Cachagua General Store is in jeopardy, but there's hope.

One of the best things about Cachagua General Store (659-1857) and its raucous Monday Night Dinners is you never know what might happen – beyond great grub like the “infamous” crab cakes, lamb osso bucco and mesquite-grilled Mishima Ranch Wagyu.

Feral peacocks might start screaming. Chef Michael Jones might call the sheriff on a customer refusing to leave his table to allow the second seating. Someone might break out castanets and dance to the banjo. Jones might break some plates. A dog might stand on the bar.

Anything seems possible. But as we drove out there last week, I realized I never included getting beat up by the chef among the possibilities.

But there was the text message from Jones, referring to a story I helped make happen that Monday (July 25) in which he is described as a “firebrand”: “Whomever the fuck [wrote that story] is not welcome. The firebrand is not too busy making food to… kick his ass.”

• • •

First I heard rumors from two reliable sources that Cachagua General Store was closing. So I called Jones. He told me a lot, including:

• CGS has a great relationship with its landlord and his daughter, and they want to work something out.

• He thinks the current lease is unfair. And there are serious problems with the roof. “Even if everything comes up rosy and there’s a new lease,” he says, “we’re still going to have to move for a while to [allow for] repair[s] to the roof.”

• Rent is way too high and Carmel would be a better fit for the amount they pay, according to Jones.

• Fixing CGS in a manner that makes it manageable for the landlord and ultimate rent rates is complicated. “It’s like the Iran negotiations minus the nuclear weapons,” Jones says.

• • •

I passed that info along to Weekly watchdog/columnist Squid, who posted word 2pm July 25 that CGS could be headed for at least a temporary closure.

Jones took to Facebook. “This is the last thing anyone needs to be worrying about in the middle of this tragedy,” he wrote, presumably referring to the Soberanes Fire. “Our phone is ringing off the hook because ‘the newspaper’ said that this is our last Monday and Sunday. What?

“We are negotiating in a friendly way with our landlord about the future of the building in general. If someone knows something I don’t, please let me know.”

I published what he told me in a follow-up on the blog (www.mcweekly.com/edible) about ongoing negotiations, high rent rates and failing building conditions. I texted him an offer to help with anything – including bussing tables – given the bump in calls, and set off for Cachagua.

I saw Jones in the back door of the kitchen when we arrived. I approached with a bottle of French bubbly, his favorite, peace-offering style.

“Because of that story I got served an [eviction] notice,” he said. “The landlord thinks we’re trying to go around him.”

“How can I help?” I asked.

“By not writing fucking stupid stories!” he yelled, slamming the door.

His longtime partner Amanda Girard Jones saw me and my blank look. I reiterated my question. Later that night, she gave me a Post-it with a name on it.

• • •

We sat out back by the bocce ball court, and visited tastebud heaven several ways: Cate’s pizza with shiitake mushrooms, caramelized onions, asiago and fennel ($14/large); house-smoked Monterey Bay salmon on wild-rice blini ($10); porcini-cream roasted oysters ($12); bone marrow with mushrooms ($12); parsnip-pear-Point Reyes blue cheese salad ($10).

At the top of the menu read the name of the restaurant. Jones likes to change it every week. “Carmella Quits! Roadhouse” it announced. “Blowing this pop stand after 6 years… for college or something… ”

• • •

Turns out one of my dining companions knew the name on the Post-it because she’s also in real estate. So I had John Hankard’s number before sommelier and Palo Colorado evacuee Lee Lightfoot delivered the Chesebro Rosé.

Hankard was the one who served the eviction; he represents Howie Hugo, the landlord, who once lived and worked here as a minister – and owns the neighboring trailer park he cleaned up – and now splits time between Carmel and Camarillo.

I called Hankard to learn more about what I might be missing. He mentioned the lease was in place before Hugo bought the place, it requires the tenant conduct “repairs of floors, walls, ceilings,” and the tenants are behind on rent.

I asked if he had read any stories about the store.

“No,” he said.

• • •

Hugo would love to talk about the lease with Jones. He would love to talk to Jones, period. He says he sent him a number of communications through Hankard and is open to talk about what’s fair and what Jones can afford. But he says there has been zero dialogue.

“I’m eager to get ahold of him,” he says. “It wasn’t hard to reach me, was it?”

He adds a few other things: that Jones is a great asset for Cachagua. That the store is awesome. “He’s such a great personality for that setting,” he says. That Hugo fixed the roof last fall at his own expense. That the rent’s around $2,300 a month, which seems pretty reasonable for a store, catering kitchen and a restaurant with a sweet deal on water, when it’s hard to get a two-bedroom apartment for that in Carmel Valley. That the store is six and a half months late on rent.

“I’m a firm believer that eventually the truth will come out,” Hugo says. “If you tell everyone it’s the big bad landlord but don’t give them the whole story… .”

• • •

All this happens against the backdrop of what will likely become one of the most damaging wildfires Monterey County has seen. In fact, Soberanes Fire evacuations were ordered for Cachagua Valley Aug. 1. (That’s also when Jones posted, “I [am] physically incapable of not cooking on Monday Night.”)

As I’m writing this, Jones is laying out line lunches for firefighters. (And not returning my texts, voicemails or Facebook messages.)

“We still have a fun relaxed crowd here: volunteers, locals, fire guys,” he posts. “Mulberries and padrons from Joanie Evans Linares!”

That’s what makes the endangerment of Cachagua General a little surreal: 1) It has survived so many fiery crises, with Jones et al. leading the charge, that it seems crazy communication gaps and leaky roofs might do it in. 2) Jones, while alienating plenty of people with his incendiary antagonism, has done more for people in crisis than any chef I’ve known, and I know a few. Families lose homes, loved ones, children, and Jones is there, putting together a benefit and working like hell to pull it off.

I told Hugo I’m truly hopeful the store and community will rally, that a simple Go Fund Me! campaign would raise back rent and repair cash in a flash. They just need to know what’s going on.

That’s why I don’t think it was the last dinner at Cachagua General Store. Though by the look in Jones’ eyes, it may have been the last one for me.

~ QUICKBITES ~

• A most stirring free-admission Soberanes Fire fundraiser happens 6-8pm Sunday, Aug. 7, at Monterey Bay Aquarium, with 24 great chefs, music and wine. More on the blog.
• Another inspired benefit marks the private debut of hyper-anticipated Cultura Comida y Bebida in Carmel Friday, Aug. 5. More via the blog.
• Lenora Carey and Big Sur Vineyards lost their small plot of vines and house in Palo Colorado.
• 13+ quick bites also appear online.
• Immanuel Kant: “To be is to do.”