Charlottesville winemakers Matthieu Finot, Damien Blanchon, Stephen Barnard, Jake Busching, and Tim Gorman celebrate at the Monticello Wine Week golf tournament. Supplied photo.
The Monticello American Viticultural Area won Wine Enthusiast’s Wine Region of the Year award at the end of 2023, and according to Brantley Ussery, it was not only for the area’s juice, but also for the squeeze.
“The things that Wine Enthusiast really liked about our region is the approach, our inclusivity,” says Ussery, director of marketing and public relations for the Charlottesville Albemarle Convention & Visitors Bureau. “We’re trying to dispel the myth that wine needs to be enjoyed in a certain way. There are no right or wrong ways.”
Making high-quality wine is a prerequisite for the prestigious magazine award, according to Wine Enthusiast’s published criteria. And the local AVA, which includes about 40 wineries in and around Charlottesville, impressed the publication’s judges with its range of award-winning bottles, including classic Bordeaux varieties, carbonic chenin blancs, and more obscure petite mansengs. The judges also praised the region’s “place in American wine history” and the collaborative nature of local winemakers. “We’re not as cutthroat as some other regions,” Ussery says. “They all share tips and tricks.”
To be clear, Ussery and his organization actively pursued the award, establishing a relationship with Wine Enthusiast over several years, including as a paying advertiser. But lest folks think Charlottesville had an inside track to the honors, consider the competition. Two of the five finalists, announced last December along with our area’s AVA, were Provence, France, and Lambrusco, Italy. The other two were up-and-coming South African and Australian regions.
The Monticello AVA, which encompasses Charlottesville and Albemarle County and is referred to simply as Charlottesville in Wine Enthusiast’s promotional materials, was the only North American finalist for the 2023 award. The magazine has bestowed top wine region honors since 2003, with winners in Abruzzo, Italy, Sonoma County, California, and Champagne, France.
According to Tracy Love of Blenheim Vineyards and the Monticello Wine Trail, Ussery and the CACVB deserve significant credit for elevating the Charlottesville wine region into the conversation with the other finalists. Now, the region is looking to capitalize on the award during its annual Monticello Wine Week, which runs from April 26 to May 3, and includes two rosé-focused events, one banquet each for red and white wines, a sparkling brunch, a golf tournament, and a celebration of the Wine Enthusiast award.
“It is pretty shocking that of all wine regions in the world, they chose us,” Love says. “But we believe we have the opportunity to be the most diverse wine region in the world. We don’t have a lot of laws or traditions or standards telling us what we have to do, and I think that’s really appealing to people … just being able to experiment and figure out what works.”
According to Love, Monticello wines made a splash at this year’s Virginia Governor’s Cup, where the best wines in the state compete for the podium. With Wine Enthusiast’s national recognition, it’s like the region has been “pushed off the diving board,” and Love reckons it’s an opportunity for local wineries to jump to the next level.
For one thing, they can continue to focus on adapting to climate change, another reason Wine Enthusiast named the local AVA the best in the world.
“It’s forced the wineries to adapt. Some are going to hybrids, and everyone is kind of reevaluating the vinifera,” Love says. “It’s an emerging wine region, and the wines get better year after year.”
For more information about Monticello Wine Week go to monticellowinetrail.com.
ou bought your house in 2021 with a 30-year fixed-rate mortgage at 2.5 percent interest. You sure were proud of yourself as you watched interest rates skyrocket over the past two years.
Now, you’d like to move. But with that honey of a mortgage, you start thinking. Maybe you want to rent out your existing home rather than sell it.
Buy-sell decisions are complicated and unique for every homeowner. But at least one local real estate expert says it’s pretty much a no-brainer, even in today’s economy.
“We almost always encourage folks to sell,” says Brentney Kozuch of Story House Realty. “Most people want to sell so they can tap into their equity.”
Still, Kozuch admits certain circumstances could make an owner consider becoming a landlord—at least in the short term. First, the real estate market has cooled since its red-hot streak a few years ago, due in part to the rapid interest rate hikes. Average 30-year fixed mortgage interest rates in Virginia were around 7.5 percent at the turn of the year, up about 300 percent from those historic lows around 2.5 percent. Those scary mortgages are keeping some prospective buyers on the sidelines. And with most industry analysts projecting that rates will soon begin to decline, some sellers are indeed electing to hold on to their properties.
Still, the macroeconomy offers no guarantees.
“From everything that we are seeing and hearing, interest rates will drop,” Kozuch says. “But that may not be in the spring. It might be something that doesn’t happen until the third quarter.”
Second, life circumstances can dictate outside-the-box real estate strategies. Folks planning a wedding, for example, might be looking to generate cash flow without tapping into their equity. Maybe the professional opportunity to be a landlord is just too interesting to pass up. Or perhaps the tax benefits of being a landlord suit your 2024 plans.
Third, seasonality drives many housing market considerations. “In winter, buyers have more purchasing power versus in the spring,” Kozuch says. “But, prices have not dropped in our area. Charlottesville is unique compared to the surrounding counties. Prices have stayed level and even peaked in some places.”
For homeowners trying to decide whether to wait to sell, the strong market might be a reason to unload now. But even in a relatively hot market, historical trends show sellers will be able to get more out of buyers as the weather warms.
