Laurie BergerWhen I told friends I’d be covering a cannabis dinner in September, the reaction was disbelief: “What…YOU at a pot party?” You see, I’m not a cannabis user. My “drugs” of choice are food and wine. But like many foodies these days, I’m curious about the rise of gourmet cannabis cuisine. And now that marijuana is legal in California, cannabis dinners are popping up like weed across the state – including the Coachella Valley.
These are not your dorm room “pot” lucks. They’re high-end, multi-course affairs helmed by classically trained chefs who’ve mastered the fine art of food, wine and weed pairings. Held at private homes and unique venues, they typically command tasting-menu prices ranging from $150-500+ per person.
A “Moonlit Moveable Feast” is one such dining experience. Hosted twice-annually on the full moon by the aptly named High Dining Club, it’s the high desert’s premium cannabis event.
So, when offered the opportunity to “taste” this experience, I jumped at the chance. I also secretly worried, What if I’m the only non-stoner in the group. What if I embarrass myself choking on smoke (always an issue for me). What if I got too high? What if, what if, what if…
“You are my audience,” assured Barbie Sommars, co-founder of the event and COO of Mary Jane University, a cannabis education organization.
“We’re not like other cannabis events, she said. “The point is not to get super high; our mission is to educate people about cannabis and its benefits.”
The four-course meal would contain only 10 mg of tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), the substance in cannabis that gets you high, she explained. “Just enough to make the moonlight seem brighter but not freak-out worthy.”
“Taste, don’t eat,” I advised myself. But that was easier said than done.
The Experience Begins…
Like many cannabis dinners, Moonlit’s location was secret until 24 hours before the event. At the appointed time, I received an email with the name of a mysterious sounding place called Furstworld, just outside Joshua Tree National Park.
With great curiosity and trepidation, I left my Airbnb the next day and headed down a dusty, unpaved road to Furstworld. A compound of corrugated steel hangars, Airstream trailers and red and ochre-colored buildings loomed like Oz in the distance.
The wizard of Furstworld is local personality Bobby Furst; his eponymous fantasyland, gallery, performance space packed floor to ceiling with industrial gobbledygook and political art curated through the years. For the next 5 hours, we’d eat, drink, learn, sample and share cannabis in Furst’s personal museum.
As I weaved my way to the main patio through peace signs and anti-war art, sunglass-clad skeletons, mannequins with missing limbs (found later dangling out of a garbage can), street signs and bathtubs, I realized this was not going to be your average stoner party.
Some 50 guests ranging in age from 20s to 70s milled about, gawking at Furst’s collection, puffing on hookahs, sampling new smoking technology, viewing exhibits such as “Cooking with Cannabis” or chatting with a roaming cannabis educator to the healing sounds of Divasonic.
Many were dressed in dinner-party finery with a Coachella accent – flowing shawls, long sundresses and dangly earrings. Furst himself, a wiry man in his 60s festooned in a kooky top hat, gold vest, peace signs and heart-printed satin pants, flitted around greeting guests.
It felt like a peaceful, civilized gathering of good friends.
A Soft Landing
Upon arrival, we were greeted with a CBD-infused arrival mocktail created by Holden Jagger of Altered Plates, a Los Angeles-based cannabis dining club and caterer. (CBD, or cannabidiol, is derived from hemp, the non-psychotropic compound in cannabis that provides relaxation and other medical benefits).
I stared into the wildflower-flecked bubbling cauldron a bit apprehensively. The sparkling ginger-mint-lemon Sprig beverage Jagger ladled into ornate goblets contained 2 mg of CBD. “Here we go,” I whispered to myself.
Surprisingly, the combination of flavors and bubbles on this warm night was more than refreshing. As dusk turned to dark, I felt a sense of calmness and well-being. If this is what infused food is all about, I’ll take a refill!
While waiting for dinner, there were interactive “exhibits” to explore. One of my favorites: Viewing the cannabis flower’s frosty-looking trichomes (tiny outgrowths where THC and CBD are made) under a microscope. It was an eye-opener to see thousands of little “cannabinoid factories” working their magic on the plant.
You could also test your knowledge of terpenes, the compounds that gives plants – and cannabis – their unique aromas. Sniffing different flowers, it was surprising to see how closely various cannabis strains matched the smell of wild lavender, lemon and pine.
A short visit to the Mary Jane University lounge, an Airstream trailer tricked out in furry animal print seats and rugs, provided further education. There, I got a demo of the volcano, old-school apparatus for people who are sensitive to smoke, and learned about a new genetic test that analyzes your DNA to match you with the best cannabis strain. (A number of companies currently provide cannabis testing).
Taste Not Eat
Finally time for dinner, hostess and cannabis educator Keiko Beatie escorted us to a long communal table decked out with candles, flowers and Moroccan-themed centerpieces. Tiny ornamental lights and the full moon twinkled overhead while music from Amritakripa and the 3rd Ear Experience played in the background.
