Winemaker Ben Jordan’s creations for Early Mountain Vineyards are lush and more familiar tasting than those for his Lightwell Survey side project, where he applies a spirit of creativity and curiosity to produce wines he calls “unusual” and “provocative.” Photo: John Robinson
On a sunny, blustery day in October, friends and fans of the four-year-old Virginia winery Lightwell Survey gathered in Waynesboro to celebrate the 2017 vintage release. Notably, a clown juggled red balls while swaying on a balance board, keeping the mood light—and slightly off-kilter. The winery’s neighbors in the complex include a concrete-fabrication facility as well as blacksmithing, glass blowing, and ceramics studios. The exposed brick, casement windows, fading green paint, and thick ceiling beams spoke to the site’s history, while the vibrancy of the new tenants generated a palpable sense of creativity and renewal.
Brothers Sebastian and Jay Zutant and winemaker Ben Jordan founded Lightwell in 2015. Jordan holds the same title at Early Mountain Vineyards in Madison County and at Midland Construction, a venture with his brothers Tim and Gray, which produces wine from grapes grown at the family’s farm in Fort Defiance, Virginia. Jay Zutant, a digital whiz who’s worked at StubHub, eBay, and Vivino, added his business acumen to the team as well as financing. Sebastian Zutant’s resume reads like an insider’s list of where to eat in Washington, D.C., with stints at Nectar, Komi, Rasika, The Red Hen, Proof, All Purpose, and now Primrose. But it might be his self-professed love of “goth punk rock” that best explains the aesthetic of Lightwell Survey. “Goodbye Horses,” the winery’s riesling, is named after Zutant’s favorite song—the one that plays in Silence of the Lambs while the killer is putting on makeup.
Jordan met Sebastian Zutant on a wine project for The Red Hen, which Zutant opened in 2014 as a partner and head of the beverage program. The men bonded quickly, in part because of a shared affinity for wines imported by Louis/Dressner Selections, which can be described as “non-interventionalist,” meaning, they seek to express the nature of the land and the grapes with minimal manipulation. Both Jordan and Zutant had come to love these wines in the early ’80s, long before the “natural wines” trend.
Zutant and Jordan agreed to launch Lightwell and jointly set its direction. Jay Zutant tossed in his lot with the visionaries, including the one who hired the clown (not Jordan), and together they began searching for grapes to express their tastes. Jordan describes the philosophy of Lightwell Survey as one that applies a spirit of creativity and curiosity to produce “unusual, delicious, and provocative wines,” per the brand’s website.
Lightwell Survey wines make their first impression with the labels—dark, folksy, sharp-edged illustrations by D.C. artist John DeNapoli. Each wine has its own backstory, and the artist’s interpretation of that story guides the label art. It is intentionally sinister and dramatic (remember, Silence of the Lambs), like a poster for a rock ‘n’ roll gig. The non-traditional branding echoes inside the bottle as well.
Jordan says the Lightwell team is always asking “What if…?” and “Why can’t we…?” They have valued these two questions, and the answers they produce, from the very start of their collaboration. Exhibit A: The 2017 Los Idiots, a blend of 59 percent syrah (red) and 41 percent riesling (white)—unusual, to be sure, but also successful. However, Jordan is also careful to emphasize that respect for established winemaking traditions informs their ethos.
“We’re not just being weird,” he says, underlining his point with an analogy: “You can craft a chair, and it can be highly creative and even look very odd but, in the end, there are certain principles about being a chair. It still has to hold someone up when they sit on it.”
The winemaking approach is self-described as minimalist: no added yeast, low to no added sulfur, and no filtering unless needed for stability in the bottle. The results, he hopes, are “aromatically driven wines with depth of flavor.” Judging by the tasting in Waynesboro, he hits the mark.
Jordan’s work for Early Mountain places him high among the ranks of central Virginia’s “traditional” winemakers, but with Lightwell he is deliberately pressing into scarcely charted territory. One sign of this is the lack of a central vineyard. Jordan seeks grapes planted in cooler climates, at relatively high elevations, or in stony soil. Lightwell eschews the “wine trail model” of large buildings in more populated areas. This enables them to choose fruit suitable to the wine they want to make, obviates a large capital investment, and makes more grapes available in a state where they’re in increasingly short supply. This unencumbered, small-scale model is common among the more established winemaking regions of the world—and perhaps a sign that Virginia’s wine industry is emerging from its infancy and entering a new stage of maturity.
More than once, Jordan reiterates that “we are both looking forward and remembering the past.” Ultimately, one can sense the tension between a reflective respect for what’s come before and an excited curiosity about what’s next. This tension seems to be reflected in the character of the wines, as if what is in the subconscious of the winemaker cannot help but be expressed in the wine. Lightwell Survey is still a very small winery, producing fewer than 1,000 cases a year. But one gets the sense that Jordan and the Zutants would like the business to grow, guided, of course, by the baseline questions “What if…?” and “Why not…?”
Lightwell Survey wines can be purchased online at lightwellsurvey.com
Taste test: A red and a white by Lightwell Survey
2017 Hintermen
72 percent riesling, 28 percent petit manseng; $29.99
This white combines a grape that is relatively rare in Virginia, riesling, with one that holds great promise here, petite manseng. Hinterman has a shy nose that teases with hints of tropical fruit flavors (papaya, mango, pineapple) characteristic of petite manseng. On the palate these flavors are also present and in balance, demonstrating the composition of the wine. The acid of the riesling provides a lift but is balanced by some roundness and texture on the tongue that comes from the petite manseng. The finish lingers like lime hard candy, inviting another sip.
2017 Los Idiots
59 percent syrah, 41 percent riesling; $29.99
The combination of grapes in these proportions is already noteworthy, but Jordan goes a step further by letting them ferment and rest together on the skins (instead of post-fermentation blending). Los Idiots has a penetrating nose of strawberry overlaid with Asian spices (anise, five spice, cardamom). On the palate, violet and rose floral elements emerge, as does a lime-strawberry taste like one of those interesting Jell-o combinations. The finish is complex and elusive. Lemon? Lime? Pineapple? Ultimately, the wine is light and refreshing, with many layers of flavor.
Lightwell Survey wines can be purchased online at lightwellsurvey.com
Caption page 1: Waynesboro’s Autumn Olive Farms crossed two heritage breeds—Patterson Registered Berkshires and Ossabaw Island hogs—to create the signature AOF Berkabaw, a six-year project that the owners call “the perfect pig.” Photo: Zack Wajsgras
The rain lets up all at once and the sun burns through the clouds, turning the dreary October day startlingly warm and pleasant. Clay Trainum, 58, walks swiftly along a dirt farm road behind his Waynesboro home, cutting across a 14-acre field toward a row of about 10 wooden lean-tos. The triangular structures stand at the edge of a forest and are overhung by tree limbs—nut-bearing walnuts, oaks, and hickories, Trainum is quick to point out. Spaced at comfortable intervals and surrounded by scattered piles of hay, the huts give the impression of a small village.
“Pig houses,” says Trainum. He owns this, Autumn Olive Farms, with his wife, Linda. “You ready for a show?”
As if called, the pigs appear: About 10 big sows waddle into the light. They have bristly black hair, long white snouts, sagging teats and strong, squatty legs. A cross between heritage breed Berkshire and Ossabaw Island hogs, the 300- to 500-pound moms look more like wild boars than livestock. The safari-esque impression, however, is curtailed by chubby-cheeked mouths that seem to smile and dozens of curly-tailed piglets that scamper about their mamas’ hooves, playful as puppies.
Clay Trainum started his sustainable pig farm with his wife, Linda, in 2005. Their raise their animals well, with sheltering tents and plenty of good stuff to eat. Photo: Zack Wajsgras
The early autumn has been hectic at Autumn Olive Farm, but in a good way. Trainum and his wife manage about 500 acres and more than 1,500 swine with the help of their two adult sons. When the full heat of summer relents, birthing season begins, and the sows have delivered about 200 piglets in the past five weeks. Ranging freely through parcels like this one, they nest where they please. Most choose lean-to villages or piles of hay tucked under nearby trees and brush. Some opt for wilder spots in the woods—a burrow under a fallen tree, or a leaf-filled nook beneath a rocky outcropping. The Trainums monitor them closely to avoid losing animals to delivery complications.
On top of butchering about 30 pigs a week and delivering meat to Michelin-starred chefs in a territory that includes Charlottesville, Albemarle County, Washington, D.C., and southern Maryland, the job is grueling.
“It’s a tremendous amount of work to raise pigs this way,” says Trainum. “And to me, this isn’t just the right way, it’s the only way.”
