EDIBLE NOTABLES

EDIBLE NOTABLES PURE ICE

How one man’s quest to mix the perfect drink led him to his freezer—and how you can recreate what he discovered at home

BY LILY STOICHEFF PHOTOGRAPHY BY MICHELLE MAGDALENA

e key to a truly stellar cocktail may go beyond top-shelf liquors and trendy mixing techniques. In fact, the secret ingredient may be something that is odorless, colorless and tasteless, and easily made at home—ice.

Not just any ice, says Mark Davidson, a software-engineer-by-day, cocktail-enthusiast-by-night. “e secret sauce is pure ice. It makes a clear, clean cocktail.”

If you thought the ice in your freezer was already pure, take a closer look. Little cracks and bubbles on the inside of the cube are evidence of trapped impurities like chlorine, organic compounds and suspended particles which result in opaque, muddy streaks. Not only are they visually unappealing, but these traditional ice cubes melt quickly, diluting a high-quality cocktail with low-quality water.

Driven by a desire to create a perfect gin and tonic, Davidson, a former scientist, had already delved deep into the world of home cocktail-making when a book, Liquid Intelligence: e Art and Science of the Perfect Cocktail, pushed him further down the rabbit hole with a recipe for ice.

e process removes the impurities and gases that are found in water and freezes it by methods that render the result perfectly clear. e ultimate presentation is dramatic, especially when using premium tonic and gin, Davidson says. “If I get it right, it looks like a clear glass of water with a lime, and you can’t see the ice cube.”

To create pure ice at his home in Scotts Valley, Davidson boils a gallon or two of tap water twice to remove chlorine and other basic impurities before pouring the water into an insulated cooler. After the water cools to room temperature, he freezes the water in the cooler, lid open, for 36 to 48 hours.

In a traditional ice cube tray, which is not insulated in any way, cold air hits the water from all sides, which pushes impurities towards the center of the cube. As the ice freezes and expands, mini-explosions shatter the center of the cube, creating the telltale white center. e pure ice method uses directional freezing, with cold air cooling the water from one direction. As the water freezes from the top down, its natural crystalline structure builds piece by piece while pushing impu-

rities to the bottom of the cooler. Davidson, who grew up in Michigan, explains that this is similar to how lake water freezes.

Once frozen, Davidson lets the outside of the ice come to room temperature for about 30 minutes (the surface almost sweaty and no longer frosty) before sliding the block out of the cooler. With the exception of a couple inches of frosty-looking impure ice at the bottom, the ice is beautifully clear. e last step—cutting the block into cubes that will fit in your glass—is arguably the hardest. After tempering the block, Davidson scores it with a knife and, using a cleaver and a plastic mallet, shears away slices and divides them into 2-inch cubes—with varying success. “Strange shapes are good enough. e effect, aesthetically, is still amazing,” he says. e important thing is to avoid small cubes and try instead for large blocks, which melt much more slowly. “ey can last 30 to 40 minutes without excessive dilution and the flavor profile doesn’t change dramatically.” e cubes can be kept in the freezer on a tray covered with a lid. But before using them in a cocktail, Davidson advises taking them out of the freezer and letting them sit in a bowl for 20 to 30 minutes; if their surface has not first reached room temperature, the cubes may crack when you pour other ingredients over them.

Davidson acknowledges with a laugh that the process may seem lengthy. “But all you really need is space, a little patience and materials at hand,” he says, “and the results are worth it.”

Lily Stoicheff is an eater and writer living in Santa Cruz with a soft spot for points of historical interest and a passion for pickles that threatens to take over her fridge.

RECIPE: For Mark Davidson’s Perfect Gin and Tonic, see opposite.

EDIBLE NOTABLES FISHING FOR A COMEBACK

Can a new “fish hub” revive the Monterey Bay fishing industry?

BY ELIZABETH LIMBACH

ird-generation Monterey fisherman John Pennisi is preparing to relaunch his boat, e Irene’s Way, after eight years of keeping it docked. “It’s almost like starting all over again,” he says.

Pennisi’s return to fishing Monterey’s waters, hopefully by early 2018, is part of a wider comeback for the Monterey Bay fishing industry that is being nurtured by the Monterey Bay Fisheries Trust.

