After more than a decade of helping high schoolers learn the ins and outs of planting and plowing, Charlottesville High School Urban Farming has gone commercial.
The successful program, launched in 2013, isn’t changing its focus on the intersection of agriculture and entrepreneurship. But it is upping the ante by selling its wares. While the program has served hundreds of students over the years by letting them dig their hands in the soil and raise animals, the produce and flowers grown along the way were always donated or used at the school. This past April, for the first time ever, CHS Urban Farming hosted a plant sale.
“We came from very humble beginnings,” says Peter Davis, who’s directed the program for the last seven years. “We were just an after-school club. We fixed up a small garden behind the school that had been neglected for a couple years.”
The course next transitioned into an elective for students with special needs before becoming what it is today: a full-credit class offered as part of CHS’s career technical education track. Offered in two parts, students can go through the program over consecutive years and earn two credits.
Currently, CHS Urban Farming has six sections and 72 enrolled students. According to Davis, there’s a waiting list to get in just about every year.
Davis says the course focuses primarily on marketing, as most students who go through it don’t end up as farmers. “Farming is a business,” he says. “That entrepreneur mindset is important, and a lot of people go that route.” Along the way, students also learn to grow crops and do some carpentry.
CHS Urban Farming has had a livestock component for most of its history, with students currently tending to 11 chickens. The cluckers “are pretty spoiled,” according to Davis. Students take turns bringing eggs home, and the chickens are part of the farm’s ecosystem, with waste crops and weeds going into their feed.
With seasonal produce growing all year round, Davis and students typically plant their summer crops before school lets out. The next semester, newly enrolled student farmers return to school to peppers and tomatoes, and later greens and carrots, ready for harvest. Flowers and herbs are a consistent part of the cycle, as well.
Seedlings are available for purchase on the CHS Urban Farming website to supplement the program’s burgeoning commercial component. “The bread and butter as far as the marketing and business side is the plant sale,” Davis says. “Our first public sale was a smashing success.”
After years of marketing the sale only as an exercise, CHS students made $3,500 in their first go at actually selling plants. “I think that was definitely a proof of concept for us,” Davis says. “It made the case for a bigger and better sale next year.”
On the heels of the success, Davis believes the CHS Urban Farming program has a chance to be self-sustaining in the years to come. He thinks he and his student teams can earn at least $10,000 with a bigger marketing push.
Money, though, has never been what teaching kids to farm is all about, according to Davis.
“The thing I love the most is getting notes from parents or former students,” he says. “One parent emailed me pictures of a garden their kids had installed on their own. I think kids walk away with a great understanding of a lot of things, be it business or agriculture or construction.”
Southern Development Homes turns 25 this year, and on June 14, the company’s founder and president, Frank Ballif, won Distinguished Builder of the Year from the Home Builders Association of Virginia. Ballif, who prefers to avoid the spotlight, recently spoke to Abode about Southern Development’s longevity, giving back to the community, and the future of C’ville housing.
Abode: What’s been the key to your long-term success?
Frank Ballif: Every year is different, so I don’t want to make too many bold assumptions about the future. I think one of the most challenging time periods was the Great Recession. That was not easy to make it through, but the key was lots of longstanding relationships with our trade partners. This community is a wonderful place to live and has a high quality of life. The University of Virginia is a huge factor in that it makes a lot of people want to come back and stay here until retirement. But this community, in general, has grown slowly. It’s been 1 to 2 percent over a long period of time, even through the recession. Getting approved neighborhoods is probably the largest challenge for anyone in this market.
But that challenge has its benefits.
For sure, and Southern Development has never been focused on rapid growth. We’ve been focused on finding the right neighborhood projects that meet a demand and working with the community to make them a reality. We build around 100 homes per year. One of the things we do that not everyone does is we develop and build—not always, but a lot of the projects where we are most successful are infill neighborhoods. Those present a lot of unique challenges.
How long have you been tied to this community?