By contrast, he describes the cramped, concrete-floored, indoor confinement pins found at factory farms—a “perverse nightmare,” he says, where animals may never see the light of day, much less forage for nuts and berries. “Creating a superior product, being environmentally sustainable, treating animals humanely? If it isn’t required by regulation, if it doesn’t maximize profits, it doesn’t matter.”
Presently, the Berkabaw sows are marching toward a patch of sunlight in a staggered single-file line, trailed by a goofy procession of piglets. Crossing the threshold, the big pigs plop down and commence rolling on their sides like sunning dogs. Some of the piglets take the opportunity to nurse. Others mimic their moms. Most bustle about and play.
“Would you look at that?” says Trainum, like a besotted grandparent. He explains how the pigs prefer to take shelter from the rain and gloom, then “throw a party when the sun comes back out.”
“It always lifts my spirits to see it,” he says. “It’s one of the joys of being a farmer, getting to know these animals and their habits so intimately.”
For Charlottesville-area diners, that intimacy—and the husbandry practices it informs—has led to the creation of what chefs say is a world-class terroir pork product.
“I serve pork from Autumn Olive Farms exclusively,” says Matthew Bousquet, executive chef of 1799 at The Clifton and previous owner and chef of northern California’s Mirepoix, where he won a Michelin star. In terms of flavor and uniqueness, “I’d put this meat up against anything in the world. It’s that good.”
High on the hog
The success of heritage-breed operations in Virginia like Trainum’s and the now-famousPolyface Farm, in Swoope, has inspired other farmers to follow suit. In turn, increasing awareness and demand among customers has fueled the rise of artisanal abattoirs and butcher shops.
“What we’re seeing is essentially a niche [culinary] renaissance centered around heritage-breed pork products,” says Mark Estienne, a Virginia Tech professor who oversees swine-related research at the Tidewater Agricultural Research and Extension Center.
A butcher at J.M. Stock breaks down an AOF pig. “If someone takes home a Berkshire tenderloin from Autumn Olive, they’re gonna come back for more,” says Stock manager Alex Import. Photo: John Robinson
Though there are no official statistics (the Virginia Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services neither keeps track of breeds nor categorizes swine farms by size), Estienne says that, of the state’s give-or-take 1,000 hog farms, the vast majority are small-scale producers raising heritage breeds. Most sell their products at local farmer’s markets or by contract with regional restaurants and shops.
But before the current boom there was a bust. By the close of the 1980s, the shift toward “vertically integrated” farming models had reduced the number of Virginia swine farms from about 4,000 to well below 500. In short, says Estienne, one or two corporate farms “bought out the competition, contracted with most of the remaining farmers and dominated the market.”
Though once the norm, the number of heritage animals in Virginia had been in sharp decline since at least the early 1960s.
The animals are finicky, need plenty of space, and perform poorly in intensive farming models, says Estienne. Through time, heritage breeds were replaced by hybrids bred for placidity, and speedy maturation for increased yields. As a result, traditional favorites like Ossabaw Island Hog, Mulefoot, Large Black, Guinea Hog, Choctaw, Gloucestershire Old Spots, and Red Wattle nearly vanished.
But that started changing in the mid 2000s, says Estienne. The heritage breed renaissance began at farmer’s markets feeding the locavore and farm-to-table revolutions. Discerning customers looked for environmentally sustainable, humanely raised meats, spurring the demand for free-range pork.
“Ten, 15 years ago, everybody was rediscovering heirloom tomatoes,” says Alex Import, who manages JM Stock Provisions. “Now, the same holds true for heritage-breed meats.”
First and foremost is the taste.
“Farmers like Clay Trainum go insanely over the top to produce meat that tastes fabulous,” says Bousquet. Of course, there’s the freshness factor: Meat from an Autumn Olive Farms hog slaughtered on Monday arrives at 1799 within 48 hours. But that’s just the beginning.
The pigs are left to forage, feasting on nuts that have fallen from the reforested hickory, oak, and chestnut trees. Farmers supplement their diets with organic grain. Photo: Zack Wajsgras
Roaming hills and hollows for forage builds healthy muscles. Forests and grounds are curated to maximize edibles like wild roots and tubers, nuts, berries, and fruits. Fields are planted with a mix of rotating seasonal crops like pearl millet, winter barley, sunflowers, buckwheat, cowpeas, beans, sun hemp, squash, pumpkins, peanuts, and more. Supplemental feed is made from organic, sustainably-raised local ingredients. Hormones and antibiotics are anathema.
Combined with a climate Estienne says is ideal for raising pigs, the practices minimize stress, which produces better meat, according to studies by food scientists and agronomists, including Estienne.
“On one hand, you have a natural dietary diversity that’s unparalleled throughout the world,” says Import, who has traveled to porcine hot spots in Europe to study under artisan butchers and charcuterie makers. “On the other [hand], you have farmers that truly care about, and are hyperattentive to, their animals’ well being. And I’ve yet to have a customer that doesn’t taste the difference. If somebody takes home a Berkshire tenderloin from Autumn Olive, they’re gonna come back for more.” Though Import declines to provide specific numbers, he says JM Stock sells out of pork products made with Autumn Olive meat each week, and the shop’s clientele is steadily growing.
Fat is flavor
Added value for heritage breeds comes from the fact that, like heirloom tomatoes, different types bring different culinary qualities. Whether evolved or developed through centuries of selective breeding, musculature and fat-storing characteristics can vary drastically from breed to breed, says Estienne. From a culinary perspective, the result is a wide range of flavors, textures, and taste sensations.
Ossabaw Island hogs, for instance, are descended from Iberian swine released by Spanish explorers on an isolated island on the Georgia coast in the 1600s. The animals subsequently developed exquisite foraging instincts and a feast-or-famine gene that supercharged their capacity to store fat. In an ecosystem like the one at Autumn Olive Farms, Ossabaws produce what Import describes as a “crazy, funky, ultra-woodsy, deliciously nutty, hard fat.” Its unique texture and low melting point combine to create a sumptuous and velvety mouthfeel, making the fat ideal for charcuterie blends.
Berkshires, meanwhile, hail from England—the shire of Berks—and are believed to have entered the historical record sometime in the mid-17th century. Their popularity led to the founding of the American Berkshire Association in 1875, the world’s first breeders’ group and swine registry.
“From a butcher’s standpoint, Berkshires produce an ideal carcass,” says Import. “The meat-to-fat ratio is essentially perfect. You get these amazing dark red cuts with hard, white fat and exquisite marbling.”
Bousquet serves dishes incorporating both breeds at 1799. He uses lard from Ossabaws to make breads, as well as for frying and seasoning. A favorite fall dish pairs Berkshire pork belly with foraged chokeberries, pureed butternut squash, kale, and slivers of caramelized heirloom apples.
“I’ve worked with a lot of pork in my career and this is the best I’ve ever eaten,” says Bousquet. (Other chefs with Michelin stars who serve Autumn Olive Farms pork include Patrick O’Connell from The Inn at Little Washington and John Sybert from Tail Up Goat, in Washington, D.C.) Bousquet adds that heritage breed producers in Virginia’s mountain region (and greater Appalachia) have the potential to become for the U.S. what Black Iberian farmers are for Spain. “This meat is a true and authentic expression of the terroir. It’s as close as anything I’ve ever seen, anywhere, that absolutely goes with the region.”
The good earth
Trainum says he’s thrilled eaters have rediscovered heritage pork—and are thereby helping rescue rare breeds and related flavors from the brink of extinction. But he’s equally happy the sustainability practices he uses at Autumn Olive Farms are being adapted elsewhere.
At 1799 at The Clifton, chef Matthew Bousquet serves Autumn Olive Farms pork shoulder with escargot, garlic butter, pinot noir sauce, fried parsley, and a sunny-side-up egg. Photo: Tom McGovern
“In my experience, folks that raise heritage breed pigs strive to be good land stewards,” says Estienne. “They believe in going the extra mile to minimize negative environmental impacts.”
Trainum takes the ethos a step further. “Our goal is to have a net-positive effect,” he says. “And everything we do keeps that goal in mind.”
Fodder crops like legumes work double duty, feeding pigs and adding nitrogen to soils depleted by decades of monocultural farming techniques. Allowing crops to decompose naturally builds topsoil and increases water retention. Rotational grazing techniques distribute manure evenly and obviate the need for artificial fertilizer. Forested stream buffers are a minimum of 100 feet wide (about three times the recommended distance, according to Trainum). Pigs cool off in sequestered man-made lagoons and drink from watering tanks. Estienne says such measures help control runoff and keep pollutants out of waterways.
