Seven thousand pounds. That is the final tally on this year’s grape harvest, and the quality is the best we have seen, so we are genuinely excited about what this vintage becomes. Last year’s is still asleep in oak barrels down at Carr Winery and should be ready for bottling in about six months. In the creamery, I made my first provolone this week. It was not a perfect effort, but made me realize how similar it is to making mozzarella, which may well make it a favorite regardless. The calves are fully weaned now at almost six months, so we are bringing in around fourteen gallons of milk a week. Big plans are needed for that much milk.

Baby lambs arrive in a few weeks, so the goat mamas and their babies move up to the dairy this week, and if I can get my act together their milking station will be built in the next few days.

One more thing I just recently read: the US lost ten percent of its farms in the last five years. Every box you order helps keep one of them going, and we do not take that lightly. Thank you. This week your oyster mushrooms come from Mahealani Farms in Carpinteria, and the purple cabbage, red bells and honeynut squash from Tutti Frutti Farms in Lompoc, both certified organic neighbors.

— Margo & Baby Coraline

Ingredients

• Oyster mushrooms: 8 oz, torn into strips
• Green beans: 1/2 lb, trimmed and halved
• Kale and Swiss chard: 1 bunch, stems removed and chopped
• Chives: 2 tbsp, chopped
• Garlic: 2 cloves, thinly sliced
• Olive oil: 3 tbsp
• Butter: 1 tbsp
• Lemon: juice of half
• Salt and cracked pepper to taste

Instructions

1. Tear the oyster mushrooms into strips along their natural grain.
2. Heat 2 tbsp of the olive oil in a wide skillet over medium-high heat until it shimmers.
3. Add the mushrooms in a single layer and leave them alone 4 minutes, until the edges are crisp and golden.
4. Add the green beans and cook 5 minutes, until bright and blistered, then add the butter and garlic and cook 1 minute more.
5. Add the kale and chard in batches, tossing until each handful wilts.
6. Off the heat, add the lemon juice and the chives. Season and serve warm.

Regenerative farming isn’t a trend for us. It’s the operating system of the land—an agreement with this ridge, this soil, this sunlight—that what we take must be returned with care, intention, and a sense of stewardship that stretches far beyond a single harvest. Healthy soil grows healthy food, and healthy food grows healthy humans. Everything begins there.

On these windswept acres above the Pacific, we farm without disturbing the soil. No-till isn’t just a technique; it’s a reverence for the microscopic universe beneath our feet. Intact soil holds life the way a good book holds a story—with structure, mystery, and endless potential. By keeping our soil undisturbed and never leaving it bare, we protect the networks of fungi, microbes, and minerals that feed our crops long before we ever harvest them.

Biodiversity is our compass. Instead of monocrops, our fields unfold like a mosaic—flowers tucked beside vegetables, herbs bordering fruit trees, cover crops threading between them. These living patterns invite pollinators, build resilience, and buffer the land against the wild swings of weather that now shape modern farming.

Our animals move through these landscapes as co-farmers. Sheep, cows, llamas, goats, and chickens rotate through our fields, adding organic matter, eating weeds, stirring fertility back into the land. Their presence keeps our soils breathing and alive, closing the loop in the most ancient way.

Because we are certified organic, our fields never see synthetic pesticides, herbicides, or fertilizers. Instead, weeds are managed with rolls of cardboard and generous layers of mulch—slow, natural, and deeply effective. The result is soil that’s richer every year.

And regeneration isn’t theoretical here. It’s measurable. Our practices help sequester an estimated 150,000 tons of carbon and 4 million gallons of water, quietly repairing what industrial agriculture has broken.

This is the work that nourishes us. This is the work that nourishes you. And this is the work that keeps the land extraordinary for generations to come.