In partnership with the City of Monterey and the Monterey Bay Aquarium, the nonprofit has spent the last year developing plans for a “fish hub” designed to jumpstart Monterey Bay’s struggling fishing business—with an initial focus on Monterey harbor, and an eventual goal of spreading the benefits to Moss Landing and Santa Cruz. To be successful, the hub will need to address both the proverbial chicken and the egg, simultaneously boosting both the supply of and demand for fish harvested from our local waters. e idea is modeled after “food hubs,” hundreds of which have cropped up across the country in recent years. “A food hub can range anywhere from somebody on a telephone connecting producers with buyers to a full-scale building with refrigeration, processing, trucks,

Reviving an industry: Monterey Bay Fisheries Trust executive director Sherry Flumerfelt, above left hopes a new “fish hub” will help create the increased demand for local fish that fishermen like John Pennisi, above right, need for their fishing businesses to thrive.

distribution, ice and a retail space,” says the trust’s executive director, Sherry Flumerfelt.

Fish hubs are a newer concept but the intentions are similar. Following a feasibility study finished in June, the trust decided that the fish hub’s first step, by early 2018, will be to hire a full-time valuechain coordinator whose priority will be to rebuild connections between fishermen and buyers.

Stories like Pennisi’s sparked the initial idea for the project, and feedback from him and others has shaped it along the way.

Growing up, Pennisi couldn’t wait for school to get out so he could race down to the docks and climb aboard his family’s fishing boat. He and his brothers, including well-known fisherman Giuseppe “Joe” Pennisi, never doubted that they’d become fishermen, too.

“We were so proud to be able to follow in the footsteps of my grandfather and my father,” says the 54 year old. Years later, Pennisi’s own sons aspired to carry on the family tradition. But by the time they came of age, it was a floundering business. “ey were right behind me up until the disaster hit,” Pennisi says. e Pennisis are groundfish trawlers, fishing for about 60 different bottom-dwelling species including halibut, sole, sanddabs and rockfish. For decades, this provided them with a happy and stable life: Pennisi’s parents owned a popular fish store, Royal Seafood Market, at the wharf in Monterey for 50 years, as well as a fish freezer plant. Between its members, the family owned six groundfish trawlers. But the life they’d known became endangered around the new millennium, when trouble struck the West Coast groundfish fishery—one of the most significant fisheries in the Monterey Bay.

“It was poorly managed and, over time, fish stocks started to become depleted and fishing businesses started to shut down,” says Flumerfelt. e federal government declared the fishery a disaster in 2000, and nine groundfish stocks were deemed overfished. e Monterey Bay Aquarium’s Seafood Watch program placed many of the groundfish species on its “Avoid” list. e loss of the groundfish fishery was particularly painful, as it had provided local fishermen with a bountiful source of year-round income, unlike seasonal fisheries, like those for Dungeness crab and salmon. Eventually, the fleet of local boats fishing out of Monterey Bay—once numbering in the hundreds—dwindled to a fraction of its size. e Pennisis were one of the fishing families hit by the downturn, and they lost their store, freezer plant, three trawlers and, worst of all, their identity. “If somebody asked me what I am, I wouldn’t tell them I’m Italian and Irish,” says Pennisi. “I’d tell them I’m a fisherman. It’s what we are. It’s my first thought of myself: ‘We’re fishermen.’ at got taken away; who we are got taken away.”

As local fishing diminished, suppliers of cheap imported seafood stepped in, and local markets and restaurants started offering mostly fish from other regions and abroad. As a result, buyers solidified relationships with those distributors, and customers lost their appetites for many types of local seafood like petrale sole or black cod. “ey don’t know what it tastes like to eat rockfish—its more exotic to them than eating tilapia from China, even though it’s from our backyard,” says Flumerfelt.

But over time, the groundfish fishery experienced a remarkable recovery. anks to cooperation between regulators, fishermen and en-

vironmental groups, by 2014 it had bounced back to such an impressive degree that the Marine Stewardship Council certified the fishery as sustainable, and Seafood Watch upgraded 21 species of groundfish from ones to “Avoid” to a “Best Choice” or “Good Alternative.” And thanks to an initiative by the Monterey Bay Fisheries Trust, valuable government-established fishing quotas were purchased and held in trust to be leased back to local fishermen, ensuring that they could afford to compete with outside interests for rights to harvest local fish.

Still, the recovery has come at a cost. Monterey Bay fishermen now navigate a steep set of regulations and requirements, such as paying to have a federal observer aboard on each outing. “Local fishermen are arguably the most highly regulated industry in the world,” says Flumerfelt, and that adds to their expense of doing business.

