By Maneet Chauhan with Mikeie Honda Reiland
Photographs by Diana King

May 25, 2021

Most people think of Southern food as meat-and-three, barbecue, deep-fried. But for Sylvia Harrelson Ganier, the chief farm operator at Green Door Gourmet in West Nashville, Southern cuisine means fresh produce and seasonal products.

I first met Sylvia at an event in her Grand Barn in 2015. Right away, I felt enamored. She was, and is, a fountain of stories. I loved hearing her talk about growing up on a dairy farm in the mountains of Cherryville, North Carolina.

Years later, I found out that she originally moved to Nashville for music. She sings like Patsy Cline, and she used to DJ a 5 a.m. radio show in Cherryville. But Sylvia prefers serving others to taking center stage.

In 2006, after a long career as a Nashville chef, Sylvia felt ready to retire. She and her husband, Al, bought a 350-acre farm and fenced off 9 acres for her kitchen garden.

Over the years, that kitchen garden has expanded into Green Door Gourmet, where Sylvia and her staff grow organic produce on 152 acres. They host weddings and farmers markets. They teach children how to raise vegetables. Out of the main store, they sell flowers and produce, sourdough and kombucha.

Maneet Chauhan and Sylvia Harrelson Ganier stroll through kale, onions and carrots in a hoop house at Green Door Gourmet. What started off as a 9-acre garden has grown to a 152-acre operation.

Ever since that night in the barn, I've looked up to Sylvia. When I face a difficult situation, I sometimes ask myself, "What would Sylvia do?" She's passionate about all the right things — farming, health, and education. She cares about the next generation, and she's generous with her stories and expertise.

Through Sylvia, I fell in love with Nashville; fell in love with the South. To me, she embodies the ideal Southerner — hospitality, sass, resilience. Grit and drive. The salt of the earth. The “crazy girl in the red cowgirl boots” singing to her plants.

In mid-May, we spent a morning walking around her farm. We could've spoken for hours. We talked about the New South and Dolly Parton, plants and rebellion. We picked fresh strawberries, and I spent more money than I care to admit in the farm store.

Near the end of our visit — on a beautiful, mild, late spring day in Nashville, as we strolled from gazebo to greenhouse and back again — Sylvia still had one story left to share.

Soon after she bought the farm in 2006, Sylvia traveled to Milan, Ohio, to attend the Culinary Vegetable Institute as a chef. Throughout the event, she wore her red boots. She represented her city.

Among the amazing chefs in attendance was a quiet blond woman serving ice cream. She told Sylvia that she'd expanded locally, but hadn't branched out much.

"I'm going to get your ice cream to Nashville," Sylvia told the woman. "Don't you worry. You will be here."

The woman shipped her sweet corn and black raspberry ice cream down to Nashville. And at Sylvia's next barbecue on the farm, they hand-dipped ice cream for 1,100 people.

That woman’s name was Jeni Britton Bauer. Sylvia brought Jeni's Ice Cream to Nashville. And sweet corn and black raspberry is still her favorite flavor.

• • •

Ganier, holding a bouquet of red clover, says, “I grew up on a dairy farm in the mountains of North Carolina. So farming was just there. I didn't know that everybody didn't farm. I didn't know that most people didn't go out and pick their dinner or have to can everything they were going to keep through the winter. It took until high school and college for me to realize, this is a whole different ball of wax in this big ol’ other world.”

Maneet Chauhan: When I was doing my research, I saw a few videos of you singing.

Sylvia Harrelson Ganier: My alter ego.

MC: Do you sing to your plants?

SHG: Of course I do! And I talk to them, too. Some need scolding if they're not growing well. Some need a little bit more encouragement. "Grow, babies. You need to grow! Mommy needs some new ones, c'mon!"

MC: That's amazing. Did you always think or know that you wanted to be a farmer?

SHG: No. As a kid, I wanted to be a baker because I liked to play in dirt. You would find me with old pimento cheese containers. Anything that was cast out from the kitchen, I would be sitting in a mud hole, making cakes out of it, decorating it with wild sorrel, decorating it with acorns off the oak tree. Sort of organic, if you will, hands in the dirt. And hanging out with a puppy, or 10, or 12.

MC: How did you go from baking to farming?

SHG: Well, I grew up on a dairy farm in the mountains of North Carolina. So farming was just there. I didn't know that everybody didn't farm. I didn't know that most people didn't go out and pick their dinner or have to can everything they were going to keep through the winter. It took until high school and college for me to realize, this is a whole different ball of wax in this big ol’ other world.

MC: Right.

SHG: I've always known that I love to grow things, love to cook. My dad loved to sing, so that came from just hanging out on the farm with him and singing and playing music. So that's how it all came together. I knew that I wanted to farm once I retired from the restaurant industry. And now I can never retire because I'm a farmer!

