 miles away.
In all fairness, this wasn’t entirely a spur of the moment, beer-fueled decision. For months prior, not only had I been wanting to travel more, but I’d been more seriously entertaining the pipe dream of opening my own brewery. So when Lorenzo suggested I come down and start a brewery at camp for him, it seemed like an opportunity that I shouldn’t pass up.
Lorenzo had always wanted the camp to brew its own beer, in part because he wasn’t a fan of the mass market beers available down there and in part because he wanted to cut back on waste. There is a limited recycling program in Chile, so over the years the cans and bottles had really piled up, and the brewery was at least a partial solution to reducing waste. He asked me to come down, bringing equipment from the States that we would supplement with whatever we could find in Chile, and brew beer for a season (December to March, the South American summer, is their rafting/kayaking/fishing season).
I left in mid-December 2013, dragging along 50 pounds of clothing and gear and another 50 pounds of equipment and brewing ingredients, including hops (which I worried would be seized at customs). Three commercial flights and 12 hours of bus rides later, I found myself, with all my stuff miraculously intact, in one of the most beautiful river valleys I’d ever seen.
The river is less than 1,000 feet wide in some places, and 4,000' ridges rise directly up on either side, while 6,000' glacier-capped peaks jut out just beyond. Just north of the Magellenic temperate rainforest, year-round rain and snow keep the slopes below the snow brilliantly green. Even the grasses on the valley floor never seem to turn brown. Small farms are scattered about the valley, a legacy of early 20th century efforts by the Chilean government to consolidate its territorial claim by clearing the forest and sending its citizens there to homestead.
Of course, the main attraction is the river. The Futaleufú (“Big River” in the language of the indigenous Mapuche) starts in Argentina, but the fun begins in Chile, just outside of the town of Futaleufú. Boosted by major tributaries, there are 26 miles of Class III, IV, and V rapids before the river empties into Lago Yelcho. For rafters and kayakers, it is some of the most exciting white water on the planet, and for fly fishers, it is one of the few places where you can fish a section of flat water all morning, then pack up and run a Class V rapid to get to the next fishing hole.
It was in this amazing environment that I was lucky enough to set up my first brewery—Fubrew. I started out in the boat barn, a large open-sided structure that held rafts, bikes, and kayaks. It took many wheelbarrows filled with rocks from the unpaved main road to get me and my equipment out of the mud, but by Christmas I was brewing my first 5-gallon batches, and by mid-January I was trying to figure out how to get 10- gallon batches out of the tiny 12-gallon brew setup I’d started with.
It was the first batch of stout out of this tiny system that really got Fubrew’s reputation started. An imperial stout that checked in at 8.5%, it was the strongest I’d brewed to date. I released it one evening in the middle of a 5 day stretch of cold rain, and the staff and most of the guests promptly started putting away pints of the stuff. Toward the end of the night, the camp chef decided to drive himself up the hill to the cabins for internet access. After getting one truck stuck in the mud, he then jumped in an old Nissan pickup and made it up the hill. An hour later, one of the guides, who had walked up from the bar, decided to take it back down to camp for him, but failed to negotiate the sharp turn at the bottom of the driveway and rolled the truck over a small embankment. He was fine, but the truck landed upside down in some thick brush. All of the trucks at camp had names, and that Nissan was named “Felix.” And so, in recognition of the stout’s contribution to the incident, it was thereafter known as “Felix Stout,” available today in Willits at Northspur Brewing.
My first season in Patagonia ended up being the first of five trips there. We constructed a building and patio for the brewery and expanded every season except for season four, when the local police decided we were selling illegally outside of camp (we weren’t) and confis-cated some of our equipment along with full kegs of beer. I spent most of the rest of that season brewing on the deck of a small cabin hidden away up the hill from camp and well away from the main road. In season five, we finally received our commercial license and started selling West Coast-style IPAs to town and to other resorts in the area. But by then, my wife (whom I met in camp my first season there) and I had already started the paperwork for what would become Northspur Brewing in Willits.
In November of 2017, at the Mendocino Homebrewfest in Ukiah, my wife and I met Greta and Chris from the Book Juggler in Willits. They were interested in getting a brewery in Willits and knew a property owner who wanted one as well, so by the time I left for Chile that season, Northspur Brewing was already beginning to take shape. Between that build-out and COVID, I didn’t make it back to Chile until this past January.
The brewery is still there, and I spent just about every waking minute of my short trip brewing beer, rafting the Fu, and sitting at the riverside camp bar looking out over the blue glacier melt rushing past below me. I also had a little time to reflect on all the pieces from my seasons in Chile that got me to Northspur Brewing. From figuring out how to shift my life and career from IT to brewing, to the experience that comes from five or six brew sessions a week, to brewing in a difficult environment (water system failures, limited hardware supplies, broken equipment, sheep raiding our malt stash, and plenty more), to meeting the woman I’d be lucky enough to marry, I will be forever grateful to the mighty Fu and the valley it calls home.