The reality, according to Kozuch, is that most homeowners aren’t in a situation where they can rent out an existing property and move into a new home to their liking. Most folks looking to move want an upgrade, and the equity in their home is simply a must-have as they go on the market as a buyer.
Indeed, homeowners who bought in 2021 with a mortgage at 2.5 percent are likely to have some chunky equity. “At the end of the day, they want that equity, and in just two or three years, some people have doubled what they bought their house for,” Kozuch says.
Such an equity surplus can even help new buyers balance out the hit they’ll take on today’s elevated interest rates.
“Once interest rates have settled to 5s and 6s, it’s not going to be as daunting or scary,” Kozuch says. “But if you have that 2.5 and you have the ability to rent the home out, it can be a great investment. It’s hard for the seller to give that up. We are never going to see 2s or 3s again.”
Dark chamber cabaret group Please Don’t Tell will host The Spirit Ball with Charming Disaster, Nouveau Vintage, and DJ Cadybug on Saturday at the Southern. Photo by Tristan Williams.
Sea shanties seem to have had a moment. Could dark chamber cabaret be next?
If so, Charlottesville’s Please Don’t Tell will likely help lead the macabre movement. After all, the three-piece band kind of made the genre up.
“I think that because we come from varied … but classical backgrounds, chamber music and our kind of salty, quirky, offbeat cabaret elements just came together,” says Christina Fleming, Please Don’t Tell’s founding member. “We have a range of themes, from introspective and difficult things that have happened to us to tributes to women in history.”
Fleming, a haunting vocalist and playful pianist who’s been a longtime Charlottesville music scene fixture, started Please Don’t Tell as a duo, alongside Nicole Rimel on cello and backing vocals, in 2020. After violinist Anna Hennessy joined for a single live show on a dark night in 2021, the trio stayed together. On March 1, they released their daunting debut recording, a six-song eponymous EP.
Fleming and Rimel were music majors together at the University of Virginia, and the sound Please Don’t Tell produces today—essentially period show tunes with a focus on the frightening and subtly naughty while still being fun—“just kind of came out,” Fleming says.
That’s not to say Please Don’t Tell is without influence or precedent. But the dark cabaret lineage heard from Tom Waits, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, and Kurt Vile lacks the instrumentation, attitude, and commitment to recreating an 1800s aesthetic that Please Don’t Tell offers.
“There is sort of a sea shanty vibe to the storytelling. It’s slightly Brechtian,” Fleming says. “We’re always trying to come up with fun ways to make it more theatrical.”
When the band plays its Spirit Ball and record-release party on March 9 at the Southern Café and Music Hall, the trio will do so against the backdrop of a fictional ball that took place in the late 19th century. “On Saturday, March 9th, 1889, 200 attendees at the The Grand Benefit Ball believed themselves in for an evening of fancy dress and the latest music,” a press release from Please Don’t Tell reads. But they “instead reportedly disappeared without trace, orchestra and all.”
What makes Please Don’t Tell so dastardly yet delightful? The lyrics focus on struggles both internal and historical, while the music lends an irreverent obscura to these trials and tribulations.
“I started writing some of these songs a long time ago, when I didn’t know how to cope with certain things,” Fleming says. “It was just me writing at a piano, and it helped to be able to laugh at the harder moments in my life. It makes us resilient as humans to be able to find the absurd in the difficult.”
Fleming didn’t think anyone would hear most of the tunes, so there was no real intention of making them public-ready. Then Rimel joined her college friend for private jam sessions—just two music nerds having fun with a piano and a cello.
Hennessy’s violin added the finishing touch to the troupe, which laid down its first professional recording at Fatback Sound in Nashville with Gabe Rabben, and local Sons of Bill alum Sam Wilson, on production. Noticeably absent a proper percussion section, the record skips and hops on piano rhythms with Wilson’s keen handling of Please Don’t Tell’s aesthetic.
“They recorded us like a true chamber group, all in the same room,” Fleming says. “We had a lot of fun; Sam and [Rabben] were wonderful to draw into what we wanted to do. Actually, trying to find the right fit and person took some time. We wanted someone who understood our flexible, organic, quirky nature, while also being narrative.”
Fleming says her and Rimel’s love of the morbid comes from being longtime “goth kids.” Fleming drew on the affinity in her locally renowned former band In Tenebris, an alt hard-rock outfit with an undead edge. But working with Please Don’t Tell is the first time she’s made her own, truly original music.
Hennessey brings yet another influence to the bawdy ballroom with a background in bluegrass. And all three of Please Don’t Tell’s musicians come from impressive musical training—Rimel and Fleming at the hands of UVA’s music department, Fleming now being a vocal instructor, while Hennessey is the orchestra teacher at St. Anne’s-Belfield.
The Spirit Ball will feature New York-based mystical folk duo Charming Disaster and synth pop two-piece Nouveau Vintage, in addition to Please Don’t Tell. For the dark chamber cabaret portion, showgoers can expect to hear the vignette-like tracks they’ll find on the band’s first EP, including the earwormy “Nearsighted,” ruefully lullabying “My Therapist,” and jaunty “Heave Ho.”