Meanwhile, acres of fallow corn fields have been reforested with hardwood trees; over 1,000 have been planted on the farm to date, and more are added each year. Trainum envisions a future where farm and delivery trucks run on electricity or biodiesel produced onsite.
“To me, this is a win-win-win-win situation,” says Import. He works with a topshelf product and serves as a go-between for customers and farmers that, together, want to improve the way the world eats. “I think of it like, we’re all holding hands, dancing together toward a future where this is the model.”
When the editorial team at Knife & Fork, the quarterly food-and-drink magazine published by C-VILLE Weekly, saw this exuberant photograph of Finnigan—the Australian labradoodle at Veritas Vineyards & Winery—we knew we had our cover dog. Photo: Zack Wasjgras
Finnigan among the vines at Veritas. Photo: Zack Wasjgras
On July 1, 2018, Virginia House Bill 286 went into effect, officially allowing dogs to enter winery tasting rooms. The occasion was met with no discernible reaction from one constituency: the dogs that live at wineries. • Those lucky animals need not engage in any “get your laws off my fur” protest. As vineyard owners and winemakers will tell you, the resident dog pretty much does whatever he or she wishes. • Whether they’re mascots, greeters, or guardians that chase away other animals, like geese or even pigs, canines at some vineyards can gain a certain level of celebrity. “People call and ask, ‘Is Fig in the tasting room today?’” Paul Summers, owner of Knight’s Gambit Vineyard, says of the popular hound. “They don’t ask about hours or whether we have a band playing on the porch—they only want to know about Fig.” • We’re tail-wagging happy to introduce you to Fig and a few other four-legged drinking buddies right here. Editor’s note: In the print edition of Knife & Fork, we misidentified cover dog Finnigan as Emma, an extremely similar looking pup from Muse Vineyards (see below).
Fig, a 3-year-old hound mix rescue, is evidently tired after a day of greeting tasting-room visitors at Knight’s Gambit Vineyard. Photo: Zack Wajsgras
Fig
Owner, winery: Paul Summers, Knight’s Gambit Vineyard
Gender, breed: female, hound mix
Age: 3
Origin: Charlottesville/Albemarle SPCA
Attributes: Sweet, affable
Duties: “When the tasting room is open, she mingles,” Summers says. “Otherwise, she’s out hunting something or other.”
Memorable moment: “None really stands out. She’s just so all-around friendly—that’s her greatest characteristic.”
Birdie the blue heeler, winemaker Ben Jordan’s dog, leads her human down a row of vines at Early Mountain Vineyards. Photo: Zack Wajsgras
Birdie
Owner, winery: Ben Jordan, Early Mountain Vineyards
Gender, breed: female, blue heeler (Australian cattle dog)
Age: 5
Origin: Harrisonburg breeder
Attributes: Big personality, high energy, always “on”
Duties: “She hangs out at the winery, not down near the tasting room. She thinks it’s her job to watch over me, so she follows me everywhere, out to the vineyards, you name it.”
Memorable moment: “We had a big event for the Virginia Winemaking Board. There were buyers in from around the country. We were all sitting down, eating—lamb cooked on a spit. I got a tap on my shoulder, looked up, and Birdie was standing on the [carving] table, licking up the drippings. It made quite the picture—I had it framed.”
Ti Rey the Welsh Corgi has pretty good hops for a 7-year-old. His first name is a French term of endearment, and “Rey” is an abbreviation of Dee (left) and Roe Allison’s vineyard name, Reynard Florence. Photo: Zack Wajsgras
Ti Rey
Owners, winery: Dee and Roe Allison, Reynard Florence Vineyard
Gender, breed: male, Corgi
Age: 7
Origin: Dalarno Welsh Corgis, Culpeper
Attributes: Gentle, unflappable, confident
Duties: “He’s our official greeter,” Dee Allison says. “When people arrive for a tasting, he knows before we do, goes straight to the door, and herds them in.”
Memorable moment: “He picks out certain people he likes, lays down beside them, and puts his head on their foot—right there at the tasting bar,” she says. Abbey, an 11-year-old golden retriever, sometimes has a tough time keeping up with her younger sister, Shelby, a 7-year-old German shepherd border collie mix. Photo: Zack Wasjgras
Abbey and Shelby
Owners, winery: Jason and Laura Lavallee, Wisdom Oak Winery
Gender, breed: both female; golden retriever (Abbey), German shepherd/border collie mix (Shelby)
Ages: Abbey, 11, Shelby, 9
Origin: Abbey, Augusta Dog Adoptions, Waynesboro; Shelby, a farmer in Pennsylvania
Attributes: “Abbey’s mellow and reserved,” Laura Lavallee says. “Shelby’s outgoing and rough-and-tumble, a tomboy dog.”
Duties: Abbey mostly hangs out with visitors on the patio, but she also looks to Shelby for direction and will follow her around. “Shelby’s the hunter—chasing away birds and deer,” says Lavallee.
Memorable moment: “Four pigs got loose from the farm next door and decided to visit,” she says. “‘Next door’ in this case means a half-mile away. Shelby spent a good 25 minutes herding them. It was a lot of work, but she got them back home.”
Finnigan the Australian labradoodle is at home among the aging tanks and barrels—and everywhere else, for that matter—at Veritas Vineyard & Winery. Photo: Zack Wasjgras
Origin: “We got Finn from a wonderful breeder in Suffolk, Virginia,” Pelton says. “A close friend had the same breed, and we fell in love with his kindness and spirit.”
Attributes: “Finn is a very compassionate and sensitive dog. He is full of energy and loves to snuggle.”
Duties: “Finn is in charge of lifting everyone’s spirits,” Pelton says. “He does that with his happy, constantly wagging tail and lots of love for everyone.”
Memorable moment: “Finn dressed up in a men’s suit for Halloween and seemed so proud and proper. It was hilarious!”
Muse Vineyards’ tasting room ambassador and wildlife manager, Emma, is a rare water-dog breed, the Barbet, which appears in French scripts as early as the 16th century. The American Kennel Club officially recognized the breed in 2020. An estimated 500 Barbets live in the United States. Photo: Zack Wasjgras
Emma
Winery: Robert Muse and Sally Cowal, Muse VineyardsVeritas Vineyards & Winery/winemaker and owner, Emily Pelton
Gender/breed: Female, Barbet
Age: 6
Origin: American Barbet, Indianapolis
Attributes: Sweet, gentle, and calm—but also an instinctive hunter
Duties: “Her main preoccupation is keeping various and sundry mammals from invading the vineyards,” Cowal relates via email. “These have included raccoons, deer, groundhogs, possums, squirrels, and rabbits. She also greets tasting room visitors, both human and canines, with enthusiasm!”
Memorable moment: “Her most outrageous, wildest act,” Cowal writes, “was killing a fawn and then dragging the poor thing around in front of startled visitors!”
To no one’s surprise, most of us who set New Year’s resolutions fail (88 percent, according to one study). And yet, we keep making them. It seems there’s something irresistible about the idea of a new year; a new chance to wipe the slate clean and start all over as stronger, thinner, healthier, kinder, more organized, more successful, more fun. Ourselves, but better.
We don’t magically become new people in January, but in government, the turn of the year really does bring change: On Monday, three new members joined two veterans on Charlottesville City Council, and on January 8, a new state legislative session begins, with a Democratic-led government for the first time in a generation. There’s an opportunity to make some major shifts, and for this issue, we asked a few community leaders to share three changes they’d like to see here in Charlottesville. Their answers range from better public transit to more trees to, as Haven director Stephen Hitchcock wrote, “Affordable housing; affordable housing; affordable housing.”
The internet will tell you that it’s best to be specific and to spread your resolutions throughout the year, rather than trying to change everything at once. But there’s also something valuable in thinking big. As filmmaker Brian Wimer told us, we need to use our collective imaginations to imagine how we want to live, not just five days from now (“that’s parking lots and like buying stock in Blockbuster”), but in 50 or 100 years. “If we want a better city,” he says, “we need to ask ‘What if?’”
Sunlight slants through the chestnut grove a dust-stirring harvest at the Virginia Chestnuts Bryant Farm and Nursery in Shipman, Virginia. Photo: Zack Wajsgras
Bryant Farms and Nursery in Shipman doesn’t look that remarkable from the road: just acres of hillsides planted with young trees, their straight slender trunks forming a grid pattern. It’s not obvious, from a distance, what species is growing here. But following the gravel drive through the orchard, down into a ravine and up again, one begins to notice the odd-looking green balls hanging from the branches. Fiercely spiky, lime-colored, a little bigger than chicken eggs, these could only be the fruit of the legendary chestnut tree.