Sample the brewing talents of Jakob Foley at:
Northspur Brewing
101 N Main St, Willits
(707) 518-4208 | NorthspurBrewing.com
Open Tues & Wed 3 -9PM, Thurs 3 - 10PM, Fri & Sat 10 - 2PM, Sun 12 - 9PM
Photos courtesy of Jakob Foley
Jakob Foley is the brewer at Northspur Brewing Co. in Willits, a harebrained venture he started with his wife, Sarah, in 2019. When not brewing or drowning in brewery chaos, Jakob can be found brewing and drowning in brewery chaos.
Living with Lions
Predators are Essential for Ecosystems in Balance
by Gowan Batist
I was awake at 5am, feeding thin sticks into my newly kindled fire, when my phone pinged. My neighbor was asking for help. A mountain lion had attacked their goats, and they wanted to know if I could bring my medical bag. I headed out the door and walked through the blue predawn to their goat pen, a tidy low corral made of pallets lashed together. The lion had reached through the slats and injured two baby goats, both of which were bawling loudly into the otherwise still morning. They had seen the lion hurry away into the brush when they ran out to respond to the goat’s cries. What wasn’t immediately obvious was that the mountain lion hadn’t actually left the area. As my neighbor cradled the injured baby goat, a loud aggrieved feline complaint came from the direction of the nearby creek bed.
I swung my flashlight around and caught the reflective discs of the lion’s eyes, huge and staring directly at me, the source of the annoying light. I stepped in front of my friend, who smelled of blood and whose arms were emitting the sounds of a small injured animal. The lion was so close. Too close. A mountain lion who does not have the room to feel safe turning their back to run will often present a confrontational front, and this juvenile was no exception. They were making all the displays of an angry house cat, but on a large scale. What we should have done was slowly increase our distance while shouting and throwing things. However, with our backs against the corral, and the lion’s back against the bank of a creek bed, nobody had space to move for a long several moments in which I was bathed in the purest rush of adrenaline euphoria I have ever felt.
My neighbor’s partner had gone to the house for supplies and heard our calls, so brought a horn with them when they returned. As they approached the standoff, we decided to try to haze the lion off. My neighbor blew their horn abruptly, shockingly loud in the still morning, and I shrieked like the primate I am and stomp-clapped in the crouching lion’s direction. The cat evaporated, flashing up the bank so fast that I was left with a retinal after-image of a tail as long as me and a rack of ribs streaking into a tan blur. I’ve carried a small marine air horn ever since. It was $15 and fits in my pocket, and I suggest you get one too.
This could be a story about how a plucky neighborhood of farmers defended themselves from a marauding beast, except for one detail. That starving teenaged lion was likely taking a chance on a goat pen because their mother had been shot by someone further up the road a while back, which we had heard about through the grapevine. Lions stay with their families for up to two years and are not able to hunt successfully enough to survive for quite a while even after they attain their full size. This lion’s desperation was likely created by human actions.
When my grandfather was growing up in Mendocino County, times were so hard here that the entire landscape had been stripped by desperate people. The Great Depression, following a World War and the Spanish Flu pandemic, had collapsed the economy. There were few if any deer left to shoot, and the livestock they had were zealously guarded by a totally unregulated extermination war on all native carnivores, including mountain lions. My great-grandmother sent him out, as a young child, with a shotgun. He would shoot songbirds and blue jays, which his mother would boil for broth, straining out the tiny bones. When skunks got into their chicken coop, it was such a tragedy that they resorted to trapping the skunks themselves, keeping them in the now-vacant coop until their winter pelts grew in, when they were skinned and their pelts—white stripes disguised by black dye, as counterfeit mink—sent to San Francisco to be sold to the rich, on a small boat also carrying moonshine. This happened within living memory, and apex predators are slower to recover than smaller animals. It may feel like there are more sightings of lions now than we had growing up, but recovery is not the same as invasion.
I share this family and local history to give ecological context that’s specific to this county’s recent history, but mountain lions have lived alongside humans on this landscape for tens of thousands of years. Since colonization they have suffered greatly, but are still here. We must learn to live with them, because exterminating them has already been tried and has failed. In California, from 1907 to 1963, mountain lions were classified as a “bountied predator,” and a record of 12,462 lions were killed for bounty in that time, more than any other state. After the bounty system ended, hunting was allowed until a moratorium from 1972 to 1986, after which point Proposition 117, California Wildlife Protection Act, officially banned hunting of mountain lions in 1990. In 2013, Senate Bill 132 became law, which protects lions in populated areas and only allows lethal removal in the case that a lion is posing an imminent threat to human life—aggressive behavior that is not due to the presence of first responders.
In the years since then, the California Department of Fish and Wildlife (CDFW) has added additional protections to endangered populations in Southern California and has implemented F&G Code 4801.5, which allows CDFW to partner with entities to implement non-lethal procedures on mountain lions, including rescue and rehabilitation. All of these policies may mean a recovery of mountain lion populations to closer to what they were before the wholesale extermination policies at the turn of the century, but even with new protections, there are many issues preventing a full recovery.