Will any of those tracks be the next viral hit a la Nathan Evans’ 2021 version of “Wellerman”? Perhaps, if the spirits wish it so.
Guitar virtuoso Sunny War performs her critically acclaimed music in a solo show at The Front Porch on February 16.
Sunny War is on the phone, and there’s a long pause. It’s not unexpected—not even awkward at this point. Pauses are more common than flowing conversation with the experimental singer-songwriter.
But this pause is different. This time, War’s answering a question about her mental health, and the pause is alarming. So, too, is her eventual answer. “I think I’m okay. But probably not. I’m not going to kill myself or anything,” she says. Then she makes her decision: “I’m okay.”
War, who will play a solo show at The Front Porch on February 16, has been public about contemplating suicide in the past, specifically while she was working on her latest album, Anarchist Gospel, released in early 2023. She says songwriting has been an outlet that’s helped her through hardships over the years, including a terrifying teenage battle with methamphetamine and heroin addiction.
“I just write about whatever I’m thinking about at the time, I guess,” War says in her soft, halting way. “They are kind of like little therapy sessions for me. I guess if there is anything uplifting in them, it’s because I am trying to find something uplifting for myself.”
There is indeed something uplifting, even empowering, in War’s songs. And after more than two decades of songwriting experience—she says she’s been at it since she was little more than 7 years old—the eclectic guitarist and vocalist is drawing national attention to her unique blend of folk, blues, gospel, and punk rock. Rolling Stone called her “one of the best new voices in roots music” after Anarchist Gospel’s release; an L.A. Weekly critic said he hadn’t “heard a young guitarist this dexterous and ass-kicking in eons.”
War’s songs have their share of sadness, for certain. She calls the famously melancholic Elliott Smith, who died in 2003, one of her primary influences, and says she wrote Anarchist Gospel’s “I Got No Fight” to battle back suicidal thoughts.
But when the Nashville native and current Chattanooga resident plays Charlottesville, listeners will hear more than just another singer-songwriter fighting depression. They’ll hear soaring, hopeful numbers. They’ll hear driving, confident takedowns of associates gone by, ethereal explorations of what it means to be human.
They’ll also hear a style of guitar play so unique it can only have come about by the joyous happenstance of youth. According to War, after phases in which she was obsessed with blues rock and then ’70s and ’80s punk, she started listening to Dave Rawlings and Gillian Welch. It was 2001, the movie O Brother, Where Art Thou? had planted roots music back in the national zeitgeist, and War’s parents brought home Welch’s Time (The Revelator). The young guitar player was entranced by the album’s string parts. She wanted to emulate them.
“I didn’t really realize there were two people playing, so I was trying to play both of their parts,” she says. “That ended up being the foundation of my style.”
As War matured, she studied that two-part style intently. She self-released her first full-length album, Worthless, in 2015. She really began to find her voice on 2018’s With the Sun, followed it up with Shell of a Girl the next year, and won acclaim for 2021’s Simple Syrup, all three of which were distributed by Hen House Records.
Prior to launching Anarchist Gospel, War moved back to Nashville from Los Angeles and signed to New West Records. She teamed up with producer Andrija Tokic, who’s worked with Alabama Shakes and Langhorne Slim, among others. Together, they solicited abundant guest vocals by some of War’s idols (Rawlings), friends (Allison Russell), and collaborators (Chris Pierce)—not to mention My Morning Jacket frontman Jim James.
Despite Anarchist Gospel’s vocals-heavy vibe, War considers herself a music writer first. Fitting the meter of a song to existing lyrics, she says, rarely works. “It’s all about rhythm, how many words you can get in ‘this’ amount of time,” she says. “But I also need it to be symmetrical—songs are symmetrical—and even.” Indeed, War says she never wanted to be a singer. As a 7-year-old, playing guitar was her singular obsession.
Wrapping production on Anarchist Gospel, War got bad news. Her brother called and told her the siblings’ father was dying. She went to Chattanooga, driven by Tokic himself, to be with her dad in his final days.
Now, just over a year after releasing her latest LP, War guesses she’s played more than 200 shows. She says she’s exhausted. How does she get over the exhaustion and find inspiration to keep going? “I don’t,” she says.
Still, War has reason to look ahead, with two projects in her sights. In April, she’ll be featured on My Black Country: The Songs of Alice Randall, alongside Rhiannon Giddens, Adia Victoria, and others. And by that time, War says she’ll hopefully have been working on another full-length record for about a month.
If you or anyone you know is experiencing suicidal thoughts or a mental health crisis, please call or text the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. It is free, confidential, and available 24/7.
Alicia Walsh-Noel met Wilson Richey under difficult circumstances. She was part of the team opening Brasserie Saison in 2017, and it was a cutthroat crew. “Upper management was a toxic boys’ club,” Walsh-Noel says. “The restaurant industry can be a very cruel place, and Wilson was someone that really stood up for just the smallest person in the group.” Over Brasserie’s first year and a half or so—the now-closed restaurant’s golden era by all accounts—Walsh-Noel fought against other partners to keep her job. Some of the boys’ club wanted her fired. Richey did not. “He always had my back,” she says.