Each place setting included a glass pipe, a Bic lighter and a 1/8-ounce jar of Aloha Humboldt cannabis flowers deliciously named “Blueberry Cookies.” More on that later.
The evening’s meal was created and prepared by Chef Sabrina Eustis, a culinary school grad who has cooked around the world and just returned from Morocco.
Like many cannabis chefs, Sabrina uses fresh, local and organic ingredients infused with quality strains of cannabis for an “elevated” dining experience. Two of the four courses on her Moroccan-themed menu contained THC (5 mg each). The rest would be infused with CBD.
Those who excel at cannabis cuisine are masters at pairing flavors to hide the weedy taste. If a recipe calls for lemon, for example, a chef may reduce the amount of that ingredient and replace it with an equal amount of cannabis strain containing the terpene limonene.
For this dinner, the infusions were created by Sommars and Chef Sabrina using accurately dosed cannabis products rather than raw herb. “We’re educating people that they can do this at home with such items from a dispensary as Mondo Powder and Medicine Box Happy Belly Tincture, says Sommars.
So, how well did the food taste – and elevate?
First, the Harira appetizer. Traditionally eaten to break the fast after Ramadan, the chick pea and lentil soup was lightly drizzled with cumin-infused coconut oil containing 3 mg of CBD. Perfectly spiced, I couldn’t detect any cannabis in this rich, tomatoey stew.
Next course, Harvest Moon Vegetable Pastilla. This delicate spiral of crunchy filo dough stuffed with squash, Brussel sprouts, caramelized onions and walnuts was topped with a tangy pomegranate salsa and dusting of powdered sugar. As I devoured what would be my favorite dish of the night, I forgot it contained half the evening’s dose of THC – 5 mg of infused powdered sugar. I also forgot my original mantra, “Taste, don’t eat.”
With a piece of pastilla and a “fuck it” attitude, I mopped up any trace of sugar on my plate – and silently applauded the chef. I’m a foodie first, after all!
Sip and Smoke
The palate cleanser was a wine and flower pairing by sommelier Jamie Evans, who crossed over into cannabis-pairing and education in 2017. Her blog, The Herb Somm shares weed recipes from cannabis chefs across LA.
“It’s all about the terpenes,” she explained as our glasses were filled with a 2017 Jean-Luc Colombo Cape Bleue Rose. “Sniff the wine, then open up your jar of Aloha Humboldt flowers and take another sniff,” she said.
Suddenly, there were oohs and ahhs from the group. The bright berries, cherries, and citrus we smelled in the wine perfectly matched the cannabis flower aroma! I now understood the fine art of cannabis pairing.
Aloha Humboldt farmers Linsey and Ryan Jones explained their growing methods – and how the “Blueberry Cookies” we received were harvested in July during the full moon eclipse. It reminded me of how organic farmers lovingly talk about their produce.
Evans wrapped her presentation with a “group toke.” Everyone picked up their handblown pipes from Smoke Cartel, packed them with Aloha flowers and started puffing. Having no idea how to do that, and unable to tolerate smoke, I watched…feeling more like a lurker than a participant.
Thankfully, the main course showed up shortly after. I opted for the vegetarian tagine, a light medley of cauliflower, chickpeas, honeynut squash over fluffy turmeric couscous. It tasted very similar to the Harira, with a good dose of heat, but was not infused. The reason: Too much food would go uneaten, according to Sommars. “It’s a waste, and it insults the chef.”
Choose Your Experience
After dinner, guests retreated to the music lounge for dessert – an orange, cinnamon, honey and date M’hencha (which means serpentine in Moroccan).
I gobbled up the gooey, coiled baklava-style pastry, not realizing it packed the other half dosage of THC (5 mg). Again, the cannabis was so perfectly paired with the dessert’s ingredients, I didn’t taste any bitterness.
For the rest of the evening, we were encouraged to choose our own “experience.” There were performance artists, angel card readers, crystal energy divas, new age entertainers, a “high dutchess of hashish” – and the hopping hookah lounge.
I headed out to the darkness, where local artist Kyle Simon was drawing a crowd. His custom-built telescope pointed at the brilliant full moon, Simon rigged up a system that converts light waves into eerie sound. We stood transfixed as the moon wailed! Another highlight: Watching local glass artists Paul Kowan and Stephen Alan Hubbell doing a trance dance while shaping gorgeous smoking devices with blow torches.
By this time of the night, I expected to be surrounded by some hard-core stoners. Instead, everyone was mellow and making new friends. I left Moonlit just as Sommars promised, a little lighter and brighter, with a slight buzz and a swag bag of canna-goodies to share with my weed-loving friends.
I not only overcame my fear of cannabis, I learned how to enjoy it, too. And upon returning to my Airbnb, I tumbled into bed and had the best sleep of my life!
The Details:
What: High Dining Club’s Moonlit Moveable Feast
Advance sales: Next event May 18, 2019. $500 per person. Strictly 21+. Tickets at High Dining Club.