Moreover, now that they’re ready to deliver sustainable fish to the docks, there are fewer buyers waiting for them, and there is no longer the kind of infrastructure (such as filleters and commercial ice makers) needed to get the fish from boat to buyer. So, as it stands, explains Flumerfelt, “e local fishermen will land their fish and it will get taken out of town, merged in with fish from all over the place [so that] it’s no longer ‘sustainable petrale sole from Monterey Bay’—it’s just some white fish.”

“ese fishermen are fishing sustainably and responsibly and making great investments in doing so, but not necessarily being rewarded in the marketplace,” she adds. e initial version of the fish hub will focus on tackling these issues. Once the value-chain coordinator position is filled, that person will work on establishing relationships along the supply chain. “If there is demand, then fishermen will start getting up and running again, and you’ll be able to afford an ice machine, and you’ll be able to get a processor, and everything will start to fall into place again,” says Flumerfelt.

In the meantime, the trust is working on a traceability program that will make it possible for Monterey Bay-caught seafood to keep its identity from boat to plate. e nascent fish hub will evolve as it gains steam—perhaps, someday, even involving a full-scale facility. (“Wouldn’t that be great? But we’re not there yet,” says Flumerfelt.)

For Pennisi, the project provides hope that he can be proud, once again, to be a Monterey fisherman. “I see a light at the end of the tunnel, whereas before I didn’t,” he says. “I hope it’s going to bring back what started this town: the fishing industry.”

Elizabeth Limbach is a freelance journalist living in Santa Cruz, where she writes about culture, the food system and the environment.

EDIBLE NOTABLES BREWERY TWENTY FIVE

A passion for great beer has guided this couple up the long and eventful road to opening a new taproom in San Juan Bautista

BY DERRICK PETERMAN PHOTOGRAPHY BY LYNSIE LARKIN AND MICHELLE MAGDALENA

Photo by Lynsie Larkin

Fran and Sean Fitzharris at their brewery

Brewery Twenty Five, just outside of San Juan Bautista, is a little hard to find. It sits on top of a steep hill behind the house of brewery owners Fran and Sean Fitzharris. is rugged spot is not the most ideal place for a brewery.

“It’s a fun story now, but we lost a keg rolling down the hill,” Fran says. “It just broke my heart at the time.” en there’s the challenge of getting equipment into the brewery. “Getting these two fermenters up the hill was an adventure in itself,” says Sean, recalling the day that two 200-gallon stainless steel tanks were slowly eased up the narrow, winding road to the top. Delivery trucks carrying malted grain can’t negotiate the route at all, so they are forced to wait at the foot of the hill for one of the Fitzharrises to drive down and transfer the merchandise to their pickup truck.

But despite these challenges, Brewery Twenty Five has grown gradually since the couple started it four years ago, and the Fitzharrises are set to open their own taproom in downtown San Juan Bautista before the end of the year. e taproom will be the latest step in a 16-year beer journey for the couple—and the trip is gathering momentum.

In 2001, Sean had been working as a computer programmer for various startups in the San Jose area and brewing beer was nowhere on his radar screen.

“I wasn’t drinking very good beer at the time,” Sean says of those days. en he met Fran, a craft beer enthusiast who collects growlers signed by legendary brewers the way sports fans collect autographed jerseys. Together, they began to explore craft beer. “A lot of our dates and trips revolved around going someplace for beer, and whenever we would travel, we’d ask ourselves what breweries would be along the way,” Sean says. ey ex-

plored breweries up and down the West Coast, making new friends and absorbing the emerging beer culture at each stop.