As the situation became untenable, Richey offered Walsh-Noel other positions in his multiple restaurants. It was a managerial tactic he was known for: going to bat for people, moving them around until he found the right place for them to thrive.
Walsh-Noel was inclined to take one of the jobs. Her health insurance was through Richey’s restaurant group, Ten Course Hospitality, and she was pregnant. She had been doing marketing and communications for Brasserie, so in what she calls a “moment of survival,” she asked Richey if she could do PR for the group. He agreed immediately, and Walsh-Noel’s firm, Do Me A Flavor, was born.
Wilson “Will” Richey died in a single-car accident at 1:21am on December 12. The Albemarle County Police Department reports that first responders were dispatched to the 1300 block of Owensville Road at the time, and 47-year-old Richey was pronounced dead. Reports indicate the prolific restaurateur was not wearing a seatbelt while driving home from one of his restaurants, Duner’s, when his vehicle entered a skid and crashed into an embankment. He left two children, a large extended family, numerous friends, and restaurant connections throughout the region.
In the six weeks since Richey’s death, the Charlottesville food community has come out in force to support the man who has been called their “Captain,” “the most beautiful soul of a poet you would ever know,” “the sharpest restaurant eye around,” and “a character from a Wes Anderson movie.” But what will be Richey’s lasting impact? In the process of owning or consulting on more than a dozen restaurants while leading Ten Course, the entrepreneur impacted hundreds of folks in the community.
“When rock stars die, sometimes you ask, ‘When is the last time they produced anything good?’” says Tavola co-owner Michael Keaveny, who met with Richey often to talk shop. “But with Wilson, he had all these concepts. What we are losing is this creative, open mind where anything was possible. We’re losing those concepts that were swirling in his head and his amazing ability to bring them to fruition.”
The early years
Will Richey helped found The Wine Guild of Charlottesville in 2008. Photo by Ashley Twiggs.
Architect Stephanie Williams met Richey, like so many others, over a wine glass. The two oenophiles were part of a blind tasting group, became close friends, and hatched a plan to work together.
“He came over to my house and said, ‘I have this crazy idea,’” Williams says. “Little did I know it would be the first of many crazy ideas.”
The idea was to create a sort of approachable but high-end wine club, a place to drink great vino among friends in leatherback chairs surrounded by dark-grain wood and a rustic, old-world aesthetic. The result was the lasting Wine Guild of Charlottesville. For nearly two decades, the bottle shop/bar/club has brought fine wines both imported and domestic to Charlottesvillians.
During the succeeding years, Williams’ relationship with Richey grew and changed. As a friend, he became one of her closest. As an architect, she worked on design for The Alley Light, Richey’s groundbreaking French small-plates destination, and various other projects, and eventually joined the team that would launch Ten Course’s Högwaller Brewing in 2023.
Richey’s interest in wine grew and changed over the years as well. Virginia winemaker Jake Busching, who became one of Richey’s closest friends around the fire pits for which the restaurateur was well known, says his pal “wasn’t a big advocate for Virginia wines.” But while Burgundy remained Richey’s true love of the wine world, he came around as local wines improved with time.
It was an outlook that Busching says Richey brought to all his projects. “The two of us had a common no-time-for-bullshit philosophy on living,” Busching says. “I think that is what people saw: He had all this positive energy, but he never glossed it over with anything. He saw things for what they were and spoke his mind.”
Today, the Wine Guild is operated by another close Richey consort, Will Curley. Curley, “the other Will,” moved to Charlottesville from Chicago by way of Richmond in 2016. His wife, Priscilla, went to work for the Keavenys (Tami Keaveny is a C-VILLE editor) at Tavola, and mentioned her husband was looking for a job as a waiter. Michael Keaveny hooked Curley up with Richey, the two men bonded over a certain intoxicating beverage, and Curley was slated for a position in the soon-to-open Brasserie Saison.
While he waited for the new restaurant to clear its final hurdles, Curley did odd jobs around the Ten Course portfolio. He bar-backed at The Whiskey Jar. He hosted during lunch at the Bebedero. And he got to know Richey.
“He and I really clicked over a love of good service,” Curley says. “He was the best at ambience and setting the vibe. His ideas were all backed by these massive Pinterest boards. He knew exactly what he wanted a place to feel like and look like and taste like.”
Growing up
Richey learned to make Revolutionary Soup in 1998 before purchasing the business in 2005. Photo by Erik Kelley.
If any single concrete symbol is most connected to Richey, it’s fire. It comes up in conversation with nearly everyone who knew him well. According to Williams, “it was rare for Will not to have a fire.”
“There were many evenings in our early relationship sitting around a fire pit,” the designer says. ”Almost all meals would retire to the fire. If there was a restaurant where Will could have a fire, he did.” At The Alley Light, Richey installed a fireplace for gathering. At Café Frank, a Scandinavian stove offered fire’s respite. He cooked over live fires outdoors as often as he could.
It was around a fire that Richey, along with Busching, came to know Eddie Karoliussen, a real estate agent who helped expand the Ten Course restaurant empire. Busching and Karoliussen came together almost weekly at Richey’s fire pit, where they discussed life’s big questions both personal and professional.