MC: (Laughing) So when you retired from the restaurant industry, you decided to get into something even harder and tougher? The restaurant industry is chaotic, but it's still controlled chaos because you're not so dependent on external environments. In farming, aren't you at the mercy of those external factors?

SHG: Absolutely. And what we go through trickles down to the restaurant industry. You've been through a tomato shortage, you've seen strawberries that are already starting to fade when they come in because they've got water on them. We deal with everything that Mother Nature hands us, with everything that having employees hands us, with equipment that breaks right when you need to plow the field.

MC: Murphy's Law.

SHG: It's always that way. All those little things make you learn to go with the flow and to be creative and improvise. Especially this past year, we had more resilience to deal with crises every minute of every day. We had the resolve to say, "Things are going to happen, and we have to change." I think emotionally, farmers were able to cope better than most over the past year.

MC: One of my favorite moments from this past year was when I came to the farm and you showed me those tomatoes in the barn. What really spoke to me was how you were talking about each and every variety. You showed me this box of tomatoes like you were showing me your jewelry box. There were these different shapes and colors and textures. That was a big "aha" moment for me. Just an example of what farmers do and contribute.

I still have photos of you holding that box. And when things get crazy, I really do ask myself, "What would Sylvia do?" Because you've talked about pivoting, about how you find solutions. So that was a huge moment for me.

In my very new Southern life, you are, in my view, the most quintessential Southerner. What does it mean for you to be a Southerner, and how has that view evolved over time?

SHG: I'm a mountain Southerner, right? That's different from any other kind of Southerner. Because that is resilience. Whatever we're handed, we'll figure it out. For hundreds of years, mountain folk have said, "I don't have a chair. Let's go get some sticks and put them together. I don't have something to eat. What can I forage?"

And to me, being a Southerner is resourcefulness and resilience and connectivity. True Southerners, to me, have an inherent ability to find some connection anywhere across the planet. If you're in France sitting at a table in Alsace, you think, "This tastes like something my mom used to make in the mountains of North Carolina!"

Because we're all connected. And a Southerner will find that connectivity. They'll sit across from you and say, "Right, let's share a meal and figure out what we have in common."

MC: And that's Southern hospitality, right? I still remember when I met you, when we had that event in your barn. We were all plating, and I was so new in Nashville, still trying to figure this all out. And just the way everyone jumped in and started plating, I'll always appreciate it.

SHG: You've got to be in it. You can't stand idly by. Maybe that's another thing that makes a great Southerner. We've seen it in Nashville during the 2010 flood, during the tornadoes last year. That is ubiquitous. You are a true Southerner once you are giving as much as you're getting.

MC: Do you think the South has changed?

SHG: Well … the world is a much smaller place, right? I think the South has changed in its ability to take in new things. But we're also finding our place in the world. You might talk about polenta if you're in Italy, but here it's grits. What's the commonality? Jack Daniel’s is on the bar across the world. The South has wonderful things to offer the world, but the world also has things for us to take and bring into our culture.

MC: How did you meet your husband?

SHG: I met my husband when I was catering. I had just stepped off a plane from France, where I was visiting my friends: a chef and a wine négociant. Coming through the airport, I saw a friend. I told him I was starting my own catering company, and he knew someone who was looking for catering help. The next morning, Al called me.

"My daughter is getting ready to go to the Sorbonne," he told me, "and I'd like to do a French-style family lunch."

Well, I'd just gotten back, so France was fresh in my mind. I started catering. He asked me out. I said no, told him I don't date clients. It took three years. And finally, he had to fire me so he could get a date.

MC: (Laughing) That is so incredible.

SHG: And then we got married, and I asked for a small kitchen garden. So he fenced 9 acres of this farm as that garden. And now that 9 acres has morphed into 152 acres in production.

MC: So when he got the farm, was it already organic, or did you have to make that switch?

SHG: "Organic" is an interesting word. It means many things to many people right now. The farm hadn't been farmed intensively for a while. So it was easy for us to make the transition into what would be called "certified organic." There were a lot of fields that were just overgrown. So it was a lot of bush hogging. The paperwork was the hard part. Not enough people to do the paperwork!

MC: Always, right? (Points) Is that a carrot?

SHG: A little baby carrot! (Picks it up, hands to Maneet) For you.

MC: Better than flowers! All of this … the older I get, the more I appreciate the wonder of it, the miracle of it.

SHG: It is truly a miracle when a seed becomes something you can eat. But what I really love is when you take some kale leaves, a little Swiss chard, wash that off, make it just like a bouquet, you know?

MC: That's beautiful. Such a great idea.

SHG: Sustainable flowers right there in the form of carrots.