Dave Bryant, who with his wife Kim owns these 46 acres, walks up to one of his 1,600 trees and steps on a fallen fruit laying in the shade beneath it. Its husk, which would poke holes in your skin as surely as any defensive desert cactus, gives way under his boot and splits neatly into four petal-like quadrants. Inside is a trio of dark nuts, as smooth and inviting to the touch as their husk is forbidding.
This is early October, and as Bryant explains, the trees have been dropping nuts for about three weeks, with perhaps a week to go. “They’re 10 years old, and they’re just coming into peak production,” he says. The farm illustrates the mid-harvest moment, with pieces of dry brown husk on the ground, other fruit still waiting green in the trees, and processing equipment at the ready in the barn.
Kim and David Bryant grow, process and distribute chestnuts from their farm in Shipman, Virginia. The 2019 harvest provided a bounty of 15,000 pounds of nuts. Photo: Zack Wajsgras
It’s curious how unfamiliar the trees are—their leaves and fruit seeming slightly alien—considering that the American chestnut was once a key native species throughout Appalachia. Richard Powers’ tree-obsessed novel The Overstory captures their beauty and importance:
“The chestnuts up North were majestic. But the southern trees are gods. They form near-pure stands for miles on end. In the Carolinas, boles older than America grow ten feet wide and a hundred and twenty feet tall. Whole forests of them flower in rolling clouds of white. Scores of mountain communities are built from the beautiful, straight-grained wood. A single tree might yield as many as fourteen thousand planks. The stocks of food that fall shin-deep feed entire counties, every year a mast year.”
Powers goes on to describe the tragic, mind- boggling epidemic that saw America’s four billion chestnut trees fall prey to blight in the early decades of the 20th century. Accidentally introduced from Asia, the fungus spread rapidly from its entry point in New York City and within 40 years had wiped out nearly every chestnut in the country. Though chestnuts lived on in cultural memory, they left a glaring absence in the actual forests.
Comeback crop
Dave Bryant says he wasn’t really pondering this history when he decided to plant a chestnut orchard. He and Kim just wanted to find a profitable crop to raise in their retirement, something they could physically handle as they grew older (as opposed to, he says, green beans that must be picked while bending over).
Wry and gregarious, with a neat white goatee, Bryant grew up in Nelson County and worked as a software developer before buying this property in 2002. The couple stumbled on the notion of chestnut farming as they researched many potential crops. Luckily for them, and for everyone who enjoys eating chestnuts, there are now hybrid varieties available that are bred to resist blight. The Bryants chose the variety Dunstan: 95 percent American chestnut, with 5 percent Chinese chestnut genes offering protection from disease.
“Its husk, which would poke holes in your skin as surely as any defensive desert cactus, gives way under his boot and splits neatly into four petal-like quadrants. Inside is a trio of dark nuts, as smooth and inviting to the touch as their outer shell is forbidding.” Photo: Zack Wajsgras
“Later, we said, ‘This is romantic,’” Bryant says—referring to the act of replanting 23 acres in Appalachia with a species that once held such significance here. But it’s harvest time, and practical matters come first.
For example, the Bryants and their helpers know that any nuts left lying on the ground overnight are likely to end up feeding deer—so they make a point of harvesting in the last hours before dark. “They fall to the ground naturally,” says Bryant. “We pick them up by hand, or I have a harvester I pull behind the tractor.” The machine’s rubber fingers flick the nuts onto a mesh conveyor belt that delivers them into plastic totes.
Lots of husks, sticks, and rocks end up in those totes too, which is where the pre-cleaner machine (nickname: Ethel) comes in. Sorting materials by weight and size, Ethel separates the “trash” from the nuts—“a lifesaver for us,” Bryant says. “We did it manually for the first couple of years.”
Ethel is officially designed to clean pecans, which speaks to the fact that chestnuts are a specialty crop, not as tightly woven into our culinary culture as other nuts. Having joined with four other growers in central Virginia to form the cooperative company Virginia Chestnuts, Bryant sells much of his product in cute two-pound burlap sacks at holiday markets and roadside stops. (A two-pound sack on virginiachestnuts.com costs $17.) They may not be a staple like walnuts or almonds, but they do enjoy a close association in American tradition with Thanksgiving and Christmas, which certainly helps move product. November, says Bryant, is the most important sales month on the chestnut grower’s calendar.
He’s pleased with this year’s crop, which he expects to weigh in at around 15,000 pounds. “It’s been so dry,” he says, “but the chestnuts are a nice size. You want them to have that red mahogany color”—and to feel very firm when squeezed.
As an entity, Virginia Chestnuts lives on the Bryant farm and is mostly run by Dave and Kim, but it’s meant to make life easier for all five of its member growers. A decade ago when they were just starting to plant their orchards, Bryant says, “We decided, ‘Let’s not all buy [our own] equipment and do processing.’” Apple growers had formed similar co-ops in the past, pooling resources to make washing, packing and marketing more efficient.
The group sells mainly fresh chestnuts, but Bryant says there’s a limit to that market, and as the growers’ crops continue to burgeon, they’ll begin to supply other products: dehydrated and frozen chestnuts, plus chestnut flour. Bryant expects future yields to reach 50,000 pounds per year.
After getting washed in a tank fitted out with bristly rollers, the chestnuts go inside to a sanitary processing room, where they get pasteurized, dipped in food-grade hydrogen peroxide, dried on racks, and chilled in walk-in coolers. As for the trees outside, they’re starting to close the gaps between their crowns, so they’ll soon be thinned to leave more space for each one to grow. Their mature height will be around 40 feet.
It’s different than the old-time stories of families wandering the mountains, shaded by chestnut trees 10 stories tall, and filling baskets with the natural abundance of the forest—a food given freely by the Appalachian environment and the giant trees it nurtured. But this orchard is a link to that time, experienced with all the senses: the sharpness of the husk, and its inner lining as velvety as a rabbit’s ear; the weight of the shiny dark nut in your hand; the moist yellow meat inside the skin that smells faintly of grass and cracks audibly when you bite into it. Mild, sweet, and satisfying, the flavor of a fresh raw chestnut is a true local delicacy (to say nothing of the sublime things that happen when you roast it—in your oven or, as the song has it, on an open fire).
Says Bryant, “You can’t hardly beat that as a snack.”
It’s all-you-can-eat time again at Splendora’s. Photo: Andrea Hubbell
Ready to take a breather after the holiday bustle? Sorry—no rest for the weary. Besides, you’ll feel better if you get up and go, go, go with so many good things on tap.
That’s alotta gelato
Forget resolutions, there’s endless gelato to be had. Continuing a tradition started in 2007, Splendora’s Gelato offers all you can eat for $10 a person every Wednesday in January and February, starting Wednesday, January 8. There are a few rules (no re-entry, no sharing, and only one scoop at a time!) but this is still a solid deal. The record for one person is 36 scoops in two hours. Can you say “froze brain”? 317 E. Main St., 296-8555, splendoras.com
Buy one, give one
Eat well and give back at the same time at Great Harvest Bread Company. For every loaf of honey whole wheat bread you buy this month, owners Aileen and Michael Magnotto will donate one to The Haven. Also in January, sign up for one of the bakery’s Knead & Sip events (beer, wine, and bread—nice combo), and 20 percent of the $35 class fee will support The Salvation Army’s Soup Kitchen. 1701 Allied Ln., 202-7813, greatharvestcville.com
What the Belle?
Opened last April, Belmont’s Belle endeared itself to customers with its bright digs, luscious lattes, wine happy hours, and short-but-solid casual menu. But owner Andy McClure is aiming higher, partnering with brothers John and Scott Shanesy to add dinner to the mix, increase bread and pastry options, and revamp the breakfast and lunch menu. The Shanesy duo brings experience from restaurants in Charlottesville, Charleston, and New York City. Now closed for renovation, Belle is due to reopen January 15.
Two words: rare mezcal
Mezcal, tequila’s trendy cousin, has been rising in popularity on bar menus in recent years. Whether you’ve never tried it before or just want to keep trying more, head to the The Bebedero at 6pm, Wednesday, January 15, when barkeeps will pull the rarest mezcal off the shelf (like, normally $50 a shot rare) and serve samples to all who pony up the $50 entry fee. Email thebebedero@gmail.com for tickets. 225 W. Main St., Downtown Mall, 234-3763, thebebedero.com
Waterbird hits the bottle
In other booze news, Waterbird Spirits recently announced that the premium potato vodka used to make its canned cocktails will be available in liquor stores early this year. Sounds like a perfect addition for your bar cart.
