At Simple Roots, regenerative agriculture sprouts seed of hope
by Mona de Crinis
Korey and Alissa Harris on property with son, Kelan, and daughter, Kennedy
Photo by Ryan Siphers
As dusk falls upcountry, deepening the folds where Haleakala reaches for the sea, paniolo (cowboys) and ranch hands from Olinda to Ulupalakua wrap up the day’s chores without a hitch. For some, the work is almost innate, written into their DNA or burned into neural pathways through time, tradition and rote.
On a scratch of pastureland straddling Makawao, a young farmer corrals his milk cow’s calf for the night. Grabbing hold of the collar, he slowly leads Peanut Butter toward the paddock. But as baby bulls do, Peanut Butter takes off on a full sprint with the farmer in tow, ducking electrical lines and dodging nomadic chicken shelters in a clip worthy of the Keystone Cops.
Don’t blame the farmer though — or the bull; that chicken-coop obstacle course set in a tangle of wires wasn’t there 24 hours earlier. At Simple Roots regenerative farm, nothing stays the same. And that’s just how partners Erin McFarland and Korey and Alissa Harris like it. In fact, moving everything around daily was their idea.
It’s a holistic approach to encouraging soil health known as rotational grazing, a key principle of regenerative agriculture. Using temporary fencing, or electric wire, and wheeled chicken shelters to reposition farm animals gives the land pause from pecking hens and grazing bovines and time to absorb the organic matter left behind.
It’s also how three impassioned providers are changing Maui’s farm-to-table landscape. Prioritizing fields over yields, Simple Roots works with nature to offer the only pasture-raised chicken currently available on island and other just-harvested delights — all from the seed of a simple home garden.
While pregnant with their second child, Korey and Alissa Harris wanted to plant a few backyard veggies during maternity leave. Korey, an officer with the Maui Police Department, and Alissa, a board-certified behavior analyst working in child development, consulted Upcountry gardening guru Erin McFarland at a friend’s recommendation. She told them to add chickens, the “gateway to farming.”
Alissa Harris repositions chicken coop with help from Erin McFarland.
Photo by Ryan Siphers
They talked for a long time. Erin used words like “sustainable,” “permaculture” and “self-reliance,” which unearthed in Korey an untapped desire for Kennedy and her older brother, Kelan, to grow up understanding food origin and the value in caring for animals and the land.
“I want to make a go of this,” he told his wife one spring night over dinner in 2022, and a partnership was born. A few short months later, they entered a work-trade arrangement for six acres Upcountry, which had been run with horses and matted in thigh-high sour grass.
Toiling weekdays long after the whistle blew on their day jobs and weekends sun-up to sundown, they cleared the land and gave it space to breathe. In less than a year, the trio had transformed the acreage into bucolic pastureland with quality grass free of pesticides or chemical fertilizers.
By July 2022, they had completed their first harvest, filled their first orders and grabbed the attention of elite Maui chefs. Pacifico on the Beach, Papaaina and other popular restaurants began sourcing Simple Roots for local, sustainably farmed chicken. With business on an uptick, Korey took the plunge and resigned from the police department to focus fully on the farm.
Then Lahaina burned, and with it, most of Simple Roots’ West Maui restaurant business. Saddled with harvests and few buyers, they donated the considerable surplus of those first months following to feed fire victims and partnered with Common Ground Collective, which sourced supplies for Chef Hui and westside food distribution hubs. Fortunately, Upcountry dining hotspot Marlow and about 500 loyal kama‘aina customers are keeping them afloat while the island heals.
With a Kiss-the-Ground sensibility root-ed in compassionate land stewardship, Simple Roots appeals to enlightened foodies as well as the auntie on the prowl for local product. And for those suffering allergies, autoimmune diseases and dietary restrictions that prohibit eating commercially harvested chicken or meat refrigerated too long, it is a prayer answered.