San Diego GreenLife

by Val Gysler

Photo credit The Linkery

I don’t know what it is about me but I tend to stumble, literally, onto the path less traveled. This road, time and again, serendipitously leads me to all sorts of fantastic little places where environmental principles and practices reign paramount.

When I first moved here from Riverside as a single 25-year-old, I was taken aback by all the hipster bike riders, outfitted in their skinny jeans, messenger bags and RayBan’s. So, I began to trail these folks in an effort to see where the hell they were all going.

Turns out they weren’t peddling over to the halogen-light-bulb aisle at the Home Depot. As a result of my research, eventually, I began to familiarize myself with the eco-subculture here in San Diego. There are fantastic happenings and places all over this city—and if there is one thing I now know about San Diego, it’s where the green scene is seen.

Last night, in an effort to unwind with a hearty pint and a farm-to-table meal, I decided to hit up the Linkery on 30th street, in North Park. As a vegetarian, it wasn’t the obvious choice, but their use of locally-grown, organic produce, and their extensive listing of beers piqued my interest enough for me to give it a whirl.

When I walked in, I was greeted by more sausages than you'd find in a dive bar in PB. All of this became secondary, however, as I learned more about the premise on which this joint was based. The word buzzing in all of our ears was “sustainable”. Their website boasts the serving of “… meats only from independent farmers and co-ops whose reputation and livelihood is tied to the quality of their animals…featur[ing] pastured and grass-fed meat raised with traditional and sustainable methods.” Uh, waitress, table for one please!”

One pint into the evening, my attention wandered off the menu, to the flat screen TV on the wall providing the diners with a “meet your meat” slideshow of sorts. Still images of pigs, one after the other, slowly faded on and off the screen. It seems I had stumbled onto Farmer John’s virtual scrapbook.

Being that I don’t dine on swine, I began to scour the menu for something sans a heartbeat. The Portobello Tacos, with the Pinquito Bean salad sounded divine. I have no idea what a pinquito bean is, but it made the dish’s description much more fancy-sounding.

Then there was the Hearth Bread and Local Oils starter, which featured avocado oil from the Bella Vado avocado ranch in Valley Center. When all was said and done, to start, I chose the Chips and Dip, featuring an avocado and green onion dip served with a side of market produce. For my main course, I finally narrowed it down to the Green Salad—I just had to, this being a green column and all.

Now, if you go to the Linkery to have a link, virtually the entire menu is your playground. Many sausage selections offered are either organic, free-range or both. If you don’t focus too much on the piggy PowerPoint oinking at the periphery, I hear it’s tough to pick just one.

They also have an extensive local beer list with everything from Ports to IPA’s. I was a happy girl. Beer and salad tossed with locally grown greens—this was a meal Al Gore himself could be proud of!

The architectural design of the restaurant follows the same sustainable theme. In the summer, the floor to ceiling windows open up garage-door-style, providing a natural cooling system that minimizes the need for air conditioning and increases the amount of natural light in the space. This place has a good thing going: great local food, friendly service, and an eco-conscious design sensibility.

It’s easy to see that the Linkery understands what it means to be considerate of the land and animals with which we co-exist. I didn’t, however, check to see if the toilet paper in their ladies room was made from recycled Whole Foods shopping bags. But I think it’s safe to say, this local spot encompasses the values and ideologies we treasure about San Diego’s green life.

Val Gysler is an English major at City College and divides her time between her tragically unfulfilling day job, her six-year-old son, Aidan, designing jewelry and finding time to incorporate something resembling a social life. Questions or comments, good or bad, may be appended to the article, or email Val here.