Editor’s Pick: Self-care
Common Ground Healing Arts kicked off its New Year Class Series on January 6, offering a prime opportunity to jump-start your resolutions to take better care of yourself and engage more with the community in 2020. Held once a week for six weeks, the sessions operate on a pay-what-you-can basis, inviting participation in any of 16 classes, from gentle to “radically restorative” yoga, and mental exercises such as Mindful Communication Toward Racial Justice. Carver Recreation Center at The Jefferson School City Center, 233 Fourth St. NW, 218-7677, commongroundcville.org
Looking ahead
Just announced: Celebrated local chef Ian Redshaw (formerly of Lampo and Prime 109) returns to the kitchen at The Happy Cook’s newly expanded cooking school on Wednesday, March 11, 6-8pm, sharing his secrets for making fresh filled pasta (ramp agnolotti with beurre blanc) from scratch. This is a hot ticket, so book fast for a spot at the table. $75 per person. Barracks Road Shopping Center, 977-2665, thehappycook.com • Feeling crafty? Expand your repertoire with a workshop at The Hive. The brush-lettering basics class takes place 7-9pm Thursday, January 23, and hand-knitted pillow instruction will be offered 2-4pm Saturday, January 25. $65 and $50 per person, respectively. 1747 Allied St. Suite K, 253-0906, thehivecville.com • Get your steps in with a Ragged Mountain Reservoir Hike hosted by Wild Virginia. Starting at 10am Sunday, January 26, the seven-mile loop should take approximately five hours, including a break for BYO lunch. Free, but registration is required at bit.ly/ragged-hike. 1730 Reservoir Rd., contact Dave Carey (dcarey@his.com) for more info
New Year’s is a time for resolutions, but this year, we decided to focus our attention on city improvements, not self-improvement. So we asked a bunch of community leaders about their hopes for Charlottesville (and added a few of our own). Here’s to a new year, a new decade, and new visions for a community that’s bigger and better than ever.
Kari Miller, executive director and founder, International Neighbors
1. That employee income increases as fast—or faster (imagine that!)—as housing costs rise.
2. That each resourced resident (most of us) connect with one neighbor in need (many of us) in order to make Charlottesville/Albemarle the best place for all of us.
3. That special immigrant visa holders, or SIVs, receive the official status of U.S. veterans of war for their service and sacrifice for the U.S. military during conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq. Many SIVs live in Charlottesville—they are our neighbors—and deserve our respect and support. The presence of these people of unparalleled patriotism makes Charlottesville/Albemarle a stronger community, and yet they struggle to survive, despite having put themselves at great risk to protect our common values.
Deborah McLeod, Photo Amy and Jackson Smith
Deborah McLeod, Chroma Gallery
1. A pedestrian bridge across the Rivanna joining River View with the Darden trail on the Albemarle side.
2. A better designed bus system that responds to the needs of the users (present AND potential) that is hub based rather than the current over long circuits that make commuting take so absurdly long—and add more buses.
3. Create a charming enterprise business zone at the Friendship Court stretch along Second Street leading toward IX.
Michael Payne, City Council member
I love Charlottesville, but I canhardly afford to live here! Three improvements:
1. A more robust public transit system with more frequent stops.
2. Achieving carbon neutrality and local climate resilience.
3. Expanding affordable housing opportunities, including public housing and community land trusts.
Sean Tubbs, resident and public transit advocate
1. The creation of a Charlottesville Karaoke League.
2. The establishment or promotion of an all-ages social gathering space to break down generational silos.
3. More reporting from more sources on more issues. There are so many stories that need to be told.
Stephen Hitchcock, executive director of The Haven
1. More affordable housing.
2. More affordable housing.
3. More affordable housing.
Peter Krebs, community outreach coordinator at Piedmont Environmental Council
1. A Connected Community: I would love to see safe and comprehensive bicycle and pedestrian infrastructure that links homes to jobs, schools, shopping, and recreation, and that supports area-wide transit. Progress to date has been much too slow and I would like to see it accelerated.
2. A Thriving Community: I would like to see everyone, regardless of age, ability, or any other factor be able to move about and pursue their dreams in a vibrant urban area that is healthy, sustainable, rich in opportunity, and surrounded predominantly by intact forests, farms, and ecosystems.
3. A Community that Works Together: I would like to see Albemarle, Charlottesville, and UVA working together systematically and methodically on transportation, housing, economic development, and environmental protection and conservation. The existing memoranda of understanding are a great start but I’d love to see a much more ambitious level of cooperation.
More than a parking lot
The City Yard, a 9.4-acre municipal works lot in the heart of Charlottesville is, as we wrote last year, “large, central, under-used and under government control”—so why hasn’t it been developed?
The yard, home to black and mixed-race residents more than a century ago, was also the site of the city’s gas works. For decades, concerns about possible contamination kept its use limited to public works vehicles and maintenance facilities.
But faced with a growing population and an increasingly urgent affordable housing crisis, the city is taking a second look.
“I think with City Yard and a few other places near downtown, you could afford to do some unconventional experimentation,” former mayor Maurice Cox told us this spring. “I think it’s too valuable to stay fallow, but it’s too big and difficult to use a conventional set of tools.”
In November 2018, City Council awarded $500,000 to New Hill Development Corporation, an African American-led nonprofit group, to study redevelopment in the Starr Hill area, which includes the City Yard. This fall, they presented their plan, proposing to develop the City Yard into a mixed-use area with 85 to 255 majority affordable housing units and flexible business/commercial spaces focused on workforce development.
It’s part of a larger push to revitalize the area and, with the proposal’s emphasis on open, pedestrian-friendly streets and the transformation of the Jefferson School into a “public square,” it feels like a way to right some of the city’s historic wrongs. After the razing of Vinegar Hill and the walling off of 10th and Page, a redevelopment of the area would reconnect one of the city’s last remaining African American neighborhoods with its increasingly vital downtown. So while many big hurdles remain—most notably whether the site needs environmental cleanup, and if so how much it will cost—it’s a vision worth pursuing. –Laura Longhine
Hunter Smith, founder and CEO, Champion Brewing Company
1. Elimination of food insecurity in the greater Charlottesville-Albemarle area. We have way too many restaurants per capita and disposable income in this community to have hungry neighbors. In 2020, I’d like to challenge myself and fellow restaurateurs to find a way to fight food waste and instability together.
2. More public/private initiatives. As long as the Dillon Rule stands, there are many things the city can’t do that residents expect it to do when it comes to affordable housing and other community priorities. With more projects like New Hill Development, the city can leverage its resources and staff to support not-for-profits that are capable of doing the work the city often cannot.
3. Dewberry Hotel (formerly the Landmark). Good lord, what an eyesore. It’s kind of amazing that the Downtown Mall is still such a destination with that hulk looming
around. There’s a lot of opportunity for a decade-old, derelict structure to be put to better use.
Alan Goffinski, executive director of The Bridge Progressive Arts Initiative
My wish for the city is that Charlottesville might institute an Office of Getting Sh*t Done within city government that supports individuals and nonprofits with good ideas by identifying resources, connecting like-minded folks, streamlining procedures and application processes, and navigating the intimidating aspects of government bureaucracy.
Heather Hill. Photo: Eze Amos
Heather Hill, City Council member
1. Public meeting spaces that are welcoming and respectful of different perspectives, inviting collaboration versus division.
2. A community commitment to investing public and private resources in our schools’ infrastructure.
3. A more regional approach to taking tangible steps that address priorities, including connectivity and housing.
Walt Heinecke, associate professor of Educational Research, Statistics, & Evaluation at UVA
1. I would like to see the new City Council replace the watered-down bylaws and ordinance for the Police Civilian Review Board recently passed by council in Novemberwith the original bylaws and ordinance submitted by the initial CRB in August. The latter bylaws and ordinance provided the strongest model for community oversight and complaint review allowed by state law.
2. I would like to see all racist statues in Charlottesville, including the George Rogers Clark statue at UVA, removed.
3. I would like to see UVA establish a Center for the Study of Race and Social Justice and acknowledge that the university exists on stolen Monacan land; establish a formal and respectful relationship with the Monacan Nation; establish a fully funded indigenous studies center with adequate faculty hires, a substantive effort to increase Indigenous student enrollment, and a physical building for the center.
