Where Local Still Means Something
There’s something quietly revolutionary about a place like The Farmstand Market & Cafe in Union, Kentucky. Not in the loud, neon-lit way you might associate with “farm-to-table” trends or upscale foodie destinations. No, The Farmstand doesn’t shout. It simply shows up—fresh, local, intentional—and reminds you what dining out is supposed to feel like.
Our visit came from a simple craving: something nearby that wasn’t a chain, something with a pulse and a point of view. In a landscape increasingly dominated by franchises and reheated sameness, that search can feel like looking for a wildflower in a parking lot. But then we found The Farmstand, tucked off Old Union Road like a secret passed between locals.
Housed in a century-old renovated general store, The Farmstand isn’t flashy. It’s quaint, cozy, and warm in a way that feels personal. You walk in and immediately feel like you’ve stumbled into someone’s family kitchen—if that family happened to be led by a chef who used to run an organic farm, Tricia Houston.
Nearly every dish is rooted in Kentucky and Ohio farms—within a 250-mile radius, to be precise. Local pork from Hundred Happy Acres in Sparta. Herbs and vegetables grown on Houston’s own Napoleon Ridge Farm. Even the cocktail syrups are infused with ingredients like honeysuckle and basil straight from the ground. If “local” is a buzzword in the restaurant world, The Farmstand makes it feel like a promise kept.
We started with the Goetta Hanky Pankys, and let me just say—why this isn’t already a Cincinnati/NKY staple is beyond me. The nostalgic, melty joy of traditional hanky pankys meets the savory crunch of goetta in a bite-sized stroke of genius. Then came the burgers: one sirloin special, one grass-fed, both piled high with toppings. There’s a fine line between overdoing a burger and underdelivering. These walked it perfectly—classic, rich, and balanced. Not “fancy,” not “elevated,” just right.
The service was equally on point—genuinely kind and helpful, without a trace of pretense. It felt like everyone there wanted you to feel comfortable, not just served. That kind of hospitality is harder to find than it should be.
And while we didn’t explore the market section in full, it’s clear this place is more than just a café. The Farmstand sells local jams, jellies, soaps, and grab-and-go meals. It hosts community events, farm-to-table dinners, and even serves as a pickup point for the Ohio Valley Food Connection, helping bridge the gap between local farms and local tables.
Of course, The Farmstand hasn’t been without its challenges. In 2019, a car crashed into the front of the building after hours, forcing a temporary closure. In 2020, the pandemic nearly shut it down again—until fellow chefs and community members rallied to hold fundraisers in support. That alone speaks volumes. You don’t see that kind of rallying for a fast-food outpost. You see it when a place means something to a town. When it feels like a reflection of its people.
Union needs places like The Farmstand. Northern Kentucky needs places like The Farmstand. At a time when it feels like every exit ramp offers up the same dozen drive-thru options, here is a business rooted in dirt and driven by passion—literally growing its own ingredients, forging relationships with nearby farms, and serving real food that feels good because it is good.
Will I be back? Absolutely. I’ve got my eye on the meatloaf next time, and whatever new special pops up on the chalkboard. Because that’s the magic here—every visit is its own chapter, tied together by the same central idea: food made with care, from people who care, for a community that’s learning to care again.
And that, in 2025, is about as radical as it gets.