Reflecting on Richey’s business strategy, Karoliussen says his friend always wanted to own the buildings in which he ran restaurants. It was a key part of his go-to market strategy: Own the space, install experienced people to run the concept, launch, guide, move on to the next project. Sometimes, Karoliussen was still researching spaces when Richey had turned his eye to another project.
“He loved to create—that was truly his passion,” Karoliussen says. “And he would always find the right people.”
In March 2016, when Richey and Ten Course partner Josh Zanoff (who passed away in 2022) opened The Bebedero, a Mexican cantina striving for true authenticity, he recruited former Whiskey Jar bartender River Hawkins to run the drinks program. Hawkins was fresh off a year-long stay in Mexico, and brought a deep understanding of agave-based spirits like mezcal and tequila.
A Bebedero co-owner, Hawkins hopes to continue Richey’s love of hospitality at the downtown restaurant. Richey’s death “was a devastating loss—he was a good friend of mine beside being my partner—but all his businesses were put together with talented people,” Hawkins says. “Wilson was kind of the backbone, but he was more the wise mind behind things. He wasn’t necessarily always there working.”
The Future
Friends gathered at Högwaller Brewing for a taste of Ode to a Nightingale, the Richey tribute beer, whose artwork was created by Will Smith (pictured). Photo by Eze Amos.
The restaurants in Richey’s circle aren’t likely to crumble after his death. Hawkins isn’t the only colleague who reckons the restaurateur put the right infrastructure in place to ensure continued excellence at Revolutionary Soup, the Wine Guild, The Whiskey Jar, The Bebedero, Duner’s, and the newest Ten Course restaurant, Högwaller Brewing—not to mention the many spots for which Ten Course offered consulting or formerly held ownership stakes, such as The Alley Light, Café Frank, and The Pie Chest.
Richey’s brother, Brett, declined comment on the estate but is reportedly handling the restaurant portfolio, in addition to having created a crowdfunding campaign to support his brother’s two children.
Karoliussen says Richey’s latest restaurant, the beer and smashburger concept known as Högwaller Brewing, may have been the one with the most enduring legacy, ripe for an expansion model. But that, like the many unrealized concepts tumbling around Richey’s one-of-a-kind mind, will likely never happen.
“Will was the glue that held everything together, and I can’t imagine another Will out there,” Karoliussen says. “So, with Ten Course, to be honest, I don’t know what is going to happen. Our number-one goal is to take care of the children and do what is best for them, and Brett is such an incredibly smart person that he will do everything possible to make all of that work.”
So many other people impacted by Richey will likewise continue to make it work: Curly at the Wine Guild, Williams and her design firm, Hawkins at The Bebedero, employees and acquaintances innumerable. For Walsh-Noel, whose PR firm has seen its roster of clients reach as many as 19 over the five years she’s been in business, the job may be more difficult. And personal.
“I never studied to wake up one day to be the PR person for a dead man,” she says. “What I will remember about Wilson was that he was always doing these ridiculously quaint things. When we were opening Brasserie, he was always walking around with this wooden mallard for no reason. He would stroll down the mall in his little professor outfit, holding the mallard. He was just delightful.”
In honor of musician and poet David Berman, WTJU's first dedicated endowment, The David Berman Memorial Fund, will be earmarked to support student experiences at both WTJU and WXTJ. Photo by Aaron Margosis.
Kylie Wright spent a lot of time with late indie rock icon David Berman while they were students at the University of Virginia. They both hosted radio shows in WTJU’s not-so-coveted 2 to 6am slot. His: “The Big Hair Show.” Hers: “Jane Fonda’s Blackout.”
But when asked about her time with the poet and singer-songwriter, the first story that comes to Wright’s mind is set in the university’s library. The two aspiring musicians were studying one day when Berman decided to use the library’s suggestion board. “How would you improve the library?” the board queried. “More bass,” Berman answered.
Several days later, library staff responded: “We’re more ‘trout’ people.”
“David saw that and said, ‘My work here is done,’” Wright says. “He could really be a very funny person.”
Since Berman’s suicide in 2019, the media has focused much on the former Silver Jews frontman’s demons. He was a reclusive loner, they report, tormented by self doubt and addiction.
Back at UVA, though, Wright remembers how communal the budding lyricist’s energy was. WTJU was a fraternity/sorority for their friends, she says, and the group’s creativity worked in pure synergy.
It’s that sort of synergy that WTJU will try to perpetuate with its recently announced David Berman Memorial Fund, the station’s first dedicated endowment. According to WTJU General Manager Nathan Moore, the fund will be earmarked to support student experiences at both WTJU and WXTJ—much like those transformative programs Berman and his friends enjoyed in the late ’80s.
“Our mission is to bring people together through excellent music conversation,” Moore says. “We’ve been doing that for decades and decades.”
During his time at UVA and WTJU, Berman crafted the logophilic artistic approach that made him and the Silver Jews—founded alongside Stephen Malkmus and Bob Nastanovich of Pavement fame—influential for years to come. Berman was always as much a poet as a songwriter, painstakingly crafting lyrics for the Silver Jews, and later Purple Mountains, that reflected humanity’s greatest weaknesses and insecurities. His one collected work of verse, Actual Air, drew perhaps even more acclaim than did his song lyrics, with many critics praising the poetry’s blunt wit and absurdist take on American life.