Jeff Dreyfus. Photo: Martyn Kyle
Jeff Dreyfus and partners, Bushman Dreyfus Architects
1. City Council devises a proactive, achievable plan for increasing affordable housing in the city.
2. The city and county begin incentivizing the production of solar energy.
3. City and county governments merge services and programs that overlap or are redundant to better utilize the limited resources we have.
Devin Floyd, founder, director, principal investigator at the Center for Urban Habitats
1. Environmental education: I would like to see schools not only put a greater emphasis on the arts and sciences, but also afford our youth opportunities to leave the classroom and learn more about local natural history. The more they get the chance to explore the plants, animals, and ecosystems that they share the land with, the more informed and compassionate they will be as stewards of the natural world. Children must be allowed the chance to get close enough to a salamander to see their own reflection in its eyes.
2. Daylighting streams: Natural springs, creeks, and rivers are the heart of our region’s biodiversity. I want the City of Charlottesville and Albemarle County to ban the practice of burying streams for development. Furthermore, I call for action toward creating a strategic plan for daylighting all springs and creeks that have been buried, and restoring a portion of the wetlands, grasslands, and forests they should be associated with. This will have the effect of creating a network of urban and suburban wild spaces, with associated parks and trails.
3. The new all-American lawn: I want to see our city and county governments take more responsibility for supporting sustainable landscaping practices. To this end, I dream of a new type of lawn, one that is beautiful, handles its own storm water (slowing it and cleaning it before it reaches local streams), requires but one trimming a year, supports wildlife, keeps its fallen leaves, and inspires young and old to explore. In this vision lawns become extensions of nature, and urban areas become bastions for biodiversity. I want people to have hope again. All is not lost; not even in an urban landscape. Nature is resilient, and powerful. We can each have a positive impact on the environment, even in a tiny lawn.
Patsy Chadwick. File photo
Patsy Chadwick, outgoing president, current board member, Piedmont Master Gardeners
1. Eliminate invasive species throughout Albemarle County. As I drive around the area, I am mortified by the vast numbers of invasive species along our roads, including ailanthus trees, Russian olive shrubs, English ivy, and kudzu, among others. It would be a herculean effort to eradicate these plants and replace them with more environmentally beneficial plantings, but we could begin to address the problem with a cooperative effort of state, county, and city government, private homeowners, and groups such as Piedmont Master Gardeners, Master Naturalists, PRISM, local garden clubs, and others.
2. Greater emphasis in our communities on planting trees—particularly, native species—to absorb carbon from the atmosphere and provide more shade during heat waves. I don’t think people realize just what an impact trees can make in helping to offset the effects of climate change.
3. Wiser management of water resources, including: 1) capturing rainwater in barrels and cisterns; 2) planting drought- and heat-tolerant plants that can survive with less water; 3) using drip-irrigation systems to put water where it is most needed; 4) not wasting water on lawns that have gone dormant.
Sunshine Mathon, CEO, Piedmont Housing Alliance
This next year could have remarkable impact if we come together with common purpose. Yet this work cannot be accomplished in a single effort or a single year. The strata of power, the scaffolding that frames our systems and institutions, took us 400 years to construct. With layer upon layer of root, flesh, and stone, we have laid beaten paths of opportunity and exclusion. And yet, though we may be overwhelmed by the scale of what must be undone, or what authority we must emancipate, this work is made imaginable when we laugh and breathe together, when we sweat hand in hand as we yoke ourselves to the labor, and when we cast our gaze to what we can accomplish in this single year.
1. Redevelopment begins: For years-decades-generations, community members from historically excluded neighborhoods have called for investment in their communities…but on their terms and in their interest. Within this next year, all the activism, the tears, and the planning will culminate in a remarkable, near-simultaneous achievement—the ground-breaking of redevelopment for three communities: Friendship Court, public housing, and Southwood. By this time next year, their foundational aspirations will become manifest in the bones of buildings, the homes they themselves designed.
2. A Strategic Housing Plan: Over the coming year, Charlottesville will develop a new strategic housing plan, a community-based process that can and will dig deep into our history, preparing us for future interventions. This housing plan will inform and guide the completion of the city’s comprehensive plan and a land use zoning code revision, culminating in a plan of action. Some aspects of the implementation will require strong political will, and a willingness to look inward to fulfill our collective responsibility, reprioritize resources, and redress past trespasses. These actions cannot be incremental. The accrued legacy is too deep and pervasive. Only bold action will enable our convictions.
3. A Common Analysis: Centuries of policies, incentives, and race-based decision-making have calcified the strata of power and advantage across the nation with people of color accruing the least of it. In the coming year, if our community is to accomplish some authentic progress, we must engage the work with a common analysis—specifically, an analysis of the institutional racism that permeates our systems, by intention and by neglect. By this time next year, our community could achieve a critical threshold. Research suggests that only 3.5 percent of a population must become actively engaged on a singular goal to reach a cultural tipping point. Through shared trainings, deliberate conversations, and active partnership, just 5,000 of us could lead our community to the fulcrum of change.
The Landmark/Dewberry/Laramore. Just call it an eyesore. Photo: Skyclad Aerial
The biggest joke in town
I’ve read a lot about John Dewberry recently and, man, he is a funny guy. Not funny “ha-ha,” but funny, like, “Dude, really?” For the uninitiated, Dewberry is the do-nothing developer who owns the largest urinal in town. It’s eight stories tall and holds down the corner of Second and West Main on the Downtown Mall.
The vision for a boutique hotel on the site reportedly originated with developer Lee Danielson, all the way back in 2004. Construction ceased in 2009, and Dewberry swooped to the rescue, or so we thought, in 2012. But so far, all he’s done is change the concept from luxury hotel to luxury apartments (just what we need) and the name from The Landmark to The Dewberry and, recently, The Laramore—an insult to the late local architect Jack Laramore, who designed the black granite street-level façade.
I wasted about 25 phone calls and six emails trying to contact Dewberry so he could tell me his plans for the vacant property in 2020. A spokesperson replied on behalf of the busy boss: “Hello, Joe. No updates at this time, but thank you so much for reaching out.”
Brian Wheeler, our fair city’s director of communications, indicated that Charlottesville has given up on trying to rectify the blighted blunder. Citing Dewberry’s “personal property rights,” Wheeler said, “He can own that structure [and] as long as it’s not a harm to others, he can keep it in that condition for as long as he likes.”
Whether Dewberry will ever do anything with the downtown carcass is unknown. But history isn’t comforting: Bloomberg Businessweek chose the headline “Atlanta’s Emperor of Empty Lots” for a 2017 profile of Dewberry, who has sat on valuable vacant land on that city’s Peachtree Street for 20 years. In Charleston, South Carolina, he bought a vacant government building and waited eight years to transform it into the luxury hotel that bears his name.
It’s funny, because the Bloomberg story quotes Charles Rea, who was once Dewberry’s director of operations, as saying: “He’s not going to put his name on anything that’s not superior, in his point of view.” Another former colleague said that Dewberry “…used to talk about Dupont Circle, Rockefeller Center. He wants his projects to stack up against the best.” You see? John Dewberry really is funny. –Joe Bargmann
Wilson Richey, partner and founder, Ten Course Hospitality
1. Double down on support of local businesses: Charlottesville’s small, independently owned businesses—shops opened and operated with great passion, meaning, and thought—are collectively one of the city’s most defining and important assets. As a local small business owner, I am worried that our current leadership has not been able to grasp this as they struggle to handle the many challenges of guiding a city that is growing so quickly. I believe our elected officials must show greater support for existing small businesses, and incentivize startups, so that these entities can make our city a stronger, more wonderful place than it already is.
2. Ditto, support for local artists: I grew up in a sleepy suburb of Washington, D.C. When I arrived in Charlottesville, I quickly realized the importance of the local artists and musicians. They lift our spirits, strengthen our cultural fabric, and make our city a happier, livelier, and more colorful place. In 2020, I’d like to see more support for the arts, both by Charlottesville’s leaders and each and every one of us.
3. Double-ditto, support for local agriculture. This is such an important issue, culturally and environmentally. It is a global issue in which Charlottesville has historically been a regional leader. But I believe we need to renew and increase our commitment to supporting sustainable, local agricultural efforts. We would all be healthier and happier for having done so!
Matthew McLendon, director ofThe Fralin Museum of Art
Matthew McLendon. Photo: Amy and Jackson Smith
1. I’d love to see an expanded, more robust, efficient, and reliable public transport system in Charlottesville that ties the surrounding counties to the city and makes getting around Charlottesville easier. Reliable and efficient public transport is the thing I miss most from my experience living in major cities. If done right, it is an important tool for greater equity, accessibility, and inclusion.
