A well-worn knife resting on a wooden cutting board
How it started

One folding table at the Bandon farmers market

In the summer of 2019 we set up a folding table between a flower farm and a guy selling smoked salmon, with exactly eleven boards wrapped in butcher paper. They were gone by ten thirty.

We didn't invent anything. People have been putting good cheese next to good meat next to good bread for centuries. What we do is pay attention: to what's ripe this week, to which creamery hit their stride, to how a board should look when the lid comes off in front of people you love.

The kitchen came in 2021 — a converted storefront on Second Street with a walk-in, a wall of cutting boards, and a standing rule that nothing goes out the door we wouldn't serve at our own table. The Go Cart came in 2023, because folks kept asking us to bring the whole spread to weddings, and honestly, we wanted an excuse to buy a little red cart.

Today it's still a small crew: two of us building boards before dawn, one driver, and a rotating cast of teenagers who fold gift boxes after school. That's the whole company. That's the point.

brand voice & story by Rooted Coast Design

Where we work

The south coast feeds the boards

Cheddar from Coos County creameries. Berries from Langlois in July. Honey from a beekeeper two roads over. Smoked albacore when the boats are lucky. We buy close to home first, then fill in with the good stuff from the valley.

It means the menu shifts with the season — and that a January board and a July board are honestly different animals. We think that's a feature.

Sea stacks rising from the ocean along the Oregon coast
House rules

Four things we won't budge on

Cut the morning ofalways
Buy from neighbors firstalways
Real answers about allergensalways
Shortcutsnever

Come taste what the fuss is about.

Build your board