When UVA alumnus Andy Stepanian approached Moore about starting an endowment, they agreed a fund in Berman’s name would be a perfect fit. “As a student, I tuned in to WTJU because it was always a place to hear alternative music,” Stepanian says. “I still have cassette tapes of some WTJU programs I recorded back in the early ’90s.”
Stepanian and his wife Liz provided the seed gift to start the memorial fund, but Moore says the station wants the legacy to go further. Additional donations, which the Stepanians will match through the end of summer 2024, will be required to maintain the program.
In the past, WTJU’s summer student internships have mostly been unpaid, something Moore says is inequitable—reserved for those who can afford to forgo income for three months. Indeed, many publicly funded radio stations, including NPR, have done away with their internship programs, citing their high cost.
With further donations, Moore says WTJU can continue to provide the kind of experience that let Berman, Wright, and their friends nurture their creativity, engage in the arts, tell stories, and learn the technical side of the music and radio business.
“It’s a privilege that can launch people into fantastic lives and careers,” Moore says. “This will help us grow the program and sustain it and perhaps expand it.”
Before he died, Berman was planning a Purple Mountains tour. Wright had tickets to see the band in Philadelphia. She emailed Berman to let him know she’d be there, and he responded with a promise not to do what he always did after shows: disappear. The next day, she heard the news of his death.
“I remember writing at the time that we lost the best and brightest in our group,” Wright says. “I think he had been fighting for years, and the strain of the upcoming tour was too much.”
Moore says he didn’t know Berman when he was alive, but he’s a fan of his music, lyrics, and voice. And he’s gotten to know more about him by meeting friends like Wright. The portrait is one that so many have come to know—the outsider, the disrupter, the sometime anarchist. But it’s also a portrait of an artist who embraced both people and creativity in all their forms.
“I used to listen to his show. I would come hang out sometimes, and we all kind of fed off of each others’ musical interests,” Wright says. “The media would try to build him up as this sort of brooding poet, and in actuality, it was about having his tribe around him. I just feel lucky that I was in the right time and place in history to have met David. I miss him all the time, but I’m glad his memory is being kept alive and that this is going to help young people in music.”
Chris Humphrey’s been in a lot of kitchens around Charlottesville, and soon he’ll add a new venture to his list: Seafood spot Bonny & Read, in the former Brasserie Saison space, will serve up surf and turf. Photo: Eze Amos
Chris Humphrey has paid his dues in local kitchens. So when he and restaurateur Stefan Friedman officially open their new seafood spot Bonny & Read, he’ll have earned the right to call the shots.
Humphrey has experience writing menus going back at least a decade to his time as executive chef at Rapture. But there have always been restrictions to his reign. Even when he bought Fellini’s and installed himself as executive chef in 2017, he “had to do Italian.”
Other career stops have been at Maya, Bizou, Metropolitan, Brasserie Saison, and The Whiskey Jar. That last, a soft landing space offered by friend and restaurateur Wilson Richey after Humphrey’s Brasserie travails, ended up being a shorter stay than he’d expected. Just months after going to work at the Jar, Humphrey began talking to Friedman about a concept the chef had been thinking about for 20 years: casual, modern Mid-Atlantic seafood. And just weeks after they started talking, Humphrey had a new job.
According to Humphrey, one reason the timeline was short was the need to jump on the Downtown Mall space Friedman found for the restaurant—namely, the one vacated by Brasserie Saison. Friedman, who bought Ace Biscuit & Barbecue earlier this year, saw in the old Brasserie dining room an opportunity to expand his own growing restaurant group, which he’s branded A Moveable Feast.
Bonny & Read held a soft opening for friends and family in mid-November, but Humphrey and Friedman aren’t ready to announce a formal opening date. According to Humphrey, when they do open, patrons can expect something other than “your classic seafood place,” with a local beef program running alongside features like flounder and crab.
“It’s not a raw bar,” Humphrey says. “A lot of seafood places don’t have many non-seafood options. Being on the Downtown Mall, we want to offer that.” Humphrey points to Public Fish & Oyster to help position Bonny & Read. “They do what they do really well,” he says. “There’s no need for us to replicate that.”
Humphrey, who’s been known over the years for creative southern dishes like Rapture’s Hillbilly Egg Rolls and Fellini’s Pimento Cheese Ravioli, said he’ll be true to his roots at Bonny & Read. Going down-coast to the Mid-Atlantic means he can capitalize on ingredients from below the Mason-Dixon and serve dishes like butter bean hummus, she-crab soup, and whole roasted fish.
“Really what we are trying to do is modern-feeling but recognizable food in a casual setting,” Humphrey says.
Humphrey promises the libations at Bonny & Read will be wine-driven but also feature craft cocktails. He and the Moveable Feast team have made some changes to the Brasserie Saison space, but “it was set up for success.”
In addition to the lack of creative restrictions, Humphrey hopes his latest career move comes with some much needed stability. During his three years at Brasserie, he engaged in a public exchange over lack of payment by ownership; that, followed by the quick in and out at The Whiskey Jar, have been difficult.