2. Following on with this theme (holiday traffic is on my mind, I guess), I wish that there would be a wide-scale overhaul on the timing of the traffic lights. I never feel that they are synced in the most efficient manner.
3. Finally, I am continuing to work with my colleagues on the vision and realization of a new center for the arts at UVA that would include greatly expanded university art museums, co-locating The Fralin and the Kluge-Ruhe to better serve not only UVA but also Charlottesville and central Virginia. With the intellectual and creative resources of UVA and the wider communities invested in our work, we have the ability to lead in creating the dynamic museum of the 21st century—a convening space for all who are curious and want to be engaged in the discussions art and artists can help to ignite.
Jody Kielbasa, Vice Provost for the Arts at UVA, director of the Virginia Film Festival
1. I would like to see the city and the county make a greater investment in the arts so that our arts organizations and artists can continue to enrich and bring us together as a community while serving as a catalyst to drive tourism and economic development.
2. I would like to see our public schools fully embrace the acronym S.T.E.A.M. over S.T.E.M. to recognize, foster, and celebrate the arts impact on our children’s well-being, learning, and self- expression. The arts make the world a better place.
3. I look forward to the development of a creative nexus on the Emmet/Ivy corridor as part of UVA’s 2030 strategic plan that would welcome the Charlottesville community to better engage with the arts at UVA.
Beryl Solla, gallery director, Piedmont Virginia Community College
My big issue is climate change. I would love to see the city make young trees available for people to plant in their yards. I know the city is working on this for public spaces, but we need to use every space available to help turn climate change around.
I would love to see all city buildings outfitted with solar roof panels and/or green roofs.
I would love to see our city make decisions based on a better, healthier quality of life for all of our citizens, with an emphasis on inclusion and sustainability.
If allowed another big wish, I would move the questionable sculptures in town out of public parks/public spaces and replace them with beautifully made, figurative sculptures that tell everyone’s story. The agenda would be historical accuracy, racial inclusion, and fair payment for the artists.
Brian Wimer. Photo: Eze Amos
Brian Wimer, Amoeba Films
Before we start changing anything, it might help for us to understand who we are. A cohesive vision for the future would certainly be beneficial, if not just pragmatic. But not the future of five days from now. That’s parking lots and like buying stock in Blockbuster. How do we want to live 50 years from now? A hundred years? Can we use our collective imaginations and make the bold, innovative choices that bring our community closer? Sure, I can name three things we could work on: multi-modal transportation, multi-cultural programming, and a new Charlottesville identity (can we please drop the “World Class City” nonsense and try to be a world class village?).
Part of that identity is pride. Ever arrived at the Amtrak station and wondered if you were home—greeted by a concrete tunnel and a chain link fence? Not much pride there. Do I hear someone say “mural?” Something that shouts welcome.
But regardless of what projects and programs we initiate, they won’t be effective if we don’t start at the basic foundation of what makes community: trust and gratitude. I think we have a long way to go there. Some folks don’t even want to discuss such esoteric and sticky principles. But without trust and gratitude you might as well shut down this whole social experiment—Netflix and Trader Joe’s will likely not provide what our souls are searching for. Nor will more parking lots or business incubators or beer festivals. We have an opportunity to promote a new paradigm based on unifying principles. Failure to do so would demonstrate not only bureaucratic sloth and a wasted potential—but also a lack of collective imagination. If we want a better city, we need to ask “What if?”
Editors’ note: Since publication, some readers have rightly called out the fact that none of the respondents in this piece are people of color, and that there are far more men than women represented. While we reached out to a diverse range of sources, many did not respond to our repeated requests (or said they would get back to us, but didn’t). And in a shortened production week due to the holidays, I didn’t notice how skewed the group we ended up with was until it was too late.
While this was meant to be a fairly casual survey (unlike, for instance, our 8/12 anniversary feature), we regret that the responses don’t reflect our entire community. As editor, I’m particularly sorry to have made such a careless mistake, which is not typical of our sourcing or our work in general, as I would hope any regular readers would recognize. We try hard to elevate marginalized voices and stories, and we will continue to do so.
Luca Paschina, winemaker at Barboursville Vineyards, has high hopes for the 2019 vintage. "We will be celebrating this growing season for many years to come," he says. Photo: Amy and Jackson Smith
Like all agricultural endeavors, growing grapes is subject to the vicissitudes of weather. In Virginia, after a difficult 2018 harvest (because of rain, rain, and more rain), 2019 was good—some would say great—thanks to timely precipitation and stretches of warm, sunny weather.
“This vintage is a beautiful gift to the faithful farmer,” says Luca Paschina, the winemaker at Barboursville Vineyards. “We will be celebrating this growing season for many years to come, for giving us white wines of great intensity and fragrance and reds of unquestionably long age-worthiness.”
Part of this optimism flows from a sense of relief after 2018. Overcast and wet conditions can present serious challenges in both the vineyard and the winery. Lack of sunlight hinders the fruit’s growth and ripening, decreasing sugar content (it is this sugar that is fermented into alcohol), and producing grapes that lack flavor and can taste “green,” or undesirably vegetal. High moisture can also allow mold, mildew, and disease to take hold, leading to damaged fruit and diminished yields. In one of the sadder images of 2018, some winemakers simply left grapes to rot on the vine, because they had burst from too much water and, regardless, the ground was too soft to move harvesting machinery into place.
The next growing season could not have arrived fast enough. Chris Hill, who has been cultivating grapes in Virginia since 1981, says that better vintages share “the common thread of dry weather from mid-August through mid-October.” In his opinion, 2019 should be compared to great vintages such as 1998, 2002, 2007, 2010, and 2017. But Kirsty Harmon believes 2019 is the best vintage since 2008, when she started as winemaker at Blenheim Vineyards.
Joy Ting, research enologist for the Winemakers Research Exchange (and this writer’s wife), explains that, in addition to a dry season, an abundance of sunlight helped to ripen fruit much earlier than in previous years. “The white grapes came in quickly since daytime temperatures were high and sugar accumulated rapidly,” she says. “A little bit of rain and slightly lower temperatures allowed the red grapes to stay on the vine. This led to very good flavor and tannin development.”
Ting also puts forth a theory, shared by a number of winemakers, that the exceptionally wet conditions of 2018 led to higher groundwater levels in 2019, compensating for rainfall one to three inches below average last July through September. Winemakers Emily Pelton at Veritas Vineyard and Winery, and Michael Heny at Michael Shaps Wineworks, agree with Ting. “I was thankful for all of the rain that we had in 2018,” Heny says. “We had so much groundwater that the vines [in 2019] had everything they needed.”
But what about the 2019 wines? High quality, fully ripe fruit picked when the winemaker thought it had achieved optimal conditions (rather than because the next storm was coming), should lead to high quality, aromatic whites and full-bodied, age-worthy reds. It’s impossible at the moment to recommend specific bottles from the vintage—because, well, the wines are unfinished and unbottled—so I asked winemakers which 2019 wines held the greatest promise. “I feel that, in general, red wines more acutely express the quality of a vintage,” says Nathan Vrooman, winemaker at Ankida Ridge Vineyards. “The white wines coming from the region will be very good, but the red wines will really shine.”
Among those, cabernet franc appears to be rising to the top. Finot says the King Family cabernet franc “performed very well this year.” At Veritas, Pelton calls the 2019 crop “bright and vibrant and full of depth.” Paschina singles out Barboursville’s harvest from Goodlow Mountain, about a mile south of the winery, as perhaps its “most elegant wine of the vintage.” Similarly, Rachel Stinson Vrooman, the winemaker at Stinson Vineyards, points to her cabernet franc as “ripe and concentrated, but also maintaining some of the pretty florals and herbal aromas that I look for.” At Keswick Vineyards, winemaker Stephen Barnard believes the estate’s Block 2 cabernet franc to be “the best expression of terroir yet—savory, extracted, spicy.”
Other varieties to look for in 2019 include pinot noir from Ankida Ridge—one of the few area wineries growing the grape—and chardonnay from Loudoun County’s Wild Meadow vineyard. At Michael Shaps, Heny will use the chardonnay in a vineyard-specific wine; he anticipates the 2019 bottling to rival that of 2015, one of my own personal favorites. Also worth noting, according to Harmon, are albariño, a grape grown mostly in Spain and Portugal that’s still relatively rare in Virginia, and cabernet sauvignon, which the lingering dry heat of 2019 helped to achieve full ripeness and flavor.