Panthera, a global big cat advocacy organization, estimates that the 2020 wildfire season alone negatively impacted at least 15% of California’s total lion population. Plowed fields, highways, and housing developments isolate populations from each other, causing genetic bottlenecks. Perhaps most insidiously, they are sickened by rodenticides and the mercury which drifts off the ocean in the fog from international oil and gas drilling. This mercury, according to researchers at U.C. Santa Cruz, hyper-accumulates in lichen favored by deer, and then further concentrates in the bodies of lions who primarily eat deer. All these factors mean that mountain lions in Mendocino County, while enjoying more legal protections than they ever have before, still face myriad challenges.
What does this mean for those of us who make a living farming and ranching? First of all, we need to know and follow the law. It is not legal to shoot a mountain lion on sight on your ranch, even if it is near your livestock, nor is it legal to shoot a lion on sight anywhere else. However, that does not mean you should allow a lion to pick off your chickens or goats! It’s unsafe for everyone involved, including the lions, to learn to predate livestock. Permits must be obtained to haze, shoot, or trap a lion, and if you use lethal force to defend yourself or your animals in the heat of an imminent threat, it must be immediately followed by a phone call to CDFW, which can grant a permit verbally and then follow up. There are potentially dire legal consequences for not following these laws, and social consequences to our neighbors and operations from the disturbance to the lion population as well.
Ecosystems are not arithmetic structures. If you have ten lions and shoot one, you do not necessarily end up with nine lions. What you have is a reeling social structure that may actually result in more lion conflicts than you had previously, as new migrating lions seek to fill the vacated space, and/or desperate orphans take the risk of coming close to humans and their pets and livestock. We are safest when our communities are all stable, human and wildlife. It is better to learn to live with the big cats we have than to keep their social network in a constant state of chaos by lethally removing lions.
I see living in a functioning ecosystem as a sign of success of my operation, and I hope other farmers can learn to see it that way too. A 2006 study by Ripple and Beschta shows that mountain lion presence increases diversity at every trophic level, from beetles to amphibians to streambed plant diversity, due to their impacts on ungulate populations. A 2016 study by lead author Sophie Gilbert estimates that the savings in dollars and human lives by returning mountain lions to the parts of the Eastern U.S. where they’ve been extirpated could be immense, preventing 21,400 human injuries, 155 fatalities, and $2.13 billion in avoided costs from deer vehicle strikes over a 30 year roll-out period. The study also points out that the return of mountain lions to South Dakota prevents collision costs with deer on such a large scale that they save the state $1.1 million annually. South Dakota has 886,667 people, while California has 39,185,605. Restoring the lion population in California would save money and lives at a scale proportional to our vastly larger population, every year. It seems appropriate that some of those savings could be applied to making coexistence work for everyone, but I’m just a farmer, I don’t make state budgets. These numbers illustrate that, while conflicts we have with mountain lions are serious and sometimes costly, we are still better off with them than without them.
Mountain lions are large and powerful animals who can be dangerous but most of the time avoid us at all costs. A Santa Cruz Puma Project study in 2017 showed that they will even leave their cached kill sites when recordings are played of human voices versus control sounds. Their avoidance of humans means that many of us have gotten away with leaving small ruminants unprotected for years before something happens. When a depredation does occur, it’s shocking, scary, and sad, and can feel violating. The fact that depredations are rare doesn’t mean that we should roll the dice with our animal’s lives, leave them unprotected, and then take lethal action when a native carnivore eventually takes advantage. No one wins in that scenario. Proactive tools are safer, less traumatic, and more effective than reactive ones.
A 2013 study from CDFW shows that only about 25% of autopsied mountain lions, killed with depredation permits, had stomach contents matching the animals they were accused of eating. This means that either the livestock was not killed by a cat at all, or that the wrong cat was trapped. Trapping as a tool is imprecise, can backfire due to the consequences of social chaos for the surviving local lions, and should be saved for the absolute worst case scenarios, not be a regular tool of agricultural businesses. Mendocino County no longer has a contract with USDA Wildlife Services for trapping.
Depredation permits can still be obtained via the appropriate channels in emergencies, but the paradigm is shifting, and as shepherds we have to shift too. A USDA-APHIS study done in CA in 2014 and 2015 shows that losses of cattle to any predator represent 1.1% of unintentional deaths for mature cattle and 5.8% of calves, with only 20% of beef ranchers using any form of non-lethal management tools. The same study reports that 19% of unintentional sheep deaths and 45.3% of lamb deaths were from predation in the same years, with only 58% of sheep ranchers using any form of non-lethal management tools. Adopting tools like livestock guardian dogs, whose efficacy ranges from 93% to 98% across several studies in different regions, seems like the obvious step. Since implementing tools including electric fence, guardian dogs, and flashing solar Foxlights, I haven’t had a depredation in several years.