MC: Is that wood sorrel right there?

SHG: Have you ever garnished your plates with wood sorrel before?

MC: Yes! It's so beautiful.

SHG: One girl's weeds … are another chef's garnish!

MC: What's been the most rewarding aspect of your journey? How long did it take you to get here?

SHG: Every day, we're growing more. It's not like we're at the epitome of where we want to be. There's always change. There's always something new to try. If I'm not creating something new, I'm probably not going to be very happy. If you're not moving forwards, you're moving backwards.

But we've built all these buildings in 12 years. We've figured out how to get this landscape, get the greenhouses. It's been a hard dozen years. But we're there!

MC: I think you're one of the few people who has gotten farmers to the forefront … at least in my book. You're talking about vegetables and fruits and flowers and everything that comes from the earth. I think you've helped start this trend. Eleven Madison [Park] is going completely plant-based. Everything is trending toward plant-based because it's so much more environmentally sustainable than meat.

SHG: I think people have this misconception of meat-and-three being Southern cuisine. And it certainly is a form of Southern cuisine, and it's wonderful. And I love it. Bring on the soul food and I'm a happy girl. But growing up in the mountains, you would have one cow for your year, one pig for your season. You would have a few chickens. So you had meat on Sunday. You might have eggs for breakfast, but you didn't eat the chicken because you needed eggs. So you used the ham hock, a few different pots of beans.

MC: Right.

SHG: So I think Southern food is truly a plant-based food. Give me the okra, give me the field peas. Give me the corn when it's in season. Give me the tomato that you can eat right off the vine like it's an apple. That's Southern. That's Southern food, that's Southern culture. When Southerners get together, they talk about food. Usually, the first thing they say is, "Did you eat? Can I get you a glass of tea?"

We want to feed you. Because we know if we can break bread together, we're going to get along. But if you're like, "Sweet tea, what's that?" Well … (Laughs)

MC: The spoon needs to stand. That's one of the first things I learned.

SHG: The cornbread does not get sugar.

MC: THANK you!

SHG: The tea gets the sugar, the cornbread does not.

MC: Exactly. … (Pointing) Look at that turnip! Away from the rest.

SHG: It's a rebel. And it's not where it should be. Sometimes, with rebels, you've got to let them do their thing, let them stand out.

MC: We always need some rebels.

SHG: Spoken like one!

MG: Tell me about it. My parents are so confused. So, next question: I know that you're very passionate about education, about teaching people. And everything is constantly changing.

SHG: That's how you learn.

MC: Right. But how do you learn? How are you getting your knowledge to figure out the next steps?

SHG: I'm a voracious reader. I'm always listening. There are a lot of people who know a lot more than I do in certain arenas. And if they're trying something new or dealing with a particular problem, I want to know about it. You're always adapting. You're always thinking about the dumb things you just did and how to learn from them. And believe you me, we've done a lot of dumb things.

MC: That's always the biggest learning experience.

SHG: So you were asking about education. One of my greatest pleasures is teaching kids about farming and food. When you see a child pull a carrot out of the ground, all of a sudden, they'll eat that carrot. They'll eat that radish. They're going to cram so many strawberries in their mouths.

MC: That's beautiful. So what's the future of farming for you?

SHG: The future of farming for me is focusing on Southern heirloom flavors. Capturing those flavors, reintroducing them to a larger populace. Whether it's sorghum, Tennessee red corn, or red mammoth peanuts, taking those flavor profiles and amplifying their reach. That's my next mission in farming, coupled with education. We want to show people that you might not have 152 acres in production, but you have a raised bed. You can still grow some of your own food and reconnect with the earth and teach your kids about nature.

MC: If there's one piece of advice you could give to people who just moved to the South, what would it be?

SHG: Be kind. Be resilient. Take care of your health, take care of your neighbors, take care of your friends.

MC: #WhatWouldSylviaDo? That's forever in my mind.

SHG: That's pretty good, because it's usually, "What would Dolly do?" I'm moving up in the world!

MC: With Dolly, it's usually the hair. Every time I'm on set, I'm like, "Higher! Higher!" That's what Dolly said. Closer to God!

SHG: If it's not hitting the ceiling fan, it's not high enough yet.

Mikeie Honda Reiland is a writer from Nashville. He is a first-year student in the University of Georgia's narrative nonfiction MFA program.
Diana King is a Chinese American portrait, lifestyle, fashion, and commercial photographer. She is the creator and director of “Almost Asian, Almost American,” an ongoing photo and video essay project that allows Asian American women to define their own beauty and identity. Diana is passionate about supporting BIPOC creatives and is currently a member of the Diversity and Inclusion Committee for American Photographic Artists (APA), a national photo organization that advocates for the rights of photographers.