The Cheese Board (2 page)

THE CHEESE BOARD COLLECTIVE
is a neighborhood bakery, cheese shop, and pizzeria in Berkeley, California. Entering our store is initially overwhelming to some first-time customers. As you walk in, a multitude of sensations surrounds you: the aromas of fresh baguettes, hot cheese bread, and garlic oil from trays of focaccia. From the cheese counter comes the barnyard smell of goaty chèvres and the sharp tang of the blue cheeses. The open kitchen allows you to see the whole operation. Everything is in motion: in the front of the store, workers are selling cheese and customers are browsing and choosing breads and cheeses; in the back, workers are rolling and baking bread. The large selection of products can be confusing. There are forty feet of cases with over three hundred varieties of cheese from around the world. Sourdough products are a store specialty, as are hearty wheat breads, hefty scones, muffins, and savory breads. The varying daily bread schedule is complex enough that even the workers have difficulty remembering it. Customers seem to prize the store as a gathering place for social nourishment as much as a place to buy food. There is a loud party atmosphere of busy shoppers waiting for service and catching up with old friends. Instead of taking a number, you grab a playing card from a hook. When a cheese clerk calls out, “Who’s got the jack of hearts?” you know it’s your turn. If you happen to draw the joker … well, you’re in luck because jokers are wild.

A few doors down from the bakery and cheese shop is the Cheese Board
Pizzeria. The pizzas feature a crisp sourdough crust, Mozzarella, and different combinations of fresh seasonal produce and, of course, specialty cheeses for the topping. For the customer, the choice is easy—there is only one type of pizza each day. The toppings are changed to produce the flavor of the day, but the only choice you have is the number of slices or pies. Just as the hot pizzas are taken from the oven, garlic-infused olive oil is brushed over the crust, creating a heady scent. There is always live music—piano and stand-up bass, sometimes a drummer—and occasionally musician friends drop by and bring their horns, saxophones, guitars, and flutes. Jazz, the roar of the oven fans, aromas, and conversation fill the small space as customers wait in line for slices or whole pizzas. “For here or to go? For here or to go?”

“I’ve been shopping here since this was just a tiny store up on Vine Street.” We hear this comment from our customers all the time. What does it mean? For the veteran collective member it is a reminder that we are friends, family, and community. For the newest members, it is an invitation to join the communal history. We are fortunate to have such loyal and involved customers. Through the years they have supported our alternative work style and joined us in our enthusiasm for and pleasure in food.

Getting our history to sit still on a piece of paper isn’t easy. Since our fundamental spirit is the equality of all voices, it is especially difficult to translate our rich tradition of stories into a single narrative. While interviewing past members, sharing stories with customers, and laughing over experiences with each other, a strong sense of our collective past came through in the individual voices we heard. Here are some of those voices.

Elizabeth and Sahag Avedisian first opened the doors of the Cheese Board in 1967. Their dream was to run a small specialty shop together and make use of slow moments to pursue their interests and studies. The location was a tiny, narrow storefront wedged into a converted alleyway on Vine Street, in north Berkeley. While south Berkeley and the university campus were often roiled by the political actions of the era, the Cheese Board’s immediate locale seemed nothing more than a quiet corner of a
small college town. The neighborhood had two gas stations, a drug store, and a small five-and-dime store. The laundromat on the corner was mostly deserted except for a cat sleeping in the window. The Berkeley Consumer Co-operative grocery store, a local meeting place for townspeople, was a block and a half away. Just up Vine Street was Peet’s, a newly established European-style coffee shop that soon was vying with the Co-op as the place to run into friends.

The Avedisians selected the first cheeses for the store by randomly paging through a Domestic Cheese Company catalog. By reading and tasting, talking and sharing, they soon developed a sense for what they liked. By offering samples to customers they learned more about what was delicious and popular. Despite having no real retail experience and little knowledge of cheese, Sahag and Elizabeth soon had a steady business. Berkeley’s large European community and well-traveled locals were thrilled to find a store that carried a variety of authentic, imported cheeses.

Within three months it became necessary to hire a few people to help out in the busy store. The first employees were hired because they were friends or frequent visitors to Vine Street. The new workers and the owners were an eclectic group, which created a vibrant and exciting atmosphere in the small store.

Creativity and personal expression were supported by the staff and owners. Most people worked part-time in order to pursue their outside interests. The combination of the store’s character, the appreciation of European culture, and the changing politics of the times created exactly the right environment to foster experiments in alternative work- and lifestyles.

People began to drop by out of curiosity as well as for cheese.

Arising from a deep belief that a more equitable distribution of wealth was necessary for a good and just society, and inspired by time spent on an Israeli kibbutz, Elizabeth and Sahag offered to sell the shop, at cost, to their employees. In 1971, the two owners and six employees formed a worker-owned collective.

Originally, the change in status was not formalized on paper. Issues such as legal ownership were not as important to the group as the shift into a brand-new, democratically run business. The transformation from a small, privately operated store into a collective with a completely egalitarian pay structure was revolutionary. The generosity of this act has graced the workplace for succeeding generations of workers.

Trying to devise a legal entity that reflected the reality of the Cheese Board’s structure wasn’t a straightforward proposition.

The transition to a worker-owned and -operated cooperative relied upon a shared work ethic, high standards, and the strong emotional connections among the group. Decisions were made, after much debate, either on the shift or at the monthly meetings. The operation and
management of the collective was, and is still, a constantly evolving process. Meetings in the first years were frequently loud, argumentative, and unstructured.

The politics of the traditional workplace had been turned on its head. The new owners shared a belief that the collective process would organically create a truly democratic society. Discussions were an exploration into limitless territory. The utopian vision was, however, firmly grounded in an everyday reality.