MENDOCINO STILL FEELS like an untouched part of Northern California. A bit farther than most tourists or Bay Area locals go for a quick trip, it offers some quiet. Just 25 miles south of Mendocino is the small town of Elk — population 208. There sits a charming boutique inn called the Harbor House.

With only 11 rooms divided between one house and detached cottages, this isn’t an easy reservation to snag, especially since the inn has its very own 2-Michelin-star restaurant.

After a two-and-a-half-hour drive down winding roads canopied by redwood trees, I arrive at the inn. Perched high above a pristine cove, the Harbor House is surrounded by vegetable gardens, a chicken coop, wild landscaping, and views from every angle. Built in 1916 by the Goodyear Redwood Company as a place to entertain and showcase its redwood empire, the Harbor House transports visitors to a simpler time. There are no televisions or cell service (Wi-Fi is optional throughout the inn), forcing you to sit back, relax, and enjoy simplicities that might otherwise be overlooked.

“While you’re on this property, it’s a farmhouse experience. So I think that's really important — that people understand that this is a time for them to recharge and recuperate,” says Chef Matthew Kammerer, whose cuisine is an integral part of the Harbor House experience.

Before sunset, I venture down a flight of stairs for a quarter mile to the private cove below the inn. The path down passes a rushing waterfall before reaching the beach, where the sand is covered in varied seashells. The abalone are the most prevalent, alongside a dozen abandoned crabs being feasted on by pelicans. As the temperature drops, I work my way back up the stairs to take in the last bit of light from one of the many outdoor chairs lining the property. I’m just in time for dinner.

The culinary offerings at the Harbor House allow guests to experience the Mendocino coast through taste. In 2021 the restaurant received its second Michelin star along with a Michelin green clover for its sustainability efforts. The menu changes daily based on two factors: product availability and weather. All of the produce comes from either the on-site garden or their 320-acre farm located about 25 minutes south by car, and the team also forages in the nearby area. Fish is always sourced from the local harbor and meat only makes an appearance if it comes from a local farmer. The restaurant’s farm, which already supplies beef, plans to introduce goats and chickens later this year.

If you’re a Bay Area resident, you’re no stranger to farm-to-table dining. Chef Kammerer, however, has taken the meaning of local to another level. He describes his mission: “We are truly serving only local food and showing people that you can have a 2-Michelin-star experience with humble ingredients — like the asparagus that we picked this morning, which is going to taste better than the one that spent time on a plane. Hopefully it inspires other chefs to take a different approach. You don't have to serve ingredients that come from across the world. Just do a little bit more research into what's around you.”

The dining room offers one seating for a 10–12 course dinner five days a week, and one seating for a three-course lunch four days a week. Seating only 18, the dining experience is just as intimate as the inn it's nestled in. A long wooden table topped with ceramic vases filled with dried local flowers is the dining room’s centerpiece. “All of the tables in the dining room are from one piece of wood 45 minutes north of here,” Chef Kammerer tells me. “There's a lot of thought that goes in there.” Abalone shells from the cove adorn the dark wooden walls above another fireplace.

With the dining room closed for updates during my stay, I have the pleasure of experiencing a 10-course meal from the comfort of my room. I enjoy it in a robe and slippers, lounging by the fireplace, the sound of the waves crashing outside the window. Each dish is served on a unique vessel that’s been sourced from a local artisan. The inn works with a number of artists to create one-of-a-kind pieces specific to the Harbor House, with the idea that plateware can elevate a dish.

My first course, Pacific Gold oysters with verjus, sits in a clear bowl filled with stones that remind me of the beach walk I took earlier in the day. The abalone is accompanied by a delicate custard served in a ceramic mug with a matching top. Next comes urchin and sushi rice accompanied by hedgehog mushrooms, followed by Knights Valley Wagyu plated with maitakes and jus to close out the entrees. After I finish my last morsel of the four-course dessert paired with a marigold-infused tea, I draw a warm bath full of Epsom salts in my clawfoot tub before retreating to bed.

The dining experience doesn’t end at dinner. A breakfast spread, also served in my room, includes an egg dish so special I prolong finishing it as long as humanly possible. Speaking again of the room, mine has a view of the ocean so stunning it makes me appreciate the lack of cell service — I can take it in without any screens to distract me. Chef Kammerer knows the feeling: “That’s the challenge for people — to get into that headspace. It’s okay to just look out the window. That’s why you're here. It’s not easy for the guests to be able to put themselves in that spot, to really take it, take it in.”

Even though it’s cold and raining, I can’t help but accept the weather and appreciate everything that comes along with it. The Harbor House feels like it moves with the season. Just like the food, the experience is based on everything around you in that very moment. I plan to stop by again this spring or summer, and look forward to enjoying warmer temperatures, a new menu, and all that a new season will bring to this beautiful, peaceful place.