I came here in 1996 to go to UVA, graduated in 2000, and have never left. Southern Development Homes started in 1999; I actually built my first home before graduating. One of the things that helped me get my start was an internship with a local developer, Dr. Charles Hurt. Through that, I got to know the greater community and saw where I could be a part of it.
What drove you into residential building specifically?
I was always interested in construction and land development, so my civil engineering major was right on target. And I have always liked residential construction because you are entrusted to produce most people’s largest and most personal investment. Residential construction is relationship-based construction. We’ve used the same trade partners over the years, and you get to know a lot of people—a lot of very interesting people.
What are some of the ways you give back to the community?
I’m on the advisory board for the Salvation Army Charlottesville. One of the things I love about the organization is they are one of the only local organizations providing overnight housing for those in the community most in need. Anyone who has been in Charlottesville the last few years has seen that need grow. One thing that we are working on is a plan for a major expansion of the Salvation Army, which I am enthusiastically supporting. With my volunteer time, I want it to be as impactful as possible. Homes for Hope is another, very different organization that raises funds for entrepreneurs living in poverty all over the world. We built a house for Homes for Hope that closed in April of 2020 and raised more than $200,000, which they anticipate will help thousands of families.
Is it important to you to tie your philanthropy to your profession?
Yes and no. We’ve done some very special projects for other organizations that our company has worked with; we support the Building Goodness Foundation, for example. For me, personally, I’m a Christian and very active in my church. When I look at local charity organizations, the ones that are the hands and feet of the people they serve are the ones I am attracted to. We also support Meals on Wheels and Habitat for Humanity. The Salvation Army does a lot of service that is not focused on housing. In general, I’ve just tried to focus our company’s charity efforts on impacting those most in need. The takeaway is, we are part of the community and value it, and part of that is participating in projects that do the most good.
You said you don’t like to make bold predictions, but maybe one or two?
In our business, we do have to plan pretty far into the future. For a lot of projects, we could work for 10 years before they become a reality. So we have a lot of communities in the pipeline that are hopefully coming in a couple years. One of our big concerns is trying to help create a mix of housing. Affordability is a major concern for everyone. But this is a great area, and I think it should continue on its slow growing path.
Mel Walker wasn’t much for reporters. He was a busy man. When asked to go on the record—about his chicken, one of his trendy new neighbors on West Main Street, or C’ville soul food in general—he’d offer a look that was one part “I don’t have time for that” and two parts “you’ve never written about me before; why now?”
From the other side of the counter at Mel’s Cafe, the folks Walker had time for were his family, his friends, and his diners. Indeed, many of Walker’s regular diners became his friends over the years.
Walker’s death on May 28 due to still-undisclosed causes has brought with it an outpouring of emotion from Charlottesville’s Black community and beyond. It has brought with it a celebration of a legendary local life.
But it has also brought with it many questions about the future of a restaurant that has long stood as both a community gathering place and a symbol of local African Americans’ tenuous hold on their space in a changing cityscape.
“It is a staple for the Black community,” says Tanesha Hudson, a close personal friend of the Walker family who refers to Walker as her “uncle” but is not related to him. “To be there for 39 years, to make it this far not leaning on any type of help from … grants or anything, that is why it is so important. We are fighting for a space in this city. We fight for a space here, and we shouldn’t have to fight. Mel gave us that space.”
The past, the legacy
Hudson says Mel’s Cafe is the “only Black business located on Main Street,” and, while it’s not entirely true, it’s close.
According to the United Way of Greater Charlottesville’s 2023-2024 Black Business Guide, five other Black-owned businesses have a West Main Street address: First Baptist Church, Davenport Strategic Innovation, York Property LLC, The Pie Guy, and The Ridley. Additionally, Ty Cooper’s Lifeview Marketing & Visuals is headquartered at 513 East Main.
Another two dozen or so of the 141 Black-owned businesses in the United Way guide are situated within about a mile of Mel’s, but none of them are the type of sit-and-stay-awhile draws that the cafe was. And the volume of Black-owned businesses in the former Vinegar Hill area of town is certainly not what it once was.