With uniformly high hopes for the 2019 vintage, Pelton provides some perspective. “I think it is important for us not to lose sight of how fantastically wine tells the story of the year,” she says. “Great years tend to get all of the attention, but the fact that we get to capture all of the aspects of the fabric of a year—whether it was cool or windy or dry or wet—all speaks to the final product, and I find it thrilling to be a part of that story.”
Becky Calvert leads cooking club members at Walker Upper Elementary School as they prep ingredients for orzo with roasted root vegetables, fresh herbs, and fresh squeezed lemon and olive oil dressing. Photo: Eze Amos
On one of the last days of classes before the holiday break, the bell rings at Walker Upper Elementary School, and kids stream for the exits. But Becky Calvert is just getting settled into her “classroom,” a sprawling institutional kitchen with a lot of buffed stainless steel surfaces. “I try to do some of the prep for the kids every week,” says Calvert. The blade of a chef’s knife rings as she swishes it across a honing rod. She cleaves a turnip in two, then a carrot, and then a sweet potato…. “Roasted root vegetables are the main ingredient tonight!” she says, her voice rising over the noise of the convection-oven fan.
Celebrated chef Ian Redshaw, a guest instructor at the cooking class, keeps a watchful eye on the kids as they slice and dice vegetables. Photo: Eze Amos
For an hour on most Wednesdays, from 3:30-4:30pm, Calvert convenes the cooking club at Walker, guiding about a dozen 10- and 11-year-olds through a recipe. Former Charlottesville City Schools dietitian Alicia Cost launched the program in 2003, and it has been running ever since. A real estate agent by day, Calvert began assisting with the club in 2014 and took over as director two years ago. It’s funded by the schools, but Calvert has worked to secure donations and volunteer help to keep the club thriving.
Some food industry folks, friends of Calvert’s, help out. In fact, one has just bounded in and peeled off his jacket. “Hello, Miss Becky,” he says. It’s Ian Redshaw, the star chef formerly of Prime 109 and Lampo. He looks like a rocker ready to take the stage, with black Converse high-tops, skinny jeans, a flannel shirt, and spiky hair.
Redshaw washes his hands, dons an apron, and brandishes a knife. “What can I do for you?” he asks Calvert.
“I want those quartered,” Calvert says, pointing her blade at a mesh bag of brussels sprouts.
“Okay,” Redshaw says, “I am quartering brussels sprouts!”
Now the kids start trickling in and the volume increases, as their voices and laughter join the din of the oven fan.
“Hey, guys!” Calvert says, greeting Alex, Nakiya, Avarie, Maya, Amelia, Si-Si, Alanah, Zeniah, and Gabby. “Has everyone washed their hands?!”
“Yessss!” says the chorus of young cooks, positioning themselves in front of their chopping mats.
“Today we’re going to do orzo with roasted vegetables and olive oil and lemon juice—and you’re going to love it!” Calvert says.
“Oh, goody,” says Gabby, 11, a tall girl with a brown ponytail.
Calvert had warned that the class would be “fast and furious,” and she did not lie. Within 60 minutes—from first slice to plating—the group will have created a big, delicious batch of root vegetables and orzo with fresh herbs, plus the dressing Calvert mentioned. The coup de grâce are thin, delicate, cheese crisps, which Redshaw makes with the kids, using finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano. “They taste great,” Redshaw says, “like Cheetos!”
It’s a marked contrast to what’s usually available at the cafeteria, where city schools are reimbursed only $3.43 from the federal government for each lunch they provide. With labor and other overhead costs, the net amount available to provide one school lunch is between $1.50 and $1.75, says Carlton Jones, nutrition administrator for Charlottesville City Schools.
At cooking club, students work with fresh, organic produce and they are learning a lot—new knife skills, the meaning of “chiffonade,” how to juice a lemon, and a special move called the “cat’s claw,” which the chef teaches the kids to reduce the risk of cutting a fingertip while dicing.
“I would say our schools try to do everything we can to expose all of our kids to healthy food choices,” says Krissy Vick, the city schools community relations liaison. She lauds Calvert’s cooking club, while also citing several other programs, including one that sustains vegetable gardens tended by students on school grounds.
After Calvert mixes the vegetables and orzo in a big stainless-steel bowl and adds the dressing, the students line up with plates to be served. Calvert spoons out the meal, and Redshaw doles out the cheese crisps. The young cooks head into the cafeteria to eat. With the oven turned off, the kitchen is quiet now, and the sound of the kids’ chatter filters in.
Calvert dries dishes and straightens up the kitchen. Redshaw gives her a quick hug and bids her adieu.
This was the penultimate class for this group of students (next up: chocolate chip cookies), and Calvert admits in a low voice that she feels a bit sad, knowing that soon she won’t be seeing them every week. “They really are sweet, and so capable,” she says.
She tells the story of one former student whose mother held down three jobs to keep the family afloat. Because of this, she had little time to cook, so the student often prepared dinner. “That’s why I do this,” Calvert says. “It’s a lot of fun, and I love the kids, but the best part is knowing that they leave here with a new skill.”
Throughout the year, I reviewed some reissues (notably Gene Clark’s magisterial No Other and Prince’s colossal 1999). Here’s a few I missed along the way—more to come next time.
James Brown
Live at Home With His Bad Self (UMG)
James Brown returned to play his hometown of Augusta, GA, in 1969, planning to release the show on an album. A few tracks showed up on 1970’s Sex Machine, but Brown shelved the live release, possibly because his band quit shortly after the show (and what a band, including Fred Wesley and Maceo Parker, with Clyde Stubblefield and Jabo Starks on drums). Through old hits like “Try Me” and contemporary singles like “Mother Popcorn,” they take every corner blazingly and flawlessly. Live at Home is indispensable, relentless James Brown. [9.3]
39 Clocks
Next Dimension Transfer (Tapete)
The first two albums by Germany’s unjustly obscure 39 Clocks—the rudimentary and completely cool Pain it Dark (1981) and Subnarcotic (1982)—sound like a missing link between The Troggs and early Jesus and Mary Chain. Here, Tapete collects those releases plus two more ’80s albums and a brief live set—the Clocks’ whimsy is cloaked in surliness but betrayed by titles like “Stupid Art,” “Beat Your Brain Out,” and “Your Prick Makes Me Sick.” [8.5]
R.E.M.
Monster (Craft)
I’ve always had a soft spot for the oft-maligned Monster, so this was a welcome chance to revisit the season when Michael Stipe got steamy in a dozen different ways between sheets of reverberating, fuzzed-out guitar. Scott Litt’s gauzy production matched Stipe’s sensual mood, and the drier remix included here sounds half-baked next to the spacious remaster. The best moments on Monster are the funkier ones—and even the straight rockers are a little funky—but R.E.M.’s signature weird folkie magic had vanished, and a disc of mostly-instrumental demos shows how conventional its songwriting had become. Meantime, a live show from the massive Monster arena tour likewise underscores that R.E.M. had crossed the Rubicon into unnatural habitats, soon to stumble. [7.3]
Ana Mazzotti
Ninguem Vai Me Segurar, Ana Mazzotti (Far Out)
Azymuth
Demos 1973-1975 (Far Out)
Here’s a trio of ’70s Brazilian recordings from the insanely talented, tragically short-lived Ana Mazzotti along with Azymuth, a pioneering quartet that also backed legends like Jorge Ben, Marcos Valle, and Mazzotti, on these, her only two albums. Caveat: they comprise basically the same tracks, tweaked slightly. But either way, it’s all marvelous bossa-jazz-pop, and it’s crazy Ana Mazzotti isn’t mentioned more often alongside Elis Regina et. al. Meantime, the Azymuth demos, recorded at keyboardist José Roberto Bertrami’s home studio, capture a frisky unit building momentum towards its classic 1975 debut. The songs are barely there, but Azymuth’s vibe—somewhere between Bitches Brew and Katy Lied—is fully-formed, and the jamming is furious. [8.5/8.1/8.5]
On Emperor Tomato Ketchup (1996), Stereolab rounded the edges on its experimental impulses while accentuating melody, heavenly vocal harmonies, and groove; the result remains a favorite among the band’s hardcore and casual fans alike. On this reissue, there’s also the billowing, unreleased “Old Lungs”; the honking rarity “Freestyle Dumpling”; and a bunch of demos, which include album tracks plus future releases like the spellbinding diptych “Brigitte,” and which are fascinating. They show both how fetching Stereolab’s basic ideas were—“Les Yper Sound” and “Anonymous Collective” suggest a Gallic Young Marble Giants—and how surefooted the band was in fleshing them out. [9.5]