Learning to live alongside wildlife is our only long-term solution, and given how large their ranges are, will always be a community project. The last time I wrote about coexistence for a local paper, I got hate mail and harassing phone calls. This is clearly a very emotional issue for many people. I understand how sad it is to lose animals, and I have been face to face with the consequences of a neighbor shooting a mother mountain lion—which was her starving cub hissing in my face. This has become such an important issue to me personally that I have recently begun to work with the Mountain Lion Foundation as their Coexistence Coordinator, where I gather and share research and tools for homesteaders and ranchers. Project Coyote has also offered to help support Mendocino folks who are struggling with conflicts. There will soon be a non-lethal exclusion service up and running in the county as well, and I’m excited to learn more about that project as it develops.
I strongly believe that there is a way forward that protects the safety and viability of our farms and ranches and families, as well as that of wildlife. We may never reach a goal of zero depredations, any more than we reach a goal of zero tractor accidents or zero wildfires. We live and work in a dangerous and complex world, which makes it all the more essential to approach our work with proactive, holistic safety in mind. We can do more than deter desperate native carnivores from causing trouble; we can foster ecological health that enables stable thriving populations to live without needing to scrounge from our tables. Any farm or ranch that strives for sustainability, regeneration, or to be climate beneficial must include the native ecosystem we live and work in. Practically and ethically, the only way forward is together.
Gowan Batist of Fortunate Farm is a Post-Industrial Pastoralist working towards regeneration on landscapes her ancestors devastated. She is seldom seen, but sometimes glimpsed out in the fog or the oak savanna propagating native plants, spinning wool, hand shearing sheep, or sprawling on the ground with dogs. Her writing can be found at https://www.patreon.com/GowanBatist.
Exciting Times at Noyo Harbor
A New Harbormaster and Monthly Fish Market Bring Fresh Energy to the Docks
by Holly Madrigal
Fishing has been in Anna Neumann’s life for a long time. As the new Harbormaster in Noyo Harbor, she may seem young at 32, but her experience belies that. “I was happy being a fishmonger before I was recruited for this job,” says Neumann, who was part of the Princess Seafood Fishing Crew, which has successfully expanded local access to fresh-caught seafood through their market and restaurant. The all-female fishing crew caught rockfish, crab, and salmon all up and down the Mendocino Coast. The new job as Harbormaster keeps Neumann closer to home, and the relationships she made in Noyo Harbor have served her well.
The Harbormaster is “. . . responsible for all the mud within the harbor district,” says Neuman. That means maintaining and managing all the slip fees, supporting the commercial fishing industry centered in Fort Bragg, and facilitating infrastructure projects within the Noyo Harbor District, a special district that is responsible for the Noyo Harbor and the Noyo Mooring Basin. Noyo Harbor is one of the few remaining working harbors between San Francisco Bay and Eureka, and a five-member board meets monthly to guide its long-term planning and operation. Anna Neumann is serving her first year as Harbormaster, and she has hit the ground running. The new Noyo Fish Market is just one of the initiatives she has underway.
The meadow on the South Harbor is the traditional site of the World’s Largest Salmon BBQ on the 4th of July, and it has typically remained quiet most of the rest of the year. But on this bright sunny morning, it’s bustling with the Fish Market, a kind of farmers market for the harbor’s fish catchers. According to Neumann, the idea came out of a brainstorming session to develop more markets for local fishermen, which is one of the Community Sustainability Plan targets. “I’m not sure how I can entice large businesses to come in to buy our fish, but I know that our community buys a lot of local seafood. I know this from working at Princess Seafood Market, where Heather got her start selling her fish off her boat in the harbor. Noyo Harbor has minimal dockside sales, which could be increased. I thought that if we could make an event of it, if you could grab everything you need for dinner right here, it makes it easy,” she adds.
Neumann had heard murmurings in the community that there was a certain shyness and uncertainty about how to access this fresh catch. “Can you just walk up to a boat?” and “Where is F dock?” were common refrains. The idea behind the market is to support the fisherfolk in developing relationships and a customer base. The customer will learn that if A dock is here, then F dock is four docks down, and they’ll find friendly faces. So when there is a fish special, signs can go up around town, and folks will know where to go to get fresh fish.
Local farmers have been encouraged to bring their produce to the market, and craft vendors are selling everything from custom cutting boards to wave-themed art. Live music entertains as a guitarist strums a tune. The aroma of fresh pupusas from a pop-up vendor fills the air. One attendee makes a beeline for a lunch of Fry Bread Tacos before starting to shop. Thanksgiving Coffee, whose roastery headquarters are on the South Harbor, has a table offering samples of the local brew.
