Behind The Scenes Of The Farm Store Build — Episode 6
It has been a hot minute since I’ve been here on the podcast, and it’s long overdue.
But I’ve got a pretty good excuse: we were deep in the build-out of our new farm store (the one that opened in October), and this season has been all hands on deck.
So today I want to pull back the curtain and share what this process actually looked like for us including where we started, what pushed us into the expansion, what went sideways (because of course it did), and where we’re at now.
From the Teeny Tiny Farm Gate Stand… to “Pick & Pack”
If you shopped with us at our old property, you might remember what we lovingly called the teeny tiny farm gate stand.
It was so small that if Jay and I held hands, we could each touch opposite walls. One glass-front freezer. A little counter. A few shelves with maybe ten retail items total that were mostly products I was picking up from vendors I’d sell alongside at the farmers market.
Then COVID happened, we sold that property, and moved to where we are now.
We stopped markets, leaned hard into home delivery, and used a pre-existing space on the farm to pack orders and send orders out. Eventually, people started asking if they could shop in person again, so we let customers come into what became our “Pick & Pack” store.
And I want to say this with a lot of respect, because that space served us well: Pick & Pack was exactly what it sounded like.
It wasn’t cute or curated at all, I like to call it scrappy. It did the job but you were basically stepping into our workspace and poking through freezers.
It worked… until it didn’t.
The Thing That Actually Started All of This
The butcher shop needed more walk-in cooler and freezer space.
We were outgrowing our capacity, and there was nowhere else to go so one day Jay came to me and said, “I think we need to build a new walk-in freezer and a new walk-in cooler.”
Now, a little context: we farm on nine different leases in the Lower Mainland, we don’t own the land we farm here. We do own our ranch up in Rock Creek, but down here, the farm you visit is actually Jay’s family property. It’s where he was born and raised.
So Jay went to his parents to ask if we could add onto the building to support the butcher shop.
They said yes, and then they said something that changed everything:
Instead of building onto an old building… why don’t you move into a different building on the farm?
They offered us a space that had been used for storage because they could see what we couldn’t ignore anymore: the traffic, the staff vehicles, the customer flow. They knew a small addition would only be a band-aid.
And honestly… they were right.
Why I Didn’t Want a “Big Fancy Farm Store”
My father-in-law has been telling us for years to build a bigger store.
And I kept saying no.
Not because I didn’t want growth but because I didn’t want the debt load that comes with building something from scratch. At the end of the day, that cost gets passed on to customers, and I wasn’t confident we could make that kind of overhead work without compromising what matters to us.
There are businesses in our area doing the big, stunning farm-store thing really well. Multi-generational families. Gorgeous spaces that feel like full-on grocery stores.
I’m a first-generation producer. We don’t own the land. And I didn’t want to put our farm in a position where we were trying to outshine someone else’s million-dollar retail space.
I wanted us to stay in our lane.
But then I remembered something from my early days: when you build too small, you pay for it twice.
I’ve been the person who thought a walk-in freezer was “massive”… and then watched it become overflowing in under a year.
So when this expansion became possible in a pre-existing building, without the same infrastructure costs as building from scratch, I finally got on board.
The Hardest Part Wasn’t Construction
Jay is exceptional at construction.
The hard part was building while still running a business that’s already a full beast.
We are busy, and we are not overstaffed because margins in farming are tight. And direct-to-consumer can be tight too, because we carry expenses at every single step: farm, butcher shop, packaging, retail, delivery. We incur costs all along that chain.
So when Jay and I (and Jagger) were doing so much of the work ourselves, it pulled us out of the areas only we can do.
Admin started slipping. Customer communication started slipping. I brought in a virtual assistant just to keep up with emails so we could maintain good service.
Jay wasn’t spending as much time in the butcher shop, which meant we weren’t cutting as fast and we had to pull back on processing appointments.
So at the exact time we had the most expenses going out for the build… we intentionally reduced revenue coming in.
It was the right call operationally, but it was not for the faint of heart.
And then, as these projects tend to do, it grew.
It started as “walk-in freezer and cooler.”
It turned into “new farm store.”
And then Jay said, “What if we add a commercial kitchen while we’re at it?”
Adding a Kitchen (and Why It Made Sense)
We’ve worked with Chef Adrian for years — probably eight at this point, maybe more.
He actually came to me at the very beginning of our farming journey because he wanted to use our chicken in his restaurant. That relationship has grown over time into the prepared foods line you see now.