“We don’t have much, and what we do have, we want to maintain,” Hudson says. “We are being run out of this city.”
The history of Vinegar Hill has been told and retold, but here it is again: According to the “Brief History of Vinegar Hill” published by Vinegar Hill Magazine, the neighborhood that was bordered on the south by Main Street, home to Mel’s Cafe for nearly four decades, became the economic center for Charlottesville’s Black population in the early 20th century. Segregation was still a way of life, and businesses in the Vinegar Hill neighborhood were a respite for patrons of color.
History suggests the strength of the area helped Black people overcome some of the challenges they faced across the larger City of Charlottesville. Many of them struggled with poor living conditions—including a lack of running water, indoor plumbing, and electricity—but Vinegar Hill was a place to band together, to meet and greet, to discuss problems and plans. Vinegar Hill Magazine says “residents lived and worked among their homes, schools, and churches in a close-knit community, [with] over 55 of the homes and businesses in Vinegar Hill owned by African Americans at that time.”
In 1960, the City of Charlottesville voted to redevelop the Vinegar Hill area. According to Urban Renewal and the End of Black Culture in Charlottesville, Virginia, a book on the area’s oral history, the vote was stacked against Black people.
The book’s authors, James Robert Saunders and Renae Nadine Shackelford, suggest that one of the issues plaguing the neighborhood was the inability of restaurants to stay open. And the balance of the area’s structures, mostly Black-rented residences and a handful of other businesses, had fallen into disrepair.
The neighborhood was razed in 1965. “By the time the demolition part of urban renewal had been completed … 29 businesses had been disrupted,” Saunders and Shackelford write. “They consisted of Black restaurants and grocery stores, as well as furniture stores, barbershops, antique shops, an insurance agency, a clothing store, a shoe repair shop, a drugstore, and a hat-cleaning establishment.”
The city’s highly touted redevelopment project was slow going, though, and it wasn’t until around 20 years later that it gained momentum. A centerpiece was the Omni Hotel, which opened on May 1, 1985, the year after Walker opened Mel’s Cafe at 719 W. Main St.
The man, the food
Melvin Walker was born on August 24, 1954. His parents, Marie Walker Scott and Arthur Morrison, lived in Vinegar Hill. According to an obituary first published in the Daily Progress, Walker graduated from Lane High School in 1972. He is survived by his mother, two children, two brothers, and three sisters.
Reports indicate Walker started working in hospitality at a young age, most notably at The Virginian. He opened Mel’s Cafe in 1984 when much of the former Vinegar Hill area remained underdeveloped. The cafe was conceived as a traditional diner, but a slow start made him shut down after several years. He reopened and stayed open in 1995. According to some accounts, Walker initially served beer, wine, and liquor, but the late nights weren’t to his liking, and though he’d remain open for dinner as long as he owned the place, booze came off the menu.
In addition to diner staples like breakfast plates and hamburgers, Walker cooked the cuisine that he knew. Mel’s Cafe quickly came to be known as the top spot for soul food in Charlottesville.
At Mel’s, everyone has their favorite. For Hudson, it’s the hamburger steak with grilled onions, keep the sides coming: extra green beans, mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, pinto beans. Shaun Jenkins, who recently moved his own Soul Food Joint from Market Street to Rio Road, was partial to the fried fish when he moved to C’ville in the early 2000s. “In high school, I ate that a lot,” he says. “That fish sandwich was definitely on point.”
Local top chef Melissa Close-Hart, whose latest project Mockingbird is an homage to her own southern cooking roots, says Mel’s is the ultimate comfort food, just the stuff to eat when you’re feeling down. “It’s a Charlottesville institution, and it is really kind of the only place like that here,” she says. Her Mel’s order? Much like Hudson’s: hamburger steak with gravy and onions, mashed potatoes, green beans, rolls.
For others, Mel’s was the joint for its cooked-to-order fried chicken, Meta’s burger with swiss on rye, or sweet potato pie.