Walking the plank to A dock, the boats are lined up, coolers overflowing with the day’s catch. James “Red Beard” Karlonas is filleting a fish for a young family waiting boat-side. The family’s three-year-old watches, fascinated, as James skillfully slices and chops the gleaming scales from a Canary rockfish. “I just went out this morning to catch some fish so that I could make an appearance today,” he says. “Most of the fish I sell are for wholesale. It’s like running a whole other business to sell directly to the consumer.”
James typically sells to fish buyers in the Bay Area, and he also crabs out of Bodega Bay when the season is right. “Dandy Fish Company usually buys all my crab. Up here I catch mostly sablefish, also known as black cod, and those go to San Francisco.” An older gentleman grabs a 20-pound lingcod out of the cooler. He used to captain his own fishing boats off the coast of Fort Bragg, running the Miss Kelley and the Verna Jean for himself, so he doesn’t need it to be fileted for him. He takes the whole fish, packed with ice, even though it doesn’t quite fit in his bag. Red Beard’s ling cod is going for $5/lb today, a deal as far as the old-timer is concerned, since he didn’t have to catch it himself.
One berth down, the Viking is doing a swift business. “This is usually a charter boat,” says Kirk, who runs Noyo Fish Charters as captain of the Viking, “but we haven’t been too busy recently. Maybe it’s the price of gas. Hopefully, recre-ational fishing tours will pick up soon.” They were offering China rockfish and Petrale sole, and Kirk explains, “The sole you have to cook hot, otherwise it will get mushy. The rockfish you can cook in a pan, barbeque, fry it, whatever style you like. These would be better for fish tacos, if that is what you are aiming for.” Lauren, Kirk’s girlfriend, says baking the rock cod is her favorite method.
The Harbor District has 256 slips. Roughly 200 of them are “full-time slips” and 50 are “transient short-terms,” running the gamut from 7-month short stays for the fishing season to ships coming in out of the weather when they need a night. “I try to make sure that every boat that needs a safe harbor gets one. But it is a shuffle,” explains Neumann. There are several key infrastructure improvements needed in the district, such as a fuel dock, which would make boats traveling up and down the coast more likely to stop. Improving the Noyo Ice House business would allow for more rapid chilling of catch and more access for commercial fishermen.
Automobile access to the harbor is an additional challenge. The North Harbor has become a thriving restaurant scene, and the Noyo Center for Marine Science has purchased the old Carine’s Fish Grotto space, with plans to turn it into an educational space, offices, and coffee shop. But the narrow road in and out of the North Harbor causes traffic jams, and it would be easily overwhelmed in the event of an emergency. Geography limits expansion, however, with steep hills to the east and tribal land to the west, so creative solutions will need to be found to move forward with any project to change the status quo.
The Fish Market is a new venture and will take time to develop a following. If the crab season is a good one, then they hope to keep the market going through the winter. A thriving harbor is a key economic driver in this fishing town. Fishing, like any resource-based industry, is at the mercy of environmental and regulatory changes and market fluctuations. Future sustainability will require flexibility and nimble leadership. The new Harbormaster, by supporting projects like the Fish Market, is creating new opportunities for those whose livelihoods depend on the sea.
“If this works, we can expand,” says Neumann. “If it doesn’t, then we will learn from it and move on.” For now, Neumann has her sights set on a new fuel dock and is working with the Harbor District Board to make it a reality. But that is all behind the scenes. For now, you can venture down to A dock on the second Saturday of the month and grab a fresh catch right off the boat.
Noyo Harbor District
South Harbor Drive, Fort Bragg
(707) 964-4719 | NoyoHarborDistrict.org
Photo of Anna Neuman by Mary Benjamin.
All other photos by Holly Madrigal.
Holly Madrigal is a Mendocino County maven who loves to share the delights of our region. She’s fortunate to enjoy her meaningful work as the Director of the Leadership Mendocino program and takes great joy in publishing this magazine.
Offspring Wood Fired Pizza
Homestyle Italian Cooking with a California Touch
by Torrey Douglass
There are many reasons to stop by Offspring restaurant in Boonville. The light, airy interior is California zen—rustic, modern, and spare. The easygoing vibe and friendly staff make guests feel genuinely welcome. But first and foremost there’s the food—mindfully sourced, kissed by fire, and served with an easy-going, no-frills simplicity that belies the exceptional skill behind its execution.
Offspring is the creative offshoot of The Boonville Hotel, overseen by its Executive Chef Perry Hoffman and helmed by Chef de Cuisine Ben Ehlhardt. Ben is an upbeat, good-natured fellow who responds with quick attentiveness and gives the impression that he’s a moment away from rolling up his sleeves and diving into whatever task is closest at hand. Ben grew up in Chico, with a soil scientist for a dad, a gifted cook for a mom, and a bountiful home garden out back. Between accompanying his dad on farm visits and helping his mom in the kitchen make good use of the garden’s output, young Ben was exposed early and often to the joys and possibilities of agriculture at different scales, as well as to the deeply satisfying pleasures of well-made, garden-fresh cooking.
