Welcome to Weed Witching Season
From Los Angeles to Massachusetts, a look at what's happening coast-to-coast
Hi readers,
A few months ago, Substack sent me an email nudging me to update this newsletter.
Hi Carly,
It’s been a few months. Do you need marketing tips on how to be a better writer and sell your newsletter? Shout if you need us!
Love,
Substack
I didn’t take the advice, clearly, as it took a few months to put pen to paper. Realizing the newsletter needed a fresh start, the stars aligned as I browsed the racks at Casa Magazines in the West Village—a not-so-hidden favorite spot for periodic editorial encounters among the periodicals—gifting a chance encounter with a friend of designer Abbie Weissman, who dreamed up a new look just in time for weed witching season. Voila!
Some of you may have also noticed that @itstheweedwitch Instagram account has been deactivated. It’s true! As someone whose social presence consists mostly of proto-mukbang videos, weak attempts to become a bathtub and seltzer influencer, and the occasional update from my writing/work on the road, I was pretty taken aback receiving the ban hammer in May. Social media policies remain a frequent complaint among cannabis and psychedelics businesses, which is reasonable to be upset when a thriving cannabusiness loses its foothold on a large account or a few years of artwork is scrubbed from a benign 400-follower page by some faceless moderator.
Around this time, I attended a Pot d’Huile launch party event in New York City, where I met up with a fellow cannabis journalist turned sex magazine publisher who divulged his magazine’s Instagram account experienced similar turmoil until a friend on the inside flagged a ticket to get it reinstated. Reaching out to my own friend on the inside, I received a virtual finger-wagging about the legal status of cannabis and a firm “no”—even though I did this woman’s tarot, b y t h e w a y.
Publicist Alice Moon jumped to the rescue, directing me to the Instagram disabled help page, where I learned that I need to show business documents and hold up a photo of myself with some numbers to indicate I am a real person (like Kanye?). Ironically, the platform known for ruthlessly obtaining personal information for who-knows-what is also notorious for delaying/revoking status without much explanation—even if you’re compliant. All of this for a newsletter on topicals I am using to help reduce inflammation on my sprained ankle or whatever. Meanwhile, Sidetalk NYC has a video of some guy chugging bong water for their 1.4 million followers and that’s OK. Go figure.
Anyway, obviously I gave up for a while and that’s why you haven’t heard from me. Hi, I’m back now!
So, what was I up to? Having A Great Summer, of course! Not that it wasn’t filled with pain, pleasure, bleisure, music, dancing, tragedy, bonfires, and a little joint-fueled self-actualization, too—all marks of any good coming-of-age tale of a mid-thirties New York woman (Eat your heart out, Carrie Bradshaw).
The bulk of spring centered around my grandmother’s deteriorating health crisis until she finally passed in June, courtesy of the neglectful American medical system. After trudging through the pandemic and a few years of relentless geopolitical tension, I had thought I had exhausted my capacity for grief. Turns out, matrilineal passage hits different. The loss provided a heavy undercurrent for the next few months, making it challenging to focus on anything else, and requiring a kickstart to get back to business.
Because I am escape artist, I hopped a train to Hudson* shortly before the scorches of summer on a last-minute trip (Have you been? I wrote a book about it—buy it here!), then set out west for a last-minute road trip across America with my dear friend and incredibly gifted award-winning animator, Lou Morton.
*Quick note about Hudson: Half the city is closed on weekdays—including anywhere that would sell crutches to help hobble down its otherwise charmingly dilapidated streets to the Amtrak station after twisting your ankle the night before, kissing the pavement drunk on sparkling Sundstrom cider at the Tavern at Rivertown Lodge and the lingering aromatics of cocktail-scented perfume vials from The Maker Hotel’s sumptuous back alley bar (a place I only recently discovered shares the same owners as Bartlett House and Fresh Cosmetics—so everything is sumptuously Hudsonian in that way, of course).
Doing so will land you inconveniently in a soft, supported, bouncy and incredibly overpriced moonboot for roughly one month. You won’t be mad at Hudson for this and, in fact, may find yourself returning to the very same hotel for a very fashionable pool party just a few months later hosted by Mara Hoffman and Bontleng on the turntables, then running back to the Rivertown Lodge for a hurried bite of generously-sliced housemade rustic bread with cultured butter and seared scallops before sprinting to catch the last train to Grand Central. But I invite you to choose your own adventure.
About a week later, I flew to Los Angeles, the base for my reverse-Kerouacian weed-fueled On The Road adventure eastbound to Vegas, the Moab Desert, Denver, Omaha and Chicago—with stops along the way at several dispensaries and consumption lounges, two out of three Meow Wolf locations, a national park, a handful of casinos, a scene-y cannabis party, a multi-million dollar estate sale, several restaurants and bars, and a Coca-Cola themed basement of a retired woman’s home.
What’s new in L.A.?