Ask anyone about their favorite dish, though, and they’ll offer a side helping of their own—namely, that Mel’s Cafe was about more than just the food.
Mel’s was about Walker’s mom working the house with a smile and a hug. It was about the regulars discussing events of the day over the low drone of a TV tuned to sports. It was about Walker himself, a quiet, confident type who remembered your name if you came in enough, usually offered a smile, and always reveled in cooking folks a meal with love.
Reverend Alvin Edwards of the Mount Zion First African Baptist Church, located just a few blocks from Mel’s, says he always enjoyed Walker’s cheeseburgers and fried pork chops, but what he’ll remember most is the man’s kindness. “One of the things I could do was, I could ask him to feed a hungry person for us,” Edwards says. “He would run a tab, and sometimes he would call on it, or sometimes he wouldn’t. But he would always make sure the person had a full meal. I was appreciative of his trust.”
Jonathan Coleman, a longtime Charlottesville resident and acclaimed author of multiple books, including Long Way to Go: Black and White in America, developed his own unique relationship with Walker from his regular seat at Mel’s Cafe. While dining on patty melts or fried chicken, the author developed a cross-racial bond with Walker that he cherished.
“The greatest sadness, for me, is that Mel and Mel’s were an essential part of the scaffolding of Charlottesville without a lot of people knowing it,” Coleman says. “For me, Mel’s was so successful not only for the consistency of the food, but for the fact that you could count on the owner being there. It is all part of being recognized as somebody who belongs there. Mel’s gave you that.”
The place, the people
The only thing you couldn’t count on at Mel’s Cafe, according to Edwards, is a seat. “You had to know how to beat the crowd,” he says. “It was just a meeting place, period.”
In the wake of Walker’s death, his family hasn’t answered repeated requests for comment, and for good reason. Hudson says they’re grieving hard; people need time when faced with the unexpected death of a man like Walker.
That hasn’t stopped other folks from talking. On social media, he’s been called “an icon and a pillar in our community that will never be replaced.” In nearly a dozen articles about his passing in various outlets, his friends have told of how much he was loved, how no one ever had anything but good things to say about him, and how he “shared love with the community, no matter who you were.”
Walker’s funeral was held on June 8 at First Baptist Church on Park Street. The restaurateur had been a longtime parishioner at Pilgrim Baptist Church, but the larger space at First Baptist was needed to hold the crowd.
Hudson organized a block party outside Mel’s Cafe after the funeral. It, too, was flooded with attendees. “The community just came out to show love. That is what it is about,” Hudson says. “I’m not surprised at all that it turned out the way it did, because Mel has done so much for so many people.”
Coleman says Mel’s Cafe just worked as a place to sit, talk, and share a meal. He and Walker bonded over Motown music, he says, but The Temptations rarely played in the diner. “Some places don’t lend themselves to constantly playing music,” Coleman says. “I always had mixed feelings in that I wished that I saw more white people in there. That is not necessarily what Mel cared about one way or another, but the idealistic part of me always wished that more people would see it as a gathering spot through the medium of food and conversation.”
Jenkins, who as a young person didn’t get to know Walker over his fish sandwiches, says that even if you didn’t go to Mel’s, you knew who the restaurant owner was. You knew of his impact on the community. “He will never be forgotten,” Jenkins says.
The community, the future
Walker’s family has made it clear, despite avoiding the spotlight: They want to keep Mel’s open. The restaurant is posted as closed until further notice, but an online fundraiser titled “Help Keep Mel’s Cafe Open” is doing well. As of June 17, 140 donors had given $9,788 to the campaign.
One concern for continuing the legacy is the lack of Walker’s own outsized personage. Coleman notes that many mom-and-pops like Mel’s Cafe struggle after they lose their founder, their heart and soul.
Hudson refutes previous reports that she said the restaurant would definitely reopen, but she bristles at the suggestion that Mel’s couldn’t go on without Walker.
