Editor’s note: In February, we launched TFS Mercantile, a curated selection of pantry goods from independent producers across the South. Since a small portion of every Mercantile sale supports The Food Section’s journalism—and because we firmly believe the condiments we carry would enhance your springtime table—it would be foolhardy not to tell you a little more about what’s on our virtual shelves. Take it away, Emma!
As an Asheville resident of more than a decade, I was familiar with Imladris Farm’s jam and Lusty Monk’s mustards long before they appeared for sale in The Food Section’s Mercantile. I don’t remember where I came across these products for the first time—likely on a charcuterie board at a local restaurant, where both can easily overshadow even some of the best cheeses and meats. It was unsurprising to me that editor Hanna Raskin picked them when putting together the TFS Mercantile.
“I wanted to work with small businesses which share TFS’ commitment to serving their communities, respecting their contributors, and making their customers’ lives more delicious,” she said.
Raskin knows when and where she first encountered these products and their makers: Twenty years ago, she was a server at The Lobster Trap, a seafood joint in downtown Asheville. “Back then,” she said, “their products were new, so my job involved explaining to people why they didn’t want to skip the mustard or jam garnishing their plates… In other words, my job hasn’t changed too much in 20 years.”
Walt Harrill is a sixth-generation farmer and owner of the commercial arm of Imladris Farm, which makes an array of jams, jellies, and fruit butters. Like many Appalachian makers, his ancestors were subsistence farmers on the same land where Harrill now farms some of the berries for his jarred products. Harrill’s grandfather planted one of the first commercial blueberry orchards in Western North Carolina in the 1950s, an idea that was initially met with skepticism. “He was the first and was laughed at by a lot in the agriculture community,” Harrill said.
Six decades later, some of those original bushes are still producing fruit, even though the average lifespan of a blueberry bush is roughly 20 years.
While Imladris Farm once experimented with a wide range of products, including rabbit meat and shiitake mushrooms, the business eventually found its focus in fruit preserves. “Once we found our niche, the diversity kind of became a distraction,” Harrill said.
Instead of trying to grow every ingredient themselves, the farm shifted toward collaboration with other growers in the region. “We have six farm families in the immediate area that benefit from this business model,” Harrill said.
Those partnerships are carefully chosen. Harrill says local sourcing is the top priority, followed closely by environmentally responsible practices. Instead of relying heavily on chemical sprays, Harrill believes the key is choosing crops suited to the landscape. “If you pick the right environment for whatever it is you’re growing, then you can minimize pests and problems and eliminate the need for sprays,” he said.
Even the way the farm buys fruit is geared toward sustainability. Harrill encourages growers to prioritize retail sales first and use the jam operation as a secondary market for berries that might not meet grocery stores’ cosmetic standards. “I don’t have to have top quality prime berries in order to make a top-quality, prime jam,” he said. “We encourage our growers first to go get that top retail dollar.”
If Harrill’s preserves draw their identity from the land and the farmers who grow the fruit, Lusty Monk mustard springs from a different kind of inspiration: culinary history.
I assumed, as one might, that Davis came around to making mustard because she was a passionate mustard consumer, but no. In fact, her company was born mostly out of a fondness for old cookbooks. “My favorite cookbooks are the ones where you get to go back in time and figure out what their world was like,” she said.
Davis was browsing a Victorian-era cookbook when she came across a recipe for homemade mustard that inspired the original experiment for Lusty Monk. “I was like, nobody really makes mustard at home anymore,” Davis said. “I wonder what that would be like.”
Back in 2006, Davis was working as a bartender at Asheville’s Dirty Jack’s, where they ate a lot of Snyder’s Pretzels while on shift. She started experimenting with mustard recipes to zhuzh up snack time.
Her approach blends historic inspiration with modern adjustments, such as swapping out white vinegar for apple cider vinegar because “apple cider seemed more Western Carolina-ish,” she said.
Lusty Monk’s newest flavor, Mostly Medieval Mustard, draws on recipes from the Middle Ages. Davis researched historic mustard preparations that used spices from hippocras—a spiced wine common in medieval Europe—and incorporated those flavors into a lightly spiced mustard that retains its essential character. Davis says it works especially well with charcuterie, burgers, and sandwiches. “It’s slightly sweet, but it’s still got that mustardy kick,” she said.
Lusty Monk has grown well beyond its origins at the bar, but Davis sees it as firmly rooted in the region where it’s based. “It is an Asheville thing—that’s where we started,” she said. “We’re proud of that.”
So, grab a jar of Imladris Farm jam or Lusty Monk Mustard through the TFS Mercantile—you can feel good knowing you’re supporting not only excellent food journalism, but also the hard-working, creative makers of Appalachia.
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