Sean started home brewing, beginning with simple beers before graduating to more complex concoctions. “I love cooking, I grew up cooking with my dad and grandmother and brewing is really cooking,” Sean says. ey also got to know many brewery owners in nearby Santa Cruz and wondered if maybe they should go into the beer business themselves. e Fitzharrises spent another three years doing research and slowly amassing equipment before opening their production brewery in January of 2015, naming it after the state highway running north-south through San Benito County. Sean is the brewer, working evenings and weekends as he continues to work as a programmer, while Fran handles the business’s day-to-day operations full time. ousands of homebrewers and craft beer enthusiasts have opened breweries all over the United States. But in this age of ready-made brewing equipment and crowdfunding, Brewery Twenty Five is a throwback to the earliest days of craft beer, when people like Sierra Nevada Brewing’s Ken Grossman used their own money to patch together breweries from discarded junk and used dairy equipment. e Fitzharrises’ seven-barrel brewing system (one beer barrel = 31 gallons) employs an old dairy tank found on Craigslist and a system of copper pipes with holes and slits added to extract fermentable sugars from the malted grain using hot water. Elsewhere in their brewing process, the Fitzharrises have plugged in used equipment purchased from nearby breweries. In the middle of everything are two large, shiny fermentation tanks named elma and Louise after the Fitzharrises’ two large Australian shepherds, who have passed away but continue to live in spirit within the brewery. en there was the time they found a walk-in refrigerator, normally costing $3,000–$4,000, on sale at a closed Morgan Hill mushroom farm for only $300. “When I read the ad, I thought it was a misprint,” Fran says. Visiting the farm, they were relieved to discover the price was no mistake. e bad news: ey had to remove the large walk-in from the seller’s property that very day. “So we figured out how to take it apart, get it in the truck, and then got it up the hill and put it back together here,” explains Sean.

As for the beer, Brewery Twenty Five often infuses the flavors of the local community into its brews. Its Fuzzy Jules Apricot Wheat beer, named after a local second grade teacher, uses apricots sourced from Hollister’s B&R Farms. Normally brewed in the sum-

mer months, the light tartness from the apricots works well with underlying wheat beer to create a fresh, vibrant brew. For its Many Moons Stout, Brewery Twenty Five adds beans from San Juan Bautista’s cult coffeehouse, Vertigo Coffee Roasters, along with cocoa nibs and vanilla beans to create a highly complex, rich stout. A long-term project in the works is a sour wheat ale aged in chardonnay barrels from Hollister’s Leal Vineyards. Sometimes Sean ventures well beyond San Benito County for his inspirations, like when he added lemongrass and ai spices to his stout. Other times, he’ll add toasted coconut. en there’s his Passion Fruit Wheat. “Passion fruit is an interesting beast—it’s a very tart fruit,” says Sean, who adds it to a neutral wheat-based beer, allowing its tangy flavor to really shine. “A lot of folks really into sours love this beer,” Fran says.

Of course, any California brewery is virtually required to have an IPA. But Brewery Twenty Five’s Oatie Oats IPA, which utilizes flaked oats to add a creamy mouthfeel, and mosaic and Citra hops to contribute tropical and citrus flavors, is much more restrained and balanced than most West Coast IPAs. “It’s a very approachable IPA that’s more about the flavor and aroma than bitterness,” explains Sean.

All of this will be found in Brewery Twenty Five’s new taproom. e main room will feature a bar and will be decorated with local art, antiques and other objects. In the back, the Fitzharrises are planning a room that will chronicle their explorations of craft beer culture with pictures of Sean and Fran on their various travels, as well as Fran’s collection of autographed growlers and tap handles. Reflecting on her initial discovery of craft beer, Fran says, “I was super lucky back in the ’90s. I was around people who knew about good beer. I was that person telling everyone the stories about people like Ken Grossman.”

Now, with the opening of their San Juan Bautista taproom, Sean and Fran finally get to tell their piece of that story.

Brewery Twenty Five will soon open its taproom in San Juan Bautista.

Derrick Peterman came to Northern California nearly 20 years ago, chasing a dream in technology, and discovered all the region’s great breweries along the way. He writes mostly about beer and sometimes about running, at the blog Ramblings of a Beer Runner (ramblings-of-a-beer-runner.blog).

Brewery Twenty Five

106 3rd St., San Juan Bautista 831.636.7640 www.BreweryTwentyFive.com

“We’re trying to make something out of nothing here,” Zach Wilson says emphatically on the morning of e Bridge Restoration Ministry’s 11th annual fundraising banquet in October. Wilson is the chef/educator behind Bridge Culinary—the new culinary training program and catering service that is part of e Bridge’s 12-month residential rehab program for men and women recovering from substance abuse. Along with his focused team of program residents, Wilson is cooking an elaborate dinner for tonight’s 300-seat, sold-out event.

Wilson started developing the program about a year ago when he was a resident at e Bridge himself. Director and founder Mike Casey says that it was always a goal to establish a culinary education program. As he puts it, “e guys always naturally gravitated towards the kitchen.” So when Wilson, who previously worked for Aqua Terra Culinary and Rancho Cielo Drummond Culinary Academy, entered rehab with the intention of utilizing his background while he was committed to the program, Casey was excited to support his efforts.

