Hey Portland, Oregon, Hey Long Beach, Washington:
I write you this love letter from an old tea plantation in Sri Lanka. It’s September and you may just be coming out of your Feast hangover. Don’t worry, Wild About Game is just around the corner and if you let the party happen- it will.
I’m sorry it took me a while to share some of my favorite moments of you. My job sometimes sucks— I have to hustle every moment to find a way to tell what i see as the most amazing things about food in our world- while trying to keep the lights on. Maybe it’s time I just use the hammer and nail to fashion a mobile shack that i can carry around like a turtle?
Anyways, I’ve been drinking for the last 6 hours and likely have another 6 to go. (Not to mention 3 days of traveling to get from the highlands in Sri Lanka to Darjeeling in India). The sun is setting over Lover’s Leap in the Nuwara Eliya tea making region, painting traces of pink and grey and a smokey blue, which just reminds me; I need to roll a cigarette.
The story of this tragic high peak has been sold to me a few ways but sums up as such: Forced marriages that tore true lovers apart climbed this mighty peak to leap to their deaths in protest.
My life on the road can sometimes feel like an arranged marriage. Don’t get me wrong; I live it and I love it. But it's starting to make a gal feel a bit as though she leaps away from her love every time she leaves as though in protest.
Those traces of evergreen, grey, and smokey blue- you, Pacific Northwest- I sure as hell do miss you when I go.
Fuck it, I’m having a smoke. Just watch the episode.
Hi, I’m Original Fare. No, my name is Kelly, but sometimes I confuse the two. I have this obsession with knowing where our food comes from. The origin story of ingredients.
I’m not sure where this obsession started. Maybe my first trip to Provence where I gained ten pounds because I’d never experienced food like that before: in Saint-Remy we bought the olives at Wednesday’s market, in Aix it was the little shops that make tomato confit, in Cassis it was the crisp white wines to accompany our moules et frites. Or maybe it was my years working in environmental non-profits where I learned how interconnected the food we eat is to the health of our land. It was also the beginning of a huge movement of “green washing”, where suddenly companies were touting things like “all-natural” and “organic” when the products they sold were anything but. Or maybe it was even further back than that. Growing up in a small farming community, population 200, where Sunday brisket came from the butcher down the street and weekends were welcomed by homemade apple turnovers from the general store owner. My obsession could also be attributed to watching both of my parents go through cancer and my need to feed them food I could trust.
In 2011 my husband/business partner Lucas and I moved our production company from Brooklyn, NY to Laguna Beach, CA. With the last 5k in our struggling business account, I had the wild idea to film my adventurous obsession. So we packed all our belongings in a U-haul towed by my brother Jake (who also worked with us) driving his Kia Rio, and we set out on a great cross country adventure together. We woke before dawn in frost bitten North Carolina to feed baby goats and make cheese with a charming septuagenarian couple. We candied pecans in the back of a classic hotel restaurant in Little Rock, Arkansas before being taken around the city to see the urban farms growing shiitake mushrooms. We migrated through the varicose veins of back road Texas all while towing our few possessions behind us. In Marfa we walked the barren desert in search of our sanity and the best homemade burrito.
I had no allusions that this would be anything more than a passion project, yet here we are three seasons later with PBS as our distributor and more syndicates to be announced. I get to work with companies and people I believe in, like: Dave's Killer Bread, Pacific Natural Foods, Alaska Seafood, Goat Cheese of France, and so many more.
It’s just Lucas & I these days on the road, proving you don’t need a bunch of bells and whistles to create something like this. You just need some technical expertise, the right kind of gear, and to be thoroughly, relentlessly, and wildly obsessed. I hope you join me on this adventure.