Ben helped his dad in the fields, gathering samples and doing whatever little jobs were needed. When Ben was 15, his dad’s employer officially hired him as an assistant. The position was only for the growing seasons, so as he got older, he took jobs cooking in restaurants over the cold months. “I love that I’ve seen both sides,” he shares, referring to working both on farms and in kitchens. During these same formative years, he watched his sister—ten years older and an admired role model in his life—pursue her own culinary career, eventually landing work in Napa Valley’s fine dining world, along with her husband. Originally, cooking was a versatile and convenient way for Ben to make a living, providing both the funds and flexibility to travel. But his exposure to fine dining through his sister and brother-in-law eventually inspired him to aim higher.
So in 2008, Ben attended Le Cordon Bleu College of Culinary Arts in Portland, Oregon. He opted for the 18-month program, which provided a solid foundation in essential culinary skills, knowing he could learn anything beyond that on the job. He practiced knife skills and butchery techniques, made “mother sauces” and stocks, but the rigidity of the French approach didn’t appeal to his more improvisational cooking style. The better fit, he found, was farther south. “I love wood fired, rustic regional Italian cuisine, where ten different towns in the same region can make the same sauce ten different ways,” Ben reflects. As a result, of all the Napa restaurants where he cooked, a clear favorite was Oenotri, known for its wood fired pizzas and house-extruded pastas.
Ben eventually relocated to Healdsburg and became a sous chef at The Shed under Perry in 2016. The Shed was an ambitious establishment envisioned as a “modern grange,” with cafe, fermentation bar, retail area, and community meeting spaces, all devoted to local farms and sustainably produced local food. Its menus were crafted around the best ingredients available from the area’s farms and ranches—a more expansive and elevated version of cooking garden vegetables in his childhood kitchen next to his mom. It was the perfect environment where Ben could explore ever-more creative ways to use the cornucopia of local ingredients available.
The Shed shut its doors in 2018, closing down all but the retail portion of the business, which still remains online. Perry relocated to Boonville to take the helm of the restaurant at The Boonville Hotel, and Ben joined him as sous chef soon after. Besides an enduring friendship, the pair had developed a seamless professional rhythm, sharing a passion for cooking, a penchant for experimentation, and a similar nose-to-tail, leaf-to-root approach that uses the entire plant or animal. They continued to center dishes around premium local/seasonal ingredients, this time in the hotel’s prix fixe format.
In 2021, Ben felt ready to take the next step in his career and head up his own operation, yet he was reluctant to leave both the area and the hotel, whose values and cooking style harmonized so well with his own. As fortune would have it, there was an empty restaurant space across the street, complete with wood fired oven. Even more fortunately, it was located in a multi-use building owned by hotel partners.
So Ben took the plunge, opening doors in December of 2021, populating his menu with homestyle southern Italian dishes rendered with a light California touch, usually slightly reimagined from their previous incarnation. As an offshoot of The Boonville Hotel—under its auspices yet with its own pared down, fast-casual style—Offspring was the logical name for this next-generation endeavor.
As Perry sees it, “It was time for Ben to take it and run with it. I needed someone who spoke the same language, understood how to cohabitate in the same small town. The restaurant needs to feel different while offering the same clean, delicious ‘Boonville food.’“ The hotel and Offspring share resources, from staff to ingredients. “There’s a lot of back-and-forth across the road,” adds Perry. “We have a ‘no pizza dough left behind’ policy.” The team has worked hard to create a delicious, consistent dough with their premium Central Milling type 00 flour. Any that is left over at the end of the night becomes focaccia for the hotel, served alongside rillettes and dips the following day.
The menu is fluid, integrating gems from his favorite farms—strawberries from The Boonville Barn Collective, squash and fresh greens from Lantern Farms in Cloverdale, and whatever grabs his eye on the MendoLake Food Hub that week. There are truly outstanding pizzas, like a wonderful carbonara with crème fraîche, charred onions, speck ham, and parmigiano reggiano, topped with grated garden cured egg yolk and black pepper. Other favorites include a mushroom and white sauce pizza with oregano, and a lovely margherita interpretation with charred tomato and fresh mozzarella. And the indulgence of pizza feels entirely justified when it follows a few vegetable starters—the oven roasted broccoli with garlic aioli or a delicate green salad with tangy vinaigrette were both excellent.
True to his ever-curious, ever-expanding nature, Ben is looking forward to adding house-made pastas to the menu, and perhaps an oyster station on the back deck. And with the ice cream shop, Paysanne, next door now making its own ice cream, “pizza and a pint” (the cold, sweet kind of pint) will be available before long. Flavors include seasonal fruit sorbet, mint chip, meyer lemon and lavender, fresh cinnamon, and more.
The open plan of the restaurant, designed by Johnny Schmitt, is spacious and spare with large front windows, high ceilings, and an open feel. A rolling industrial door opens onto an outdoor deck with more seating. Works from local artist Katie Williams line the walls, including an oversized depiction of California poppies layered over an older painting promoting The Dark Carnival, a community Halloween party from some years back. The piece fills the wall behind the bar, the bright whimsy of the poppies set off by the muted and moody gothic elements that peek out from behind it, the weathered burnish of the background balancing the poppies’ delicate bursts of color.
