Wild Food on a Wild Coast

The towns get increasingly wind-tossed and plucky as you drive up Route 1, so when you finally arrive at The Inn at Newport Ranch, it's 2100 acres of Northern California Quintessential. A private wilderness reserve with seven distinct microclimates above Mendocino and Fort Bragg, there's also a farm, culinary gardens, herds of cattle, lots of raptors, a main lodge, a spa and outbuildings blending into the spectacular landscape.

All this is the vision of Will Jackson, the 96-year owner of The Inn at Newport Ranch, who spends a good chunk of the year at Sea Drum, his house on the headlands built above a sea cave. Jackson's mark is everywhere on the property, especially in his keen eye for views. Exploring the 1.5 acres of coastal trails, you come across 23 thrones made of driftwood and tables carved out of single trunks, all positioned to take in sea caves with turquoise water, crashing waves, and the monolithic stones that march up the coast.

The day after we arrive, we head out with Otis Brown, grounds-man and resident fabulist, to give us a UTV tour. First, we race into the meadows towards the bulls and cliff's edge, while Brown tells tales of 10,000-pound bulls shoving each other off the cliff (couldn't get that one out of my head), before heading through pastureland into the forest. There he shows us thousands of mushrooms - chanterelles, porcini, candy cap, shitake, lion's mane- giant Jurassic-looking ferns, trees that have been stripped of their bark by bears and stand after stand of majestic redwoods. At the top of the hill, we unwrap our mysteriously delicious sandwiches for a picnic overlooking the coast. The Inn partners with the Redwood Forest Foundation to educate and support the ecosystem so Brown shows us how to plant a seedling, before we head back to the lodge.

The main building, built from lumber felled on the property, is all about trees in a way I've never encountered before. Envisioned by architects Dave Sellers, Jim Sanford and Robin Cannell Baker, the goal was to bring the outside in. Using stone and timber from the property to build barn stye doors and walls, tree trunks were also incorporated into the design of the house - the foundation itself was constructed from twenty-four redwoods.

Now a fire roars in the hearth, which turns out to be useful because the fog does roll. Dinner is served in the main dining room -- only seven covers a night --a procession of subtle and imaginative dishes. We began with a Humboldt oyster with arctic rose mignonette (which curiously works), followed with a delicate rockfish with wilted ranch lettuces and pickled bacon. I especially loved the Bing cherry panna cotta with 'fragrant bedstraw and milk crumb.

A serendipitous series of events led Executive Chef Nick Wells to The Inn at Newport Ranch. His last residency was at Tutka Lodge, a remote wilderness resort in Alaska, and it was there that he met Adam Lawrence, one of the founding chefs of Noma and former Master Forager for three Michelin-starred San Francisco restaurant, Saison.

"Adam came out for a summer," Wells says. "And we became really good friends. He has incredible skill, and I really respect his food. I was just picking his brain and seeing all his excitement about the plants in Alaska, things I would walk by and now see. 'You could do this,' he said. 'You could do that.' And it just exploded my mind. What a fortunate thing.100%."

The next morning is bright when I find him in the larger dining room, a space with long hand carved wood tables and an ancient hearth at one end. Wells tells me that his break came around six months ago when Lawrence met with Blair Foster, the GM at The Inn, and heard they were looking for a chef. "It's the whole property," Lawrence told Wells. "You have a farm. You have gardens."

"I'm from California," Wells says. "I love this place. I love this area. I love the bay. I love the coast. And for the past [seven} years, I was cooking in Alaska, but that wasn't me; it was my interpretation; but I wasn't connected in a personal way. So being here, it's just a whole feeling of my love for my state."

Wells himself grew up in Redlands, coaching football and playing guard before he went to culinary school.

"My chefs forage almost every day for different things," he says. "I could just focus on creating [a dish], but I need my team. Food is like football. The hierarchy of your chef is your head coach, your associates or your assistants. Then you have your position coaches and your players and your cooks. Any good team has the hierarchy of how it's built and (you need to) empower your staff and team to do well and take ownership. The collaborations, the game plan and scheming when it comes to dishes and food, is the same as building a game plan for a game. It's the problem-solving. And the understanding that we can do it together."

I'm still thinking of that custard, its delicate wash of uni, and the frizzle of what seemed like fried capers on top.

"In the summertime in Alaska, there is a two-week window before the leaves turn into big leaves, and then you'd get these little buds of Devil's Club. We take them and we barigoule them -- like with artichoke, bathing them in an acidic liquid - and then dust them, dry them, and put them on top."

"We also make our own bacon here," he continues. "We'll get the pork belly, brine it, and cure it for about seven days and then we'll smoke it... There's a plant here called Arctic butterbur, and the Yuki people here, the natives of this land, would take the leaf and burn it and use it as a salt substitute. We make our own house cure here of salt and sugar, and we cure everything, our beef, our pork. It adds a very floral flavor, but so subtle. And then when you smoke things on alder, it just adds another layer. The alder is from here too. We're making jams, preserving, fermenting, and making soy sauce and white soy."

My last morning, I take a walk after the spectacular breakfast, a constellation of small surprises like house made corn polenta. The paths are carefully tended on the property's 1.5 miles of coastline. Turkey vultures line up on the fence poles. Raptors glide on the sky currents, scanning the dry grass for lunch. The old lumber chute shows the scrape marks of the huge trees and sides of beef they tossed into the drink, back when the sailing ships pulled right under the cliffs. The water is deep close in, allowing sometimes whales -- minkes, orcas, greys - to swim right in. Blackberry hedges line the trails up to the lodge and pink arctic roses wind themselves in and amongst the thorns. There's a culinary garden at the top where guests are encouraged to take what they want.

The property also offers horseback riding, whale watching, kayaking, lots of glorious hiking, majestic redwoods, a spa, and a sweat lodge. The Inn at Newport Ranch is three and a half hours north of San Francisco, two and a half if you fly into Sonoma. Go for the view, stay for the food.