Closing the Restaurant: Part 1
So here is the problem: It seems that we have become accustomed to having pretty much whatever we want whenever we want. This means that things have to be done to accommodate those desires and needs. This means that sacrifices must be made. My economics teacher used to call them "opportunity costs". To have one thing, you have to give up another.
When I talk about closing the restaurant, I am not talking about closing Winnie Mae's doors. What I am talking about is closing the loop of waste and exploring the opportunity costs of the things we are considering.
I once worked at a restaurant in the very fertile Santa Clara area. We prided ourselves on the fresh, seasonal fair. Lettuce came from farms right over the hill in San Jose. There were times when we had to hold up service because the boat with the tuna or the day boat oysters was late getting into the dock. Servers went to the table and were sure to tell the guests that everything but the wine was in its natural state less than 24 hours before.
It never failed, though. There was always that person who, in February, wanted a tomato in their salad, or their omelet or whatever and could not understand when we told them that we didn't have tomatoes. The winter tomato is not a big deal, but it is going to cost. A lot of the restaurant industry is based on anticipation and expectation. The chef puts up a menu and people come in wanting some semblance of what they see. The problem for the chef is really a simple one. He or she has to anticipate the guests' wants and cater to those expectations but also manage those expectations. "Here is what I have and what I can make for you from it." Nothing new, right?
The problem with the winter tomato is the fact that so many things have to happen for it to get to your plate. It has to be anticipated by the chef. It has to be advertised because we can't just sell one or a dozen. To keep the costs to the customer down we need volume otherwise, one winter tomato would cost $30. So, we need lots of winter tomatoes. We need to pick them while they are green and ship them from Central America or where ever where they will turn red while in transit.
We are trying to close the restaurant. The weather is pretty nice here, so why not look at how to extend the growing season all year round? There is no doubt in my mind that I can still be growing tomatoes and lettuce in February. When I say I, I do mean me, personally.
We are entering an age of the completely artisanal provider. Do we have what it takes?
Part 1...Starting from the bottom.
One of the most interesting things that we have found from people who are insistent about knowing where their food comes from is that they do not want to know where their food comes from. One of my favorite recent movies is The Martian. In it, Matt Damon grows potatoes on Mars using his own poop as fertilizer. I was fascinated by this, others not so much.
At its very core, producing food is about things that people consider disgusting. We do not want to think about what manure is, We want to sanitize everything that we possibly can. For a lot of things that is not a bad idea, but we have to admit that the soil that our food grows in is and should be a little gross.
Starting with our soil, we compost everything that we can. We do not use large vats and containers of
fertilizers. One of the hardest workers on our farm is the black soldier fly and more specifically the larvae of the black soldier fly.
They eat all of the food scraps that they can find, create great compost, and are a healthy, protein rich feed for our chickens. As an added bonus, the adults do not even eat and really do not hang around humans.
This is where all of our plants start and where everything that is not consumed ends up. These are things that we think about when we think about how our food is grown. We think about worms and black soldier flies more than we think about the kindly farmer we see at the market. We think about these things when we think about the way our animals live. The things that gross us out are where our soil starts and where our soil starts is where our plants grow, etc. etc.
In the coming weeks and months as we get Winnie Mae's up and running, we hope to bring you some very interesting and amazing things about where your food comes from and why.
You can follow us on twitter at @thelifecoop
You can find us on Facebook
When I talk about closing the restaurant, I am not talking about closing Winnie Mae's doors. What I am talking about is closing the loop of waste and exploring the opportunity costs of the things we are considering.
I once worked at a restaurant in the very fertile Santa Clara area. We prided ourselves on the fresh, seasonal fair. Lettuce came from farms right over the hill in San Jose. There were times when we had to hold up service because the boat with the tuna or the day boat oysters was late getting into the dock. Servers went to the table and were sure to tell the guests that everything but the wine was in its natural state less than 24 hours before.
It never failed, though. There was always that person who, in February, wanted a tomato in their salad, or their omelet or whatever and could not understand when we told them that we didn't have tomatoes. The winter tomato is not a big deal, but it is going to cost. A lot of the restaurant industry is based on anticipation and expectation. The chef puts up a menu and people come in wanting some semblance of what they see. The problem for the chef is really a simple one. He or she has to anticipate the guests' wants and cater to those expectations but also manage those expectations. "Here is what I have and what I can make for you from it." Nothing new, right?
The problem with the winter tomato is the fact that so many things have to happen for it to get to your plate. It has to be anticipated by the chef. It has to be advertised because we can't just sell one or a dozen. To keep the costs to the customer down we need volume otherwise, one winter tomato would cost $30. So, we need lots of winter tomatoes. We need to pick them while they are green and ship them from Central America or where ever where they will turn red while in transit.
We are trying to close the restaurant. The weather is pretty nice here, so why not look at how to extend the growing season all year round? There is no doubt in my mind that I can still be growing tomatoes and lettuce in February. When I say I, I do mean me, personally.
We are entering an age of the completely artisanal provider. Do we have what it takes?
Part 1...Starting from the bottom.
One of the most interesting things that we have found from people who are insistent about knowing where their food comes from is that they do not want to know where their food comes from. One of my favorite recent movies is The Martian. In it, Matt Damon grows potatoes on Mars using his own poop as fertilizer. I was fascinated by this, others not so much.
Starting with our soil, we compost everything that we can. We do not use large vats and containers of
fertilizers. One of the hardest workers on our farm is the black soldier fly and more specifically the larvae of the black soldier fly.
They eat all of the food scraps that they can find, create great compost, and are a healthy, protein rich feed for our chickens. As an added bonus, the adults do not even eat and really do not hang around humans.
This is where all of our plants start and where everything that is not consumed ends up. These are things that we think about when we think about how our food is grown. We think about worms and black soldier flies more than we think about the kindly farmer we see at the market. We think about these things when we think about the way our animals live. The things that gross us out are where our soil starts and where our soil starts is where our plants grow, etc. etc.
In the coming weeks and months as we get Winnie Mae's up and running, we hope to bring you some very interesting and amazing things about where your food comes from and why.
You can follow us on twitter at @thelifecoop
You can find us on Facebook
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