Wilson started by organizing the residents to cook weekday dinners for the house. “Some of this is just about teaching these guys how to cook for themselves—fresh, homemade meals,” Wilson explains. But for those at e Bridge who are serious about pursuing a culinary or other service industry career, he wanted to provide the correct training to give them a competitive edge in the job market after they leave the program. Eventually, Wilson aims to open a Bridge restaurant where the program participants can work.

Since it opened in 2006, e Bridge has always had a vocational training element, which in the realm of culinary skills included residents working after Sunday’s services at e Grille at Calvary Monterey, a church with which the Bridge is affiliated. But after completing the residential program, Wilson was hired by e Bridge and expanded on that. He implemented a curriculum with structured class time when residents can learn the basics of French technique along with practical skills—such as purchasing, budgeting and meal prep.

“ere’s been a lot of trial and error these past few months, but that’s what needs to happen,” says Benjamin Garcia, an affable yet determined resident. “It’s encouraging to be able to see the growth of the program while at the same time seeing growth in myself through all the new things I’m learning in the kitchen.”

For Wilson and the residents, the most rewarding aspect of Bridge Culinary has been catering. From church socials to weddings to chamber of commerce events to a luncheon for the probation department, Bridge Culinary has built an impressive roster of clients over the past few months. “Having all the probation officers for lunch—that was a big deal!” says Casey. “Opportunities like that give these guys confidence to be out in the community and be recognized for something other than their past.”

Moving forward is a key element to e Bridge, but Wilson also believes in complete transparency about his journey. “It’s easier to tell the truth and be upfront and honest about yourself,” Wilson tells me. “We’re a Christian program—we don’t hide in the shadows; we face our demons.” is extends to the relationship Bridge Culinary wishes to have with the community: “I want people to know that we’re here to cook tasty food, but also to connect and share our stories and potentially help people who are going through their own battles with addiction.”

“We’re here for our community, both small and large,” Wilson continues, “to connect, to train, and to put good, sober people back in the workforce.” When questioned about the challenges that exist for graduates entering an industry that is notorious for addiction, Wilson thoughtfully considers his answer. “I do recognize the challenges,” he says. “But you have to send people back into the world eventually. I’m a chef. is is what I can teach. is is how I can help.”

“Food is the backbone of our community—the growing, the cooking, the eating,” he later reflects. “We’re working hard to be a part of that.”

Rosie Parker, a native New Englander, likes to complain of missing home while living the Santa Cruz high life—surfing, hiking, writing and working for a delicious craft brewery.

Bridge Culinary e Bridge Restoration Ministry 225 Central Ave., Pacific Grove 831.521.5964 • www.bridgeculinary.org

EDIBLE NOTABLES MISSING LINKS

Two popular local chefs beef up the Monterey Peninsula’s foodshed with a new artisanal butcher shop

STORY AND PHOTOGRAPHY BY CAMILLA M. MANN

ey know their farmers: Chefs Jason Balestrieri and Kevin Hincks visit the heritage Mangalitsa pigs being raised for them in Cachagua.

Our Monterey Bay-area foodshed abounds with artisanal bakers, jam creators and even candlestick makers—but butchers, not so much. at’s why it’s so exciting to watch e Meatery taking shape in Seaside. e project of beloved local chefs Jason Balestrieri and Kevin Hincks, the new artisanal butchery at 1534 Fremont Blvd. is set to begin offering homemade sausages, custom-cut meats and deli sandwiches in a friendly, old-timey setting in early 2018. e 2,200-square-foot space had been stripped down to the bricks when Balestrieri and Hincks walked me through in October. ey are going for a hip yet classic butcher shop feel by installing a pressed tin ceiling and using lots of white subway tile and reclaimed wood. e design includes three coolers—one for dry aging, one for curing and one for general use. ey are also putting in a large communal table, where customers can enjoy high-end sandwiches and a rotating menu of hot foods, as well as monthly pop-up dinners.