One upshot is Humphrey and Friedman are content to take it slow with Bonny & Read. Humphrey says Moveable Feast has a few other projects in the works (that he’s not free to divulge), and as Friedman works on those, he’s hoping to set a hard opening date and be cooking at least four days a week by early next year. Humphrey’s in the process of hiring a front-of-house manager, sous chef, line cooks, and bar manager—all the while working on the part of restaurants he loves: menu writing.
“I’ve got this dessert I’ve been playing around with that I’ve never had the right audience for,” Humphrey says. “It’s an old forgotten dessert I discovered 10 or 11 years ago—think key lime pie but made with lemon, and instead of graham cracker, it has a slightly-sweet saltine cracker crust.”
Humphrey’s seen a lot in his decades as a Charlottesville chef, and he says he’s hopeful for the future—and not just his own. He sees the restaurant industry continuing to improve and other kitchens around town bustling.
“You know, the last couple of months, I haven’t done a lot of cooking,” he says. “I’m sort of out of the loop, but all my friends keep telling me how tired they are ‘cause they’re so busy. I think Bonny & Read can fill a spot that needs to be filled downtown. There are a lot of great restaurants and variety, but I think we’ll be unique.”
The Wich Lab’s Aris Cuadra says his CODE Building spot is a chance to flex his culinary muscles. Photo: Tristan Williams
Aris Cuadra’s been racing around the local restaurant scene for more than a decade, from The Clifton to Tavola, Pasture, and Cafe Bocce. But these days, he’s content just to loaf.
That’s right, the Puerto Rican native went all in on sandwiches when he opened the Wich Lab in the CODE Building a few months ago.
“I’ve been a chef my entire adult life,” Cuadra says. “I wanted to do something simple using great ingredients and my experience as a chef.”
At the Lab, that means carefully crafting hot and cold sandwiches running the gamut from the traditional to the outside-the-breadbox. Cuadra’s got classics like Reubens, Cubans, Italians, and chickens, but they’re all done his way. The one-time New York City chef prides himself on technique—little things like making sure his buns are always buttered and toasted just so.
Cuadra says the Wich Lab’s Reuben is popular, along with his breakfast sandwiches and the best-selling Gobble Gobble, featuring turkey, bacon, avocado, everything spread, tomato jam, and arugula on homemade focaccia. Cuadra buys ciabatta and rye from Albemarle Baking Company; the focaccia is his chance to flex.
The Wich Lab’s Cubano is a Tampa take, with salami added to the traditional toppings and grilled focaccia providing the base. Cuadra makes bread every day, but he says day-olds are actually better for the pressed sandwich. “I’ve had people say it was the best sandwich they’ve ever had in their life,” Cuadra says. “That’s not my goal, but it’s nice to hear.”
One change Cuadra’s already made to his menu is eliminating stuff he thought he had to have. And while the obligatory vegan option got the hammer, the Lab still cooks up an off-the-wall vegetarian option with charred broccoli, pine nuts, pecorino cheese, potato chips, roasted garlic aioli, and pickled cranberry.
“We had a group of older people come out, and they were blown away with potato chips on a sandwich,” Cuadra says. “I have fun with menu writing. I’m creative in every aspect of what I do, from menu writing to the menu itself, the atmosphere, the music.”
This guy loves sandwiches, and he posts to tell you about it. Follow the CVille Sandwich King
on Instagram
@cvillesandwichking. Photo: Tristan Williams
The self-anointed CVille Sandwich King would rather not tell you his name. But he’s happy to tell you—not to mention listeners to his “Sandwich Minute” on WTJU and 1,000-plus Instagram followers—where to get a good sammie.—Shea Gibbs
Knife & Fork: How did you ascend to the local sandwich throne?
CVille Sandwich King: I’ve lived here for four years—I came down from northern Virginia. I’m originally from Philadelphia, a great spot if you like sandwiches. So when I moved to northern Virginia, I thought sandwiches were kind of a blindspot. I would be frustrated by people willingly eating at Subway. My affinity for Charlottesville sandwiches started in 2006 when I visited my girlfriend (now wife, known as the Queen on Instagram) and tried a different Littlejohn’s sandwich on each visit. When we moved here, I started trying other places and keeping a diary. My wife said, “You should start a food Insta.” I kind of rolled my eyes but started doing it, mostly as a joke. Then it gained momentum.
How often do you eat sandwiches, and how do you choose?
I don’t go out as much as I’d like, but recently as I’ve gained more followers, I’ve tried to keep them coming. I try to get out twice a week, once during the week and once on the weekend. If you look at my feed, there are places I go time and again for convenience—a lot of Dürty Nelly’s and The Market at Bellair. I’ve also started to get inbound recs from people.
What are your favorite local sandwiches?
One place that I think is just incredible is Chickadee. They make their own brioche and these amazing hoagie rolls. The steak frites is sort of a glammed-up cheesesteak: shaved beef, sharp provolone, caramelized onions, garlic aioli, and demi glace, then they take these thinly fried potatoes and call it a “nest.” Another one—La Michoacana. They have a bunch of tortas, and I love the classic Torta Michoacana; it’s steak, chorizo, and smoked sausage all on a huge roll. At Dürty Nelly’s, my favorite is the Blue Ridge, with roast beef, beer cheese, bacon, lettuce, tomato, mayo, and horseradish on a kaiser roll. I guess I’m a steak and beef kind of person. Oh, here’s a tip: Mona Lisa Pasta has some really good sandwiches, and most people don’t think of it.