“I really don’t want to think about it like that,” she says. “The family has to make that decision. I would think that because it is such a cornerstone, after they deal with the grief, it will reopen. Mel has children. He has family, and his family knows the restaurant.”
None of Walker’s children, nor his mother, could be reached for comment. His oldest son, 19-year-old Emoni Brock, is listed as organizer on the GoFundMe.
Another option for the future of the diner would be to find a buyer. Close-Hart, who’s always wanted to run a restaurant called Mel’s, says she has too much going already. Jenkins says he’s thought about some possibilities, as well, but doesn’t want to offend the Walker family.
“I’m not doing too much investigating or searching. I’m leaving it up to God,” Jenkins says. “People got to keep on pushing forward, and I hope someone is able to step up and keep it rolling.”
Williams, too, says he hopes for the best. But, like Coleman, he wonders whether anyone is in position to carry on Walker’s legacy.
Hudson thinks of Mel’s Cafe as an imperative.
“When you have someone work so hard to maintain Black space in this city, you hope and pray someone wants to maintain it and hold onto it,” she says.
They say everything moves slower in the islands. But that does not include chef Jonathan Wright Jr., who’s been serving Caribbean fusion out of his 434th Street restaurant and catering group since 2020. From his first jobs in fast food, to early mornings at City Market, to long days in a manufacturing plant, Wright’s been on the move since he was a teenager.
The hard work paid off on January 7, when he officially launched his Caribbean concept in a permanent Dairy Market location. Last month, the chef took some time out of his busy day to tell Knife & Fork all about the move, his family’s culinary traditions, and what’s next.
Knife & Fork: How has business been in your first few months?
Wright: It’s been really consistent for the last five weeks. I’ve seen some great new faces along with my regulars from the last three years. I started this concept at the City Market in 2020, right in the middle of the pandemic.
Where were you before that?
For the past 20-plus years I’ve been in a lot of kitchens around Charlottesville. I started when I was 14 or 15 in fast food restaurants and just worked my way up the charts. After fast food, it was Red Robin and Ruby Tuesday. Then I moved to Farmington Country Club and Boar’s Head. Then in 2019, I took a job in advanced manufacturing at Emerson. I was succeeding in that, but it got slow, and I was laid off.
That’s an impressive resume.
I’m mostly self-taught, but there were most definitely some great people along the way. The other piece of my background is that my grandmother was the head chef at Martha Jefferson House in the ’80s and ’90s. She also worked at a restaurant called La Hacienda in Charlottesville. According to some people, she was the first woman head chef in any kitchen in town. She died in 1990, three years before I was born, but we always had that family tradition of gathering in the kitchen—from her and from my other grandmother.
What got you into Caribbean food?
I was born and raised in Earlysville. My dad’s side is from West Virginia, and my mom’s is from here. I saw that we didn’t have that type of cuisine here, and I knew I was capable of cooking it well. Caribbean flavors and cuisines inspire me. I love traveling to the Caribbean, and every time I go I discover something new. I took the Caribbean main dishes and a lot of the curries and island spice and incorporated that with Southern American side dishes like mac and cheese and greens. That’s where the “Virginia twist” on my sign comes in.
How does the Dairy Market scene compare to what you had been doing?
It’s actually the same type of setting but with no 4am wake up calls and a parking lot. The move wasn’t really in my plans, but people wanted it. Demand was high, people got familiar with the food, the catering grew, I contracted with UVA for some things and met a lot of good people there. Everyone kept asking: “When are you going to have a location?” Dairy Market reached out and wanted to know if I wanted to be a vendor. We had a nice sit down, I cooked some food, and they loved it. But yeah, it’s a great environment. This is my first place, but they treat me like I am home. The owners and other vendors have greeted me with nothing but love and respect.
What are some of your favorites and bestsellers?
The seafood dishes—those are my favorite. The coconut curry seafood platter consists of whatever fresh fish I have as far as market price and availability. Right now, it’s red snapper, which is pan seared with shrimp and crab cake, mixed with the coconut curry sauce and accompanied by the island rice. But the number-one seller is oxtail. I’ve run through about 140 pounds of oxtail in a six-day week, and that was during the slow season. People also love the jerk dishes.