After three long years, I found myself wedged between the edge of the Pacific and the Angeles Forest. During the pandemic, my best friend acquired a very nice property in Pasadena that should absolutely be featured in Architecture Digest and learned that apparently all my friends live on the east side now in Atwater Village, Highland Park and Eagle Rock. Divulging this information, sadly, means it’s only a matter of time until it’s “over” and everyone reflects on what a great time it was to live there before the next insufferable New York media hit piece on bicoastal living. Better hurry up!
From the plane, I made a beeline directly to the Sweet Flower dispensary in West Hollywood, dragging my suitcase, backpack and orthopedic boot-ridden leg to Woody Harrelson’s dispensary, The Woods, L.A.’s second “consumption lounge”—a term that will never not remind me of fainting Victorians—conveniently situated directly next to his bar, also called The Woods. Sweet Flower had a pretty great selection and some excellent deals. The Woods’ focus on small craft farmers with a seed-to-smoke ethos speaks to me as someone who very much believes climate change is real, and give snaps to its very good discount program.
Everyone loves a good haul—here’s mine:
Sweet Flower
Sonder Time Space Crystals in Stoned Fruit and Pineapple Party - Cannabis-spiked Pop Rocks from a queer-owned artsy company with super cute packaging? As if you need any more rationale on why you should buy this.
Space Coyote Live Resin-Infused 5-pack - Not only are these joints fabulously potent, but they also come in cool packaging that supports small artists.
Baby Jeeter Runtz - I have to thank Olivia Alexander of Kush Queen for turning me onto Baby Jeeters, which are beyond convenient for dog walker-length neighborhood walks. Plus, they’re covered in keef!
Fume Strawberry Bananaz - This was a last minute impulse buy because it was on sale, but the budtender’s eyes just lit up when I decided to tack it on. Most likely because it’s gorgeous sungrown bud.
Flow Kana The Milk and Peanut Butter Breath- Longtime fan of Flow Kana over here, best known for working exclusively with small batch artisan growers in The Emerald Triangle committed to sustainable practices.
The Woods
Brother David’s Blueberry Muffins - A Bay Area friend tipped me off about the blueberry muffin strain several years ago, which is something I cannot help but buy any time I see it. Kind of the same relationship I have with tuna melts: satisfying, delicious, and sets me up for a nap.
The Woods Maui Wowee - Not going to lie: once you’ve had a taste of the real deal in Maui, nothing else really compares. Still, it has all the effects I like and a brand with some good ethos.
710Labs Candy Chrome #7 - 710Labs doesn’t really need an introduction, but if you’ve never had one of their joints, they’re best known as the folks who use dried pasta as filters. I keep telling myself I am going to do this with joints and I never do it, but I love that they do and it’s a solid smoke.
Raw Garden Skydoggie and Saffron Sunset - I really don’t vape or dab as much as I used to, but stocked up on this anyway because Raw Garden’s vapes are legit.
Canna Country Farms #26 - Hands down one of my favorite strains. This blew me away. It smells tropical and fresh and was just a wonderful smoke.
After plowing through, I can confidently say they’re all good—the sign of a discerning dispensary. Still, being lightyears ahead of the rest of the world with cannabis legalization means the landscape is currently experiencing a bit of a clusterfuck of propriety strains and multi-hyphenate hybrids—not so dissimilar to New York’s beer tap rotational issues: challenging to develop loyalty. A recent visit to Chicago suggests similar issues with dispensary supply turnover.
Witnessed Scarface levels of trim piles strewn everywhere at a PRIDE cannabis pool party brimming with MTV Spring Break vibes—the hefty price to toke is a phone shoved in your face with demands to perform for an Instagram Reel with people who will never text you again. Overall, I’d say my top moment was waking up to wild coyotes and peacocks crowing like a rooster to the sunrise stretching from the mountains to the ocean, breathing in heavy a morning joint with a cup of coffee and ending my day at 2 p.m. And the food. Let’s get to the food.
The Food
I gained about 20 pounds. Here are my recommendations:
Side Pie: Altadena is kind of out of the way, but it’s worth it for this pizza joint that is a rare restaurant that I’ll cosign for the swag—mostly because they’re not restaurant swag. Just really good shirts. Get the Bobby Green (kale, mushroom, mozz, lemon oil, onion, Parm, garlic).
Cha Cha Chicken: You’d think I’d opt for the namesake chicken, but I ended up getting the coconut fried chicken with mango and jerk dipping sauces. Plus, if you time it right, you can hit the ocean in Santa Monica and saunter over to Chez Jay’s for a drink.
Atrium: I probably could have stayed at this restaurant all night and gone back a few times. The Moon Child is a cloudy mix of mezcal, rose, orgeat, caraway, lemon and toasted coconut studded with edible flowers. Order the B&G sourdough with Romesco butter and trout dip with lavash, which you’ll inevitably use both to swipe up your plates.
