ediblesf.com | 23 VARIETALS Christopher Renfro doesn't fit any conventional image of a food and wine revolutionary. No family vineyard in Napa. No European apprenticeship. No traditional path into an industry that guards its gates. Yet standing beside him between rows of tenacious hybrid grapevines, I watch as his gaze sweeps across this unexpected landscape–abundant rows of organic produce, chain-link fences, and the silhouettes of 151 low-income housing units. I'm witnessing the Bay Area's most radical wine innovator at work. "Honestly, this view never gets old," he smiles, "It's the perfect way to start my day." This is the 280 Project—San Francisco's only vine-yard and arguably the most audacious challenge to wine's established order in decades. Where traditional vintners seek pristine countryside isolation, Renfro has deliberately chosen the opposite: a steep hillside at Alemany Farm, flanked by a freeway. It's a setting that would horrify traditionalists who equate winemaking with generational estates. For Renfro, that's precisely the point. The statistics tell the story: representation of people of color in wine production, distribution, and education remains disproportionately low. With the United States being home to 11,600 operating wineries to date, less than 1% of them are Black owned, according to the Association of African American Vintners (AAAV). While the industry has recently acknowledged these disparities, meaningful structural change has been slow, with many diversity initiatives criticized as superficial. Renfro's journey began with the vineyard. Drawn to the steep hillside of Alemany Farm with its unlikely urban setting, he established the 280 Project as a direct challenge to the wine industry's established norms. During his time there, he quickly noticed something that would expand his mission: the stark contrast between the agricultural abundance and the neighboring community's limited access to fresh food. We pause at the outdoor kitchen. Beyond it, collard greens unfurl in filtered sunlight beside sculptural kale and fragrant herbs—all ripe, untouched. Through a rusted chain-link fence, concrete courtyards of Alemany Apartments lie just steps away. The divide is visually striking: abundance and scarcity separated by a barrier, both physical and symbolic. "I noticed all this food growing here, but the neighbors weren't eating it," Renfro explains, recounting his early observations at Alemany Farm. This disconnect catalyzed his next project. Along with his friend Haley Garabato (previously Nisei's sous chef), he established the Feed The People Collective— an outdoor cooking school and pop-up restaurant that served the residents of Alemany Apartments and local neighbors completely free for three years. Sourcing ingredients directly from the adjacent organic farm, they created a hyperlocal food system that eliminated both physical and economic barriers to fresh, healthy meals. "I would go door-to-door and ask how many plates they wanted," he says, pausing at the now-quiet outdoor kitchen where thousands of meals were once prepared. "From that, I met every single person in this neighborhood." Christopher Renfro's defiant harvest This is the 280 Project— San Francisco's only vineyard and arguably the most audacious challenge to wine's established order in decades.
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