It’s an apt metaphor for the restaurant itself: something refreshingly new standing on the shoulders of the distinguished elder. Offspring possesses its own personality, connected to its roots but standing apart at the same time. It’s early days and the staff is small, so the fast-casual format works well. Sure, you have to place your order at the counter and fetch your own water from the dispenser on the corner of the bar, but when the food arrives, you can taste the care that went into it. And maybe that care is the “home” in homestyle cooking—the vegetables brought in from the garden, the sauce just a little different from last time, and a food as common as pizza made uncommonly, scrumptiously good.
Offspring Wood Fired Pizza
14111 Hwy 128, Boonville | (707) 972-2655 | OffspringPizza.com
Open Tuesday – Friday, 5PM – 8:30PM | Saturday, 12PM – 8:30PM
Ben’s baby girl, Addison Alida Ehlhardt, was born July 17th. Our heartfelt congratulations!
Photos by Torrey Douglass. Other photos are courtesy of Offspring.
Torrey Douglass is a web and graphic designer living in Boonville with her family. Her life’s joys include reading by the fire, cooking something delicious, and inspiring her dogs to jump into the air with uncontained canine happiness.
The View on a Plate
Barndiva in Healdsburg
by Torrey Douglass
There’s no arguing that Healdsburg has gotten fancy, and has been so for quite a while now. But decades ago it was just a small, quiet town in northern Sonoma County where my family would visit friends over summer vacation. Those memories from long ago are suffused with the hot, dry air of August, delicately scented with sage. There were relaxed lunches under an oak tree whose crispy leaves were so sharp that I had to watch my step, even with summer-hardened bare feet. On hot afternoons we’d take a boat up one of Lake Sonoma’s fingers and jump into the dark water to cool off, carefully avoiding the branches of submerged trees still rooted in the reservoir’s floor.
Those days, the town was different. The shops were quaint instead of opulent, community events had a country fair feel, and when Costeaux French Bakery opened its doors and began serving cappuccinos—cappuccinos!—the inter-national novelty felt like the apex of elegance.
These days, Healdsburg’s fancy-factor has grown well beyond espresso topped with a little foam. Art galleries and chic boutiques surround the manicured town square. A local resort with eye-popping rates caters to A-listers escaping the limelight to soak in some wine country charm. And the food scene has kept pace, with trendy buzzwords d’cuisine sprinkling the menus, and wine lists so thick they could press the table’s (seasonally appropriate) floral centerpiece as a keepsake.
I don’t mean to be snarky. Food is wonderful, and fancy food is extra wonderful. But it has to be grounded, it has to be rooted in a philosophy that’s bigger than any ego involved. Otherwise, to quote Gertrude Stein, “there is no there there.” It has to have a center, a heart, or it risks being exposed to be as insub-stantial as a $46 tablespoon of prawn foam.
For Barndiva, tucked on a quarter acre lot down a side street off the square, that overarching philosophy is captured in three words: Eat the View. It is the food equivalent of the New Age spiritual axiom, “Be Here Now.” It asks, Where are you? What do you see? What’s grown and raised here, made by the hands of others who live here? Let’s eat that.
Co-owner and Creative Director Jil Hales explains, “Eat the View is more than a tagline attesting to a commitment to source food grown with sustainable and ethical intent. View is context. It’s what you get by paying attention in the moment. Beyond what a guest comes to eat and drink, our hope has always been that you will be nourished by every-thing you see and interact with here; that those elements will play over the entire experience in a way that you can, hopefully, play forward.”
Lots of restaurants have hopped aboard the organic / local / seasonal bandwagon. And that’s a good thing—the elevation of local food has benefits ranging from mitigating climate change to sustaining local jobs. It’s a core reason why this magazine even exists. But it’s a lot easier to type those words on a menu than to follow through with an ongoing, steadfast commitment. Yet since opening in 2004, the Barndiva team has done just that, seeking out the best foods grown and produced in Mendocino and Sonoma counties.
It helps that Barndiva founders Jil and Geoff Hales are farmers (of a sort) themselves. In 1984, Jil and her first husband, David Feldman, bought a 40-acre property not far up Greenwood Road outside of Philo. David had met Milla Handley at a champagne symposium, and his interest was piqued when she effused about the beauty of Anderson Valley. Two years later the farm came on the market, and they purchased it soon after. The family had small boys at the time and, as Jil puts it, “I wanted my boys to really get their feet in the dirt.”
The land came with established orchards of apple and pear trees, as well as a vigorous trio of heritage fig trees. The family was based in Los Angeles at the time, and Jil drove the first few apple harvests down to a food co-op she had helped start in Santa Monica. But that soon lost its appeal, and they began juicing their fruit with help from Tim and Karen Bates at The Apple Farm. The Bates family had moved to Philo the same year, and they have remained good and trusted friends for over three decades. Juicing became increasingly challenging as market conditions changed, so once Barndiva opened, it became their farm’s best (and only) customer.