So while I’m not going to get too in the weeds here (I’ll link the prepared foods episode in the show notes), adding a kitchen made sense if we were already doing construction.
It was a big push. But it was one of those decisions that sets us up for the future.
The Inspection That Nearly Took Me Out
We were coming down to the wire.
Jay wanted a grand opening. I wanted a quiet switch — one day you shop in Pick & Pack, the next day there’s a sign that says “Farm Store this way.”
But Jay and Adrian were right: that didn’t fit who we are. We’ve hosted long table events and community moments for years. So we planned a proper opening.
Here’s the problem: we still needed Fraser Health approval, and I was terrified I’d promote the opening and then have to send an email saying, “Actually… never mind.”
And then… the morning of inspection, the water stopped.
Not everywhere on the farm. Just in the new building.
Chef Adrian turned on the tap to do a final mop and the pressure slowly dropped… and dropped… and then nothing.
This was during the atmospheric river week so the rain was unreal.
Jay and I went into full problem-solving mode. I ran back and forth to the well house shutting off the pump, grabbing tools, sprinting across the property. Jay was cutting into plumbing, blowing into lines, digging in the mud trying to find the issue.
People kept telling me we needed to cancel the inspection.
We did not cancel the inspection.
With about three minutes to spare, Jay figured out a faulty brass fitting had broken a piece off inside the pipe and lodged itself.
We had just enough spare parts left behind by the plumber. Jay rebuilt it. Adrian turned on the water.
It worked.
The inspector showed up. Jay ran to the house to change because he was covered in mud. I started the inspection solo. The inspector turned the tap on, and I swear my heart stopped for a second.
Water came out.
We passed with flying colours and they even did an impromptu butcher shop inspection at the same time. No issues.
We got the green light to open three days before the grand opening.
Grand Opening: One Car… and Then Hundreds
Nine o’clock rolled around on opening day and there was one car in the parking lot.
One gentleman. That’s it.
And I had this moment of panic like… Kendall, this is why you market harder than this.
Because I barely promoted it. I was so worried we wouldn’t pass inspection that I held back.
But then you showed up.
And I mean… you SHOWED UP.
It was record-crushing. Hundreds of shoppers through the store. It was so packed I didn’t even know what to do with myself. Cards. Flowers. Kind words. People excited to see the space.
If you came that day: thank you. Truly.
The “Not Everything Is Positive” Part
The farm store has been an absolute positive — but it also comes with realities I need to keep a close eye on.
Here are the two biggest ones:
Delivery orders have dropped. We’re seeing more people come to the farm store (including lots of new customers), but fewer delivery orders. And because we run delivery in-house, it’s not cost effective to send a truck to Vancouver or the North Shore if it isn’t full. I don’t want to stop delivering to certain areas, so we’re going to be leaning into how we market and support that side of the business.
Our hours have expanded. We’re now open six days a week, and I’m watching closely to see whether that creates more revenue… or simply spreads shoppers out across more days. With slim margins, we can’t overstaff. Our team does a lot more than just stand at a counter — we’re packing orders, supporting the butcher shop, managing inventory and restocks, and keeping the entire machine moving.
We’ll give the new hours time and watch the data. But I’m being honest: I’m paying attention.
What We Wanted the Space to Feel Like
Here’s what’s been the most rewarding part:
Seeing people walk in and say it feels cozy. Welcoming. Like home.
That was the goal.
We built the store to feel different than a traditional retail checkout setup. There isn’t a formal “cash desk.” There’s a big kitchen island in the middle. You grab what you need, pile it up, and we check you out like you’re shopping with friends.
We have leather chairs in the corner — and honestly, one of my favourite sights has been customers sitting down and just… hanging out. Talking. Catching up. Taking their time.
That’s the part I missed.
What’s Coming Next
This new space opens up a lot:
Cooking classes are coming back with Chef Adrian (we used to do them at the old farm).
We’re bringing back more long table dinners, hot lunch days, and pop-up food moments.
Jay’s already planning an outdoor space so you can grab lunch from the farm kitchen, let the kids burn off steam, or bring a picnic blanket and sit out in the pasture for a bit.
It’s going to be a fun year.
And to everyone who has supported us, whether you shop, share our posts, tell a friend, or listen to the podcast — thank you. Those “small” things are the reason we get to keep doing this here.