Three beloved establishments help define the Harrisonburg food scene
WORDS | Heidi Chaya PHOTOS | Heidi Chaya & Daniel James
Everywhere that I’ve ever roamed, exploring the local food scene has been my favorite way to connect with each place. There’s something about sharing meals with other people that cultivates camaraderie.
Virginia is a nexus of culinary culture. Indigenous populations, European settlers, and enslaved people brought food traditions with them, while making use of the ingredients they encountered here. They sought to cultivate a home through what sustained them, and in turn created a diverse and dynamic cuisine centered around plants — thanks to the Mid-Atlantic’s long growing season.
I moved to the Shenandoah Valley in 2019 from the New Jersey shore. It was getting to know what grew around me that helped me connect with this new, unfamiliar place. Gardening, foraging, and farming all made me feel that this was where I belonged.
My horticultural journey began in 2020, with my “pandemic garden.” I purchased seeds from the Mineral, Va.- based company Southern Exposure Seed Exchange (SESE). SESE highlights open-pollinated, heirloom varieties, many of which came here by way of people transplanted from elsewhere. Often, they’re bred for hardiness — resistance to regional diseases, pests and climate conditions. I’ve grown Old German tomatoes and Bowling Red Okra — varieties that were first developed by families in this part of Virginia over a century ago.
My favorite is the Paul Robeson tomato, a historical microcosm in itself: hailing from Russia, it was named after a black American singer and activist, brought to the US by a female entrepreneur, and introduced to American gardens via SESE’s founder, Jeff McCormack, in 1992. This spirited variety doesn’t mind our fickle mountain climate and produces rich-tasting, beautiful fruits. My partner and I always look forward to greeting the Paul Robeson seedlings that volunteer in our raised bed, and eating the tomatoes sliced with smoked salt in midsummer.
All growers must coexist with the forces of nature. “Even a very small garden … ties you to the natural rhythms of the area that you’re living in,” states Ira Wallace, current owner of SESE. Weather patterns, wildlife behavior, and even what weeds pop up and when are details with which you need to familiarize yourself once you begin growing food. She mentioned one of my favorite weeds — a tiny, tasty, tenacious herb. “When the galinsoga is growing, you know it’s time to plant your fall greens in your garden,” she says.
In fact, it was by regular reading sessions and “plant walks” that I learned about the 50+ edible plants and fungi that grow on our 1.25 wooded acres. My surroundings transformed. Rather than seeing an unfamiliar mess of green, I began to see foods. Friends. Even medicines. The carpet of chickweed, clover, and purple deadnettle underfoot, the sweet-smelling sassafras and spicebush. “It’s like when you’re learning a new language. The world is pointing out everything for you to see,” Wallace concurs. My rugged backyard, so different from where I grew up, became my home.
Nearly any living space can be used to grow food. You need only a sunny window for herbs, or a balcony, porch, or patio for the compact crops. For novice growers, Wallace recommends pole beans — which can climb up a porch railing — shade-loving peas, smaller snacking tomatoes and hot peppers, fast-growing radishes, Egyptian walking onions, ground cherries, peanuts, and even popcorn. She’s also a champion of heirloom collards, which are a southern specialty — and her work with the Heirloom Collards Project exemplifies the importance of preserving rare varieties.
In the springtime, nature starts rolling out so many gifts: tender shoots, early flowers, morel mushrooms, and the tantalizing hints of the warmth and bounty yet to come. There will be sweet fruits in the summer, colorful fall vegetables worth celebrating, and winter greens to brighten the bleak days. Every plant has its time and place, and it can be bittersweet to say goodbye. But we do so with the knowledge that it’s all cyclical; there are no true endings. We will meet again.
I would encourage everyone who eats to get involved with food production in any way they can. Plants are a fun and approachable entry point. I was planning to attend graduate school for food studies, but instead I immersed myself in agricultural jobs to learn hands-on.
“Working with and helping people who are doing it on a large scale is a way to get a lot of experience quick,” Wallace stated. And these people are happy to educate others: “Gardeners are generous, and they share seeds and information with each other readily,” she adds. Growers can contact SESE with any questions they might have.
Purchasing and preserving heirloom seeds furthers food traditions. “Heirloom seeds exist because people have taken something that someone before them thought was important, in a certain area or a certain type of soil. And saving seeds gives you a visceral connection, one season to the next to the people who came before you and the people who will come after you, growing in that area,” Wallace reminds us. I’m moved to see that now, in the garden I started with my partner, the heirlooms and the weeds we love rejoin us each year. We sowed them and tended them, and we are all a part of this place.
As I write this, the garden looks barren and brown. But look closely and you’ll see birds happily gobbling up the energy-rich seeds and dried-up fruits. This is our home. If we nurture it, it will nourish us in return.
This article first appeared in our 2024 Spring Issue, HOME.
Heidi Chaya is a freelance writer and content creator based in the Shenandoah Valley. She works in food media and regenerative agriculture, dividing her time between her home office and the outdoors. You might find her farming, foraging, gardening, hunting, or fishing, and she’s always trying new recipes and techniques in the kitchen.
