Coqcentration

Wednesday, 13 May 2026 — Sea Breeze Farm, Neverstill, Oregon

Today is the five-year anniversary of the beginning of our move to our Neverstill, Oregon farm.

Just like this day five years ago, I am once again pulling seeds from my wrinkly pockets and sinking them into the garden beds, always the priority when the land is fertile, when the land is yours. I also see today the same Milky Way of clover blossoms and shooting stars of daisies filling the universe of our expansive pasture.

I ache that I ever transplanted my little family to Portland to open a shop, and I miss the kisses of spring, the winks of summer, and the embraces of fall here. But then, if we hadn’t, we would never have met you in our little shop on North Cook Street, which would have been a far greater loss. The name of the street our farm-to-table restaurant sits on so poetically reminds us exactly why we started farming in the first place: from a passion and a desire to cook.

Although “cook” and coq (French for rooster) or “cock” (English for rooster) have no etymological connection, it’s interesting that the tough old bird that requires long cooking to become truly digestible is only one or two letters away from the word itself.

Coq au vin is a simple country dish that takes a rooster, wine, tidbits from the garden, leftover scraps of bacon or ham, then simmers them for several hours into a nourishing culinary delight. These dishes are emblematic of George’s cuisine.

The state of the coq au vin at Coq au Vin restaurant is also a symbol of George and me, and the state of our lives. Although always delicious, perhaps a year ago the braise was a wee bit over-stewed (and so were we). Two years ago the bird was perhaps too young (much like our early restaurant days). At another time it may have lacked the depth that comes from the right fungal ingredient (forgetting important parts or ingredients of our lives). Yet in spite of the chaos of the past few years, the ingenuity of our hearts has kept the flavor consistently delicious.

All this is to say that last night, George’s coq au vin was truly perfect. Once again, it felt like a symbol of our lives and our return to the farm, perhaps a return to our hearts.

His recipe unfolded like this:

When our little family reoccupied the farm last July, we hatched the most beautiful cockerel and raised him on fresh pasture with abundant forage for many months. The day came when we thanked the rooster for his life, culled him carefully, and kept his iridescent black feathers in memory. We used the wing feathers to tie back our long wild hair, keeping us cool as we wandered down a path just west of the farm that had piqued our curiosity. There we discovered a waterfall draping a tower of rocks like a veil on a bride. We plucked oyster mushrooms from a decaying log and gathered wood sorrel and wild celery from the thick, bearded forest floor.

Back at the farm, George dressed the bird, chopped it into pieces, sliced the oyster mushrooms lengthwise, peeled plump cloves of garlic, minced the wild celery along with stout spring onions and a thick over-wintered carrot. Layering all of the components in an ample, fire-orange Le Creuset casserole, he glugged a full bottle of our mature, sherry-like farm wine into the pot and marinated the concoction overnight. The next day, he slowly simmered it all with aromatics and this-and-that from the farm and larder. Hours later, he continued simmering even as dusk closed her golden eyes and the dreamy world of the ranch turned dark.

We began with a bright, tart salad of sorrel dressed in 18-year farm vinegar and fresh cheese from our newly freshened milk cow. Then came the coq au vin. He poured the still-chunky yet syrupy elixir over smoky lentils. After the first bite, a reverent silence fell over our small brood. The umami of the oyster mushrooms, the unctuous sweetness of the wine and rooster broth, it was utter nourishment.

—

After a long winter of long hours, George and I have decided to Coqcentrate (pun definitely intended) our time at the restaurant.

For the time being, we will be open Friday and Saturday evenings by reservation only. This will allow us to focus our passion and energy towards the farm and concentrate the flavor of everything we do, a perfect reduction.

Would you join us this month and taste the distillation?

Eagerly awaiting your reply,

Rose, George & Farmily

Join us at the farm

We have seats available for our farm experiences, and tables at Coq au Vin on Friday and Saturday evenings by reservation. We are so eager to share this season with you.

Join us for an immersive dining experience on the farm.

---

More Farm Stories · Book a table at Coq au Vin · Farm experiences · Join cook.book