A genuine family affair, Barndiva has been managed by Lukka Feldman, Jil’s son, since its opening, and he’s now co-owner as well. Jil provides creative direction, and Geoff looks after the numbers. Lukka’s partner Daniel Carlson, whose background is in seed propagation and floral design, joined Barndiva in 2016 to help oversee the gardens and take over what had become an extensive floral program in the restaurant. After six years of living between Healdsburg and Philo, though, the pair were ready for new challenges, and they moved to London in 2020. Lukka still handles main management tasks from abroad, returning regularly for in-person visits, and also oversees his new Barndiva California Wine import company. Daniel now works in the prestigious nursery at the paragon of English gardens, Great Dixter House & Gardens southeast of London.
Since the two moved, the orchards and gardens have been left in the capable hands of Nick Guili, with Dan continuing to provide garden design and oversight. Previously a private landscaper and volunteer with Alemany Farm in San Francisco, Nick moved to Philo in February of 2020. “There are worse places to be during a lockdown,” he shares, looking around the garden with a smile. He treks down to the restaurant every Wednesday, bringing the farm’s best fruits, herbs, and floral arrangements of the week.
There, the farm’s offerings are integrated into the restaurant with creative ingenuity. You might find the orchard’s apples, figs, and pears anywhere on the menu, not just salads and desserts. After the fruits have peaked, they are turned into shelf-stable items—apples, for instance, become apple brandy, apple syrup, and apple cider vinegar—so the kitchen can access flavors from the farm at any time of the year. Out in the dining room, floral arrangements provide glorious bursts of color, and the bar sports a brigade of glass vessels containing bouquets of leafy herbs for the mixologist.
Beverage Manager Scott Beattie helps guests “Drink the View” by building drinks around what he forages or has Nick grow for him. His concoctions include huckleberries, fir tips, and bar-top herbs like rosemary, fennel, and basil, as well as a huge range of edible florals. As the author of Artisanal Cocktails: Drinks Inspired by the Seasons, Scott is a natural fit for the Barndiva team. A recent addition to the drinks list, ‘You Are Time,’ honors the late Sally Schmitt of The Apple Farm. The cocktail features Seville Orange-In-fused Buffalo Trace Bourbon, Reduced Barndiva Farm Apple Cider Syrup, and Whiskey Barrel-Aged Bitters. If you order one, there’s a good chance it will be assembled by Geoff and Jil’s daughter, Isabel, who has worked behind the bar since graduating from college five years ago.
Herbs are expertly employed in the kitchen as well. Chef Erik Anderson, who earned two Michelin stars while at Coi in San Francisco, is uncannily adept at creating unexpected flavor combinations, resulting in simultaneous surprise and delight. I spent most of my dinner with brow furrowed, trying to parse the distinctive flavors as they harmonized in my mouth, savoring each bite of the duck breast au poivre while my husband enjoyed the succulent steak with black chanterelles and potato cake. Tasty bread creations accom-panied some of the main dishes, like the caramelized shallot brioche that came with my duck, or the petit baguette with the roasted chicken, each made by Pastry Chef Neidy Venegas. Neidy is also responsible for their masterful desserts, adhering to the Barndiva ethos of layering flavors in ways that are both unpredictable and deliciously satiating.
When it comes to food, there’s nothing more fancy than a Michelin star, and in October of 2021, Barndiva was awarded their first. When Jil reflects on the honor, she credits “a model of genuine hospitality that has its roots from our years in Anderson Valley trying to sustain our small farm holding. Respect for hard work and love of a singular landscape resonate through all we do.” That respect is reflected in the 19% service charge that is shared among the entire staff—not just front-of-house workers—and allows them to provide a living wage and health care. Jil shares, “This industry is at a crossroads. Sustainability means care for people as well as how you source food. If restaurants are to come out of COVID times with their spirits—along with the bottom line—intact, we’ve got to start taking better care of the people who produce food, put it on our plates, and wash up afterward.”
Barndiva’s accomplishments are the result of continuous self-evaluation, the desire to do better, and their commitment to uncover more and better ways to “Eat the View.” They will keep reaching for new heights, even as their feet stay firmly on the ground, their eyes on a landscape rich with culinary potential.
Barndiva
231 & 237 Center St, Healdsburg | (707) 431-0100 | Barndiva.com
Brunch Fri - Sun, 11AM - 2:30PM
Dinner Wed – Sun, from 5:30PM
Photo p47 and top of p48 by Torrey Douglass. All other photos courtesy of Barndiva.
Torrey Douglass is a web and graphic designer living in Boonville with her family. Her life’s joys include reading by the fire, cooking something delicious, and inspiring her dogs to jump into the air with uncontained canine happiness.