When the FLOWERS come alive; Summer Dinner Tours at All Dahlia’d Up

There is a moment during every dinner tour that I get to step back.

The guests have arrived. The flowers are in place. The tables are set. The food is coming together. Everyone has been given a chance to wander through the gardens, ask questions, make something with their own hands and take in the place I have spent so many years growing.

And then, suddenly, all of those individual details we’ve planned weave together.

The flowers come alive.

It’s always my favorite part. 

On August 8 and September 6, we welcomed 32 guests each evening to our farm for two very different summer evenings.

And while the both experiences flow is almost same, Mother Nature gave each dinner its own personality.

It begins at the Flower Cart by Flower Stand.

Guests arrived and checked in at the flower stand, where they signed their names on a beautiful designed coaster before heading down the purple-flag trail.

This year, the flower stand itself was intentionally simple. We didn’t have an abundance of flowers to fill it, so instead it became a place to welcome guests, share a few farm goods and send everyone on their way into the evening.

From there, they made their way through the Sweet Pea Tunnel for a glass of bubbly, music and the beginning of the tour.

I use a singing bowl engraved with the Flower of Life to gather everyone together. It has become one of those little rituals of our dinner tours. One ring of the bowl tells everyone it’s time to gather, listen, raise a glass, change activities—or simply turn their attention back to the group.

The story of how the farm began.

From there, we walk through the farm and its evolution—from those first gardens to the fields and growing spaces we have today.

I tell the story of how the farm has grown, but I also talk about something that is important to me and many Alaskans: Alaska Grown.

Growing flowers in Alaska is not always easy. Our growing season is short, our weather can be unpredictable, and there is an incredible amount of work behind every flower that makes it into a bouquet or onto a dinner table.

But there is something pretty special about growing food and flowers right here.

Our guests have the opportunity to walk through the dahlia garden and field production areas, touch the plants, see what’s blooming and ask questions.

It’s not just looking at flowers.

It’s seeing where they come from.

Then comes the flower fun.

After the tour, everyone gets to create a centerpiece for their place at the dinner table.

I love watching this happen.

People who may have never considered themselves “creative or a professional designer” start choosing stems, sniping and moving blooms around, trying combinations, laughing and helping each other.

And then comes my favorite part.

We take a the flowers for group photograph with Pioneer Peak behind us.

Then everyone places their flower arrangement at their table setting and steps away.

The photographer captures the table scape magic.

And every year I marvel at the shear beauty. No dinner or year ever looks the same.

Because these aren’t arrangements made by professional floral designers.

They’re 32 individual expressions of creativity, made by people who were simply given a bucket of flowers and permission to play.

And when they all come together across one long table, something happens.

The flowers come alive.

August: the height of summer.

Our August dinner felt like summer in every possible way.

The weather was spectacular. I wore shorts and a flowy floral top. The light was beautiful, the sweet peas making their presence known, snapdragons were blooming, and the first dahlias were beginning to show off.

We ate al fresco near the Sweet Pea Tunnel with Pioneer Peak as our backdrop.

We had a wonderful mix of returning guests and new faces, including the ladies from Alaska News Source, which made the evening especially fun.

Because our dahlias were only beginning their big show, we brought in beautiful peonies from Taffy at Alaska Peony Works for the flower workshop.

And then there was the food.

Alaska chef Lizzie Hartman created a beautiful farm dinner filled with color and fresh ingredients—rainbow lentil salad, Mediterranean salad, golden and red beet salad with mint, wild rice with fresh herbs, purple cabbage puree, Green Goddess chicken, birch syrup BBQ ribs, farm-fresh vegetables with rhubarb vinaigrette and sourdough bread with fairy butter.

Dessert was a Fireweed and Rhubarb Pavlova with fireweed syrup, rhubarb compote and edible flowers.

It was the kind of meal that felt completely at home on a flower farm in Alaska.

September: rain, dahlias and a double rainbow.

September gave us a completely different evening.

The temperatures were cooler. The first leaves were beginning to turn yellow. We had moments of sunshine mixed with rain showers.

So we moved dinner under the protection of our newly built high tunnel name Big Girl.

And honestly?

It was magical.

Everyone kept commenting on the sound of the rain.

The high tunnel became cozy, intimate and unexpectedly beautiful. The acoustics were wonderful for our musicians, too.

And then, as if the evening needed one more bit of magic, a double rainbow appeared over the mountains.

Rain.

Flowers.

Food.

Music.

Mountains.

A rainbow.

Sometimes Alaska really does show off.

By September, even though our dahlia production was down due to unpredictable cooler summer temperatures we got to use 100% All Dahlia’d Up flowers for the dinner arrangements.

At one point, I brought out a bucket of sunflowers, and the reaction from the guests was priceless.

There is just something about a bucket of sunflowers.

September also brought our largest number of returning guests, which is something I never take for granted. Some people have been coming back year after year.

And this year, a couple of ladies traveled all the way from Ohio to join us.

It was wonderful.

Around the table.

Details matter.

We use beautiful floral mismatched vintage dishes and glasses. Never paper or plastic. 

Each place setting has a beautiful wood dahlia coaster engraved with the All Dahlia’d Up logo on the back for guests to take home.

There are individually wrapped, locally made chocolate truffles tied with ribbon.

Of corse there are flowers.

A table runner.

A wine bar with a few white and red selections, plus whatever bubbly remains from the welcome reception. Non-alcoholic options are available, too.

Coffee comes with dessert.

Chilled bottles of water grab a bottle and enjoy.

And there is music.

This year, Lisa Good—who has been making music for 40 years—joined us with harmonica player John Shlomar.

Then there is the food.

Both dinners were Alaska-grown and filled with farm-fresh vegetables.

In August, Lizzie Hartman created her colorful, whimsical menu.

In September, Lamar of Fromagio’s Artisan Cheese brought back his much-requested fried chicken, surrounded by end-of-summer vegetables sourced from my husband’s family vegetable farm and my brother-in-law’s farm.

There was smoked tri-tip, farm pickles, fresh Alaska potatoes, zucchini, broccoli, cauliflower with chili crisp, focaccia, biscuits, French cultured butter—and Vanderweele strawberry cheesecake for dessert.

These meals become apart to the experience in every way.

What happens when you invite people in?

I’ve hosted these dinner tours for many years.

They have changed over time.

The farm has changed.

I have changed.

And the way I think about inviting people onto this place has changed, too.

These evenings have lots of moving parts and are a tremendous amount of work behind the scenes to make it all run smoothly. They are like putting on weddings.

This year though had me thinking magic doesn’t necessarily come from making things bigger.

It comes from bringing people into the farm.

Letting them walk through the gardens.

Letting them ask questions.

Giving them flowers and letting them play.

Sharing an Alaska-grown meal.

Listening to the rain on the high tunnel.

Watching Pioneer Peak change in the evening light.

Hearing the music drift across the farm.

And standing back to see what everyone created together.

That is the part I don’t want to lose.

I’m still figuring out exactly what the future of the dinner tours will look like. Perhaps they’ll return in a simpler, more intimate form. Perhaps they’ll become something different altogether, woven into the history of This Place here on farm.

I don’t know yet.

But I do know this:

There is something incredibly special about opening the gate and inviting people into a place that has taken so many years to grow.

And when those people take the flowers you’ve grown and create something beautiful together—

for just one evening—

the flowers come alive.