Reflections from Regen: There’s No Competition in Community.

This weekend, Kismet Cabana had the joy of being part of Regen – serving breakfast and dinner across both days, feeding lovely people, learning loads, and once again being completely moved by the way Jersey’s growing, farming and food community seems to open its arms when you step towards it with genuine curiosity.

On the food side, we served up our Jersey Hash – a dish we’re really proud of because it is 100% Jersey, traceable right back to each individual farm that contributed its ingredients. Proper local food, cooked with care, served in a field. Very much our kind of thing.

We also dished up our Squash Jerk Curry, bringing a little Kismet warmth, spice and sunshine to the weekend.

But we weren’t just there to serve food. We were there to learn. And honestly, I came with my pen in hand, ready to soak up as much practical knowledge as possible. Because while food and marketing are very much the worlds we know, agriculture is still new ground for me. Literally and figuratively.

Yes, work is now underway on our own growing venture, Wildling Farm – Market Garden, but we are at the very beginning. Over the last six months, I’ve been taking every opportunity I can to learn more about regenerative farming, soil health, growing, water, land use, food systems and what it really means to grow with care.

And being completely honest, being welcomed into spaces like Regen does bring up a bit of imposter syndrome. There’s that little voice that says: Who are you to be here? You haven’t proved yourself yet. You’re still learning. You’re just starting. And it’s true. I am just starting. But that’s also the exciting bit.

Because I can see where this could go. I can feel where we might be able to make a difference. And I am trying very hard to lean into the fear of the unknown rather than run away from it. There are worse mid-life crises to have than deciding to learn how to grow your own food, after all.

The weekend actually began, for me, at the launch dinner – which also happened to fall on my birthday. I was lucky enough to be invited along, and what a beautiful evening it was.

Chris from The Goodstone collaborated with members of Jersey’s Filipino community, many of whom are such an important part of the Island’s agricultural workforce, to create a menu of Filipino dishes including flame-grilled pork, goat satay, peanut curry and noodles.

I found myself sitting among lovely company, at a rustic table, feeling completely welcomed. And then, to top it all off, some of the wonderful people from the Seed to Seed smallholding course realised it was my birthday and brought out one of the gorgeous Mango Float desserts with candles on it.

I mean. Come on!

Field food, community, candles, kindness and mango. Not a bad way to turn another year older.

Across the weekend, the learning came thick and fast.

There were tree-planting and microbial fungi tips from Ben Parks of Trees for Life. There was my second opportunity to listen to Charles Dowding, whose no-dig knowledge is always both calming and completely practical. There was green lasagne composting from our lovely friend Jock from Soil Farm over in Guernsey, and it was brilliant to feel the energy and collaboration coming from Jock, Sasha and Dawn as they work towards a wider Channel Island Sustainable Food Network.

That bigger conversation feels so important. As islands, we are vulnerable. We are heavily dependent on imports. We are used to convenience. We know what we care about in theory – local food, resilience, community, sustainability – but modern life often pulls us in the opposite direction.

That dissonance is something I think about a lot.

What people say they value and what they can realistically do day-to-day are not always the same thing. Not because people don’t care, but because life is busy, convenience is seductive, money is tight, time is short and the system is not always built to make the better choice the easiest choice.

That is where The Pantry sits for us. We are not trying to guilt anyone into anything. We are trying to make proper food feel more possible. To remind people that convenience does not have to mean compromise. That local food is not just a luxury, or a nice idea, or something for people who already know where to look.

It is part of resilience. It is part of community. It is part of the circular pound. It is part of remembering why we should care where our food comes from.

From soil to soul.

One of the most useful workshops for me personally was with Laura from Batsend Farm, who demonstrated building a hugelkultur bed using a slightly different technique to ones I’d seen before. That is something I now plan to directly replicate at Wildling Farm.

I also had one of those surreal little moments when Jess McGovern included my video about Laura’s smallholding course in her own presentation. Seeing our story on screen, in that setting, was such a privilege. I felt genuinely grateful – and a bit emotional – to feel so welcomed into the conversation.

But the real emotional “ah-ha” moment came when Joanna Bowen, one of the founders of Groundswell, took to the stage after watching the video.

She spoke about how everyone can flourish when we work together. How, as a community, we can mirror the behaviour of microbial fungi. How connections matter. How information should be shared, not protected. How we can each focus on being our own hypha – making the next connection, taking the next step, opening the next conversation.

And that landed.

Because we are often expected to write business plans and know exactly what will happen next year, or in five years, or ten years. But the truth is, we have no idea what conversation tomorrow might open up. We do not know who we might meet next week, what opportunity might appear next month, or what collaboration might gently nudge the whole direction of a project.

Sometimes the plan is important. And sometimes the magic is in staying open enough to let the plan evolve.

That really resonated with me because it is how we have always tried to approach Kismet and The Pantry.

Of course there are other caterers in Jersey. Of course there are other farm shops, food producers, growers, chefs, cafés and restaurants. But we have never believed that community should be treated like competition. We all bring something different. Our own flavour, our own people, our own little sprinkle of magic. And the bigger picture is this: collaboration makes all of us richer.

There is no point being the only good restaurant in a village full of places nobody wants to visit. The more brilliant, generous, creative, thoughtful food businesses Jersey has, the more reason people have to show up, explore, support, taste and care.

That applies to food. It applies to farming. It applies to growing. It applies to community. And maybe that was the message I needed to hear.

Because alongside all the excitement, there are still very real grown-up pressures in the background. Finances. Time. Work. Family. Risk. That little voice asking whether this is brave, foolish, or some slightly bonkers blend of the two.

Joanna’s words felt like a message from the universe, gently quietening the self-sabotaging doubts and saying:

Yes. You are in the right place. Keep going. Take the next step. Build the next connection. It’s going to be OK.

We are chipping away.

We are clearing, learning, listening and laying foundations at Wildling Farm. We are getting our hands in the soil. We are working out what we can grow, what we need to protect, what we need to ask for help with and how this little piece of land might eventually feed into The Pantry, Kismet and the wider community.

We are new to this part.

But we are not new to food. We are not new to gathering people. We are not new to telling stories. We are not new to caring deeply about Jersey, its producers and its potential.

And after Regen, I feel even more sure that this is the direction we are meant to be walking in. A huge thank you to everyone I spoke to over the last few days, to everyone who shared knowledge so generously, and to the organisers of Regen for creating such an outstanding local event. It was thoughtful, practical, beautifully broad, brilliantly organised and held in a fantastic setting.

We came to serve food.

We left with full notebooks, muddy ideas, new connections and very full hearts.

Soil to soul, always.

You can follow our growing journey here – @WildlingFarm.je