I see you go to Bodo’s often. What’s your order?
I love Bodo’s, but who doesn’t? I had a follower recommend what’s become my go to: a breakfast bagel with pastrami. Pastrami didn’t register with me at first for breakfast, but I guess it’s just another fatty meat. The way they do it—I think they put it on the flattop—it comes hot and charred a little. I get the pastrami with a deli egg and cheddar on everything, but I mix it up from time to time. If you like breakfast, Multiverse Kitchens has a pancake sandwich that’s sort of a gourmet McGriddle, and I love the tasso ham biscuits at JM Stock.
Know of any healthy sandwich options?
I don’t know if they’re healthy, but for healthier sandwiches, I try to eat some vegetarian options. Greenwood Grocery has a sandwich called the Beauregard with grilled sweet potatoes and kimchi on sourdough with cilantro-chili spread. It’s super delicious and not one of those vegetarian things where you’re still hungry afterward. I’ve only been to Botanical Fare once, but I had the chickpea “tuna” sandwich, and it was really good. I don’t naturally seek healthy options out. If I’m in that mood, I just pop for a salad.
You’re from Philly. Any good cheesesteaks around?
There are a few places that call sandwiches “cheesesteaks,” but they’re not what we would call a cheesesteak. The one place that does it is Lucky Blue’s Bar; they basically do what we call “Whiz with”—just beef, grilled onions, and Cheese Whiz on an Amoroso’s roll. But honestly, I don’t like to be a guardian of the cheesesteak. I can appreciate something outside the traditional.
What is it about sandwiches?
For whatever reason, sandwiches seem to sort of shape a lot of people’s perceptions of a geography. They give them a culinary connection to where they live or where they’re from. With sandwiches, there’s this appreciation and connection that people have with one another, and I don’t know why that is. But every time I post, I have people message me and say “you should try this” or “get it this way.” People just want to chat about sandwiches and connect.
CroZeli Sandwich Shop takes inspiration from New Orleans sando spot Turkey and the Wolf, but the resulting creations are all the brainchildren of owner Chase Rannigan. Photo: Eze Amos
When Mason Hereford opened Turkey and the Wolf to widespread critical acclaim in the city of New Orleans, it was like a butter knife to Charlottesville’s back. It was like Dave Matthews saying he got his start in Nashville.
Hereford, a Charlottesville native and University of Virginia graduate, has won scores of awards for his playful Big Easy sammie shoppe. Charlottesville, meanwhile, couldn’t score a fried bologna sandwich stacked with potato chips (Hereford’s specialty) to save its life.
Until CroZeli Sandwich Shop opened on August 14.
Service industry lifer Chase Rannigan and his wife Paige created CroZeli with the intention of doing “fun takes on classic sandwiches with well-sourced ingredients.”
“Mason has set the bar. I would never compare myself to him—he has a James Beard Award,” Rannigan says. “He was definitely on my radar when we were opening. That was the inspiration for a lot of the menu.”
Rannigan, who’s done stints at Pizza Bella, Shebeen, Fardowners, and private catering outfits, got the James Beard part somewhat wrong. Hereford was a 2019 semi-finalist, not a winner. But he’s getting the whimsical sandwiches part totally right. That starts with CroZeli’s bestseller, the Turkey Crunch, featuring turkey, provolone, shredded lettuce, potato chips, pickles, onions, and dill aioli on a sub roll, and folds right into the Italian Fried Bologna, with mortadella, provolone, shredded lettuce, mustard, mayo, and—you guessed it—potato chips.
“The menu is fairly small, but we’ll revise it and add stuff, look at the numbers and see what has sold and what hasn’t,” Rannigan says.
The limited menu is by design. Rannigan and his wife decided to open CroZeli when they saw the old Morsel Compass space in Crozet come available. The building had suffered a flood and was gutted, but the remaining facilities were serviceable. A small, seasonal sandwich list is the best way to use the space, Rannigan says.
CroZeli keeps it interesting between menu changes with inventive specials. One of the most popular was a chopped cheese with Big Mac vibes. Rannigan’s also done a chicken chopped cheese, a take on a cordon bleu, a turkey Rachel, and a Sloppy Jersey with turkey, Swiss, and cole slaw on marble rye. Apparently, that’s what Jersey folks call a “sloppy Joe.”
“Google it,” Rannigan says. “We couldn’t label it as a sloppy Joe because no one would’ve known what it was.”
Other top CroZeli sellers are the cheesesteak, festooned with both Cheez Whiz and provolone, a traditional Reuben, and a muffuletta with mortadella, ham, salami, provolone, and olive tapenade towered on ciabatta from Carter’s Specialty Breads.
CroZeli also keeps it simple with counter service and no dining room, so your Kitchen Sink with turkey, salami, ham, Swiss, and hot peppers will have to be to-go. “There’s definitely no one else in Crozet doing what we’re doing,” Rannigan says. “We’re a specialty sandwich shop. There’s not really anything to compare it to.”