Balestrieri and Hincks met when they were both chefs at Cantinetta Luca in Carmel where Balestrieri was executive chef and partner for more than a decade. First colleagues, then friends, the chefs have embarked on opening a modern butcher shop that will connect customers to their meat. “We’re passionate about meat,” explains Hincks. “We’re good Midwestern boys, after all.” Balestrieri grew up in Wisconsin. Hincks hails from Illinois. rough the artisanal craft of butchering and handcrafted charcuterie, they are committed to building relationships within the community and bridging the gap between producers and consumers. Balestrieri looks forward to making salumi more accessible to local con-

sumers—especially prosciutto, salami and lardo, like he created and served at Cantinetta Luca.

“In this day and age, in this community, people go to markets and are connected to the people growing their fruits and vegetables,” Balestrieri says. “We want to support that growing awareness with meat.”

To that end, e Meatery will offer customers a full-service butcher where you can pick up fresh cuts of meat; a deli with made-toorder sandwiches; a cold case packed with housemade salumi; and hot food offerings that you can take to go or eat in the retail space. e owners also plan to host cooking classes and community dinners. Additionally, they will use the kitchen for catering outside events.

“We want a higher level of community,” Hincks says, “and people deserve to know where their food comes from.” rough their collective years in local kitchens, both chefs have fostered relationships with ranchers who are producing sustainably and ethically raised animals.

One afternoon I accompanied Balestrieri and Hincks to the Keaton Family Farm in Cachagua. “Hug the shoulder of the road and stay right on our bumper,” Hincks instructed before we headed out to visit three of the Mangalitsa pigs they are raising out in Carmel Valley. e Mangalitsas are a wooly heritage breed pig indigenous to Hungary that has battled back from the brink of extinction because their creamy lard is prized by chefs and diners alike. e Slow Food Movement lists Mangalitsas in its Ark of Taste, a catalog of endangered heritage foods that are sustainably produced, distinct in flavor and uniquely relevant to the food chain. e Ark of Taste actively promotes conservation through cultivation for consumption by identifying breeds that are worth saving—and worth eating.

Balestrieri explains the uniqueness of the Mangalitsa lard, “It melts at a lower temperature than other pigs’ lard because it contains more unsaturated fat.” He admits it’s not well-suited for use in charcuterie. “I tried to use it in salami once and it didn’t turn out well. It was too soft.” But he knows the luscious fat with titanic thickness is well-suited for lardo, a traditional Italian cured pork fat, and plans to make that as soon as the pigs are fully grown. ese days, many people demand the meat they buy be raised free range and humanely outdoors. e Mangalitsas are raised under those kinds of ideal conditions, but the chefs will also offer meats that are less expensive to produce. “I won’t go as far as saying it will be all grassfed, all organic,” Hincks admits, noting that would be price prohibitive, but e Meatery is committed to sourcing ethically and sustainably raised animals and will offer grass-fed, organic and local meats when available.

At the Seaside City Council meeting for their building permit, the partners were asked if they would carry rabbits, goats and other specialty meats. Balestrieri answered that that is their intention. “We want people on the Peninsula who have been driving north to go to el Salchichero, Freedom Meat Lockers and Corralitos Market & Sausage Co. to find what they want at e Meatery.”

Two Seaside residents hearing about the project expressed delight. “I will definitely start getting my meats there,” gushes Undine Lauer who grew up on a ranch in Oregon. “We don’t have anything like this.”

Jennifer Fletcher agrees she’s looking forward to having a reliable, reputable butcher in the neighborhood. Having lived overseas, she recalls visiting butcher shops in London. “It demystifies the process and, I think, will encourage more adventurous eating since people can ask the butchers, ‘How do I prepare that?’”

Hincks says, “With enough lead time, we’ll be able to get whatever our customers want.” While they will be focused on meat, he says that because they are breaking down the whole animals, they’ll be able to offer everything from bones and offal to bone broth and dog treats.

Because they are designing e Meatery to connect consumers to the meat, their entire process embraces transparency. Large glass windows will offer a behind-the-scenes view of the shop where you can see the butchers at work.

For this new venture together, the partners are thrilled to be in Seaside, where artisanal businesses such as Acme Coffee have a foothold and the new Other Brother Beer Co. is set to open in 2018. “I think Seaside is trying to reinvigorate itself and I’m happy to be a part of that growth,” Balestrieri says.

Camilla M. Mann is a food writer, photographer, adventurer and passionate cook. She blogs at www.culinary-adventures-with-cam.blogspot.com and lives in Seaside.

e Meatery 1534 Fremont Blvd., Seaside 831.915.7408 • www.themeatery.us