Colorado Wine Company: Did you know that California has a lot of wine? No? OK. Here, go read this. This place is great because their happy hour starts at 3 p.m., which was right after I finished my day, and they had a lot of really wonderful wine on tap at totally reasonable prices and an empty back patio.
Salazar: Are these the very best tacos and margaritas in Los Angeles? Probably not. But they’re still pretty damn good. And they have a really nice outdoor patio filled with a lot of attractive people.
Walt’s Bar: Pinball, hot dogs, good beer, and usually a head nod from someone when you casually mention you’re going there.
Vinovore: Was kind of instantly obsessed with this queer, woman-owned wine shop in Eagle Rock focused on natty wine. It was basically everything I ever wanted in a wine shop with really amazing snacks and cool home good (including sexy stuff!). Picked up a bottle of 2018 Cypres de Toi—a lovely little grenache from Languedoc made by a woman winemaker, Laetitia Ourlial—and the J. Brix Cobolorum pet-nat from Santa Barbara’s Emily Towe.
Gold Line and Checker Hall: This is a great place to go if you love to geek out on vinyl or see a show in a place that’s thematic, unpretentious and sexy. Our server at Checker Hall had just relocated from New York and was cackling at us about his new apartment with a pool.
Blue Plate Oysterette: Took an Uber to this Santa Monica seafood joint just to eat shellfish and sigh heavily at the ocean. I have no regrets.
Zankou Chicken: Zankou Chicken was actually one of the first places I insisted I go to during my very first visit to Los Angeles because of that Beck song. There is a reason this chicken and garlic sauce are immortalized in verse.
Club TeeGee: I was pretty drunk by the time I showed up here, and it was really dark. But, if you plan ahead, there are usually some pretty name-droppy comedians that tend to do sets here.
Tartine: San Francisco might be the O.G. of this iconic bakery, but I’m certainly not going to pass up getting one of the world’s best ham and cheese croissants and dropping another $30 on other baked goods and coffee. Why haven’t they opened one of these in New York yet?
What about weed witching season?
Ah, autumn. The temperamental season that is downright breathtaking at peak—yet always zips by, leaving us with the dead of winter sooner than we’d like. Make sure to take advantage of these weed witch-approved fall activities before the leaves shrivel up.
6 things to do for weed witching season
Make an heirloom apple pipe at an upstate New York cider and hemp farm. Finally, after years of wondering when someone was going to open a super cool farm-to-table weedcation in upstate New York, Beak & Skiff has taken the lead by opening a hemp research lab and farm on their apple orchard, distillery, and bed and breakfast situated in the Finger Lakes. Check out the tutorial below for how to make your own pipe.
See what’s next in cannabis at the Luxury Meets Cannabis Conference. If you don’t work in cannabis presently, you might find yourself going after your next dream job to attend this B2B conference at Hudson Yards, featuring the next-gen of luxury cannabis brands including Vessel, CANN, Farnsworth Fine Cannabis, Rebelle, Stone Road, Xula, oHHo, Leune, and more.
Read Glory Guitars: Memoirs of a Teenage Punk Rock Grrrl by Gogo Germaine. A gritty memoir about teenage rebellion, sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll—perfect weed witching reads for fall.
Make the pilgrimage to Salem, Grassachusetts. If you’re going to do a spooky fall foliage outing to Misogyny, U.S.A., make a pit stop at one of the many dispensaries that have opened in Salem, Massachusetts over the past few years, including Seagrass and INSA. While you’re there, say hi to wine director Scott Lefler at Ledger Restaurant and ask him about weed witches. Just for me, though.
Go to a cannabis farmers market in Vermont. Did you hear the news? Cannabis legalized in Vermont. I know. We already thought it was given that Ben & Jerry’s headquarters are there. But now you can legally buy it at a store. If you’re inclined towards CBD and Delta-8, check out Cannaflower, which ships nationwide.
Listen to The Return of Weed Witching Season playlist. Because it’s been awhile and there are witch songs that need listening to.
DIY Fall Project: Make an Apple Pipe
Fall makes me think of apples, harvest, cinnamon, spice, everything nice—and apple pipes, which I would make in college as a resident advisor, secretly smoking through a toilet paper roll stuffed with dryer sheets out the window.
Today, you’ll find much nicer ceramics and glassware, such as this ceramic apple from Summerland ($85) and apple pipe from Daily High Club ($29.99). Still, nothing beats a delightful throwback to a more earnest time in weed culture than making your very own heirloom apple from the local farmers market. Here’s how:
Step 1: Make a bowl by carving out the top of your apple.
Step 2: Using a nail, metal straw, or pen cap, punch a hole in the middle of the apple to allow for air flow.
Step 3: Make a hole that goes directly through this hole for your carb hole (typically used in pipes to regulate airflow).
Step 4: Fill with your favorite cannabis strain, light and smoke, by holding one finger over the hole and inhaling on the other side.
Take a deep breath, look outside and think about how beautiful the world is that you want to live in and what you can do to make it a better place.
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