How is the oxtail prepared?
We season the oxtails and marinate them overnight, pan sear them, then after that, we slow braise them in the oven. Then I make a nice savory coconut gravy—a brown gravy with coconut and pineapple. They go absolutely perfectly together. That’s served with plantains and red beans and rice.
What’s the future look like for 434th Street and Chef Wright?
I’m very passionate about what I do. This is just a bonus; the thing that built the company the most is the catering. We did six weddings last year and want to do more this year, but it’s sporadic. At the Dairy Market, I have a staff of four, one full-time and three part-time. They’re all from different nationalities, genders, and ages. They have so much versatility. We’ve become a really strong team.
Katharine Brooks developed her craft at some of the biggest art houses in New York City. Then, after the fine-art expert and her husband moved to Charlottesville 11 years ago, she took time off to raise a family. Now, she’s back with a new solo venture: KNB Art Advisory.
C-VILLE Abode: What made you start your own firm?
Katharine Brooks: I’m originally from Guatemala, and I was a Latin American art specialist at Christie’s. That’s where I was truly introduced to the art world. You’re exposed to so much incredible art and so many collectibles. I was meeting collectors and going into their homes, appraising art and helping them build their collections. I had always thought of art as something you see in a gallery. Seeing the way people live with art and how it added to their life lit a fire inside of me.
What do you tell your clients about buying art?
Regardless of your budget, there should be meaning around you. Life is short; instead of buying a poster, you should surround yourself with artwork that means something to you personally. Some people think that art is just for millionaires. But there are many local artists that are doing fascinating things that are affordable. As a collector myself, sometimes I am investing in artists, but sometimes I just buy pieces because I love them. I think there is this mysterious fear in the art world. But if I can help people find artists they love, I know it can add a great amount of joy to their life. It’s a passion project. I get excited when I find something that has meaning for someone else.
Is art a good investment?
I think it is challenging. There are always options by well-established artists that have a record of auction prices. What can be tricky but incredibly lucrative is finding new artists. The problem is new artists come out and sell at auction and then plummet in value. If you are coming to art purely from a financial point of view, you need to see the full auction record, but you also have to be aware that auction houses will estimate works at a lower value than a gallery will sell them. And, flipping art is not really favorably looked upon.
The transition from New York to Charlottesville must have been difficult.
It was really hard to give up my career and life, but we wanted to raise a family—the classic conundrum. I was at the epicenter of my career. I was doing appraisals in Jack Nicholson’s home and selling art to Oprah. I’m not trying to say I’m anything special, but I had this passion. By the time we launched around May of last year, I had already started helping friends and acquaintances with their personal art collections.
What makes KNB Art Advisory unique?
I am trying to be more personalized. I don’t want to be married to one artist. As much as I learned from the gallery setting, I didn’t love having inventory that I felt like I had to sell. I want to find the right thing for the right person. There are more artists now who are not marrying themselves to one gallery or rep, as well.
What do you say to clients who are unsure of their own taste?
I think that is the most challenging thing. It is so personal. I have one client who only likes to collect works that were painted in the year they were born. I have another client that has a thing about red hats. She wore one as a little girl, and it became this iconic thing. If I ever see anything with a red hat, I shoot it over to her. For my own taste, I love abstract works. And I think sometimes landscapes are easier to live with in your home. But I also think the beauty of art is that there is no wrong. Anything can be art. What is the first thing everyone asks you when you are a child? “What’s your favorite color?” And that’s a good place to start. Everyone has that innate feel for what they like. No one needs to answer to why they like something.
What’s the best way to start your art collection?
I would say staying local. That is the most comfortable way. You can meet the artist, and most artists are willing to do studio visits. You can see their process, the materials they use, and examples of their work. It gives you a personal connection.
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.”
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.
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
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
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
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.”