About Us
                                                                                                 

The Bee’s Knees opened in July of 2003 because we wanted a place where everyone felt comfortable to stay as long as they wanted or as short as they pleased to play a game, write a poem, or share a song.  We wanted it to feel as if you were coming into a good friend’s home never sure what will be in the fridge, but confident that it will always be delicious.

It became that and more.  The employees became family - the customers became friends - and the music beyond expectations.

We are committed to purchasing as much as we can locally.  We care about the health of our food and the health of our world.   Please see our links to connect to some of the local producers we partner with.

Seven Days, January 2009
http://www.7dvt.com/2009grilling-chef

Over the years, Jeff Egan worked his way up to the role of executive chef, but he doesn’t let the toque go to his head. He prefers “Jeff” to “Chef Egan” (don’t even think about calling him “Chef Jeff”), and, when asked about his accomplishments running the kitchens at the Cliff House and The Bee’s Knees, he talks about his crew instead.

“I’m just one person,” Egan says. “My job is to put together a team [of people] who believe in themselves: My role is just to empower people.”

It’s no surprise that he comes from a background in community organizing. For years, Egan worked as an environmental activist in Canada, spending his time trying to save forests and wildlife from destruction.

But even before he became an activist, Egan was a foodie. When he was growing up in Massachusetts, his family sat down to dinner every night, and Egan could often be found helping his mom make her famous apple cake. “I didn’t like the apple cake, but I liked the batter,” he recalls. “I later realized that [the batter] was full of rum.”

At the newly renovated The Bee’s Knees, Egan is building on owner Sharon Deitz’s well-loved favorites. “The [restaurant’s] classics have been influenced by every person who has cooked in the kitchen, and by the community,” he explains. “It’s a community-built restaurant: They’ve created the space, created the menu with their feedback, created the feel.”

And right now, community members are digging his simple-yet-elegant localvore cuisine, from cinnamon-raisin-bread baked French toast with walnut-honey butter to daily dinner specials.

Since The Bee’s Knees just celebrated its grand reopening, we decided to put Jeff Egan on the grill.

How did your family eat when you were growing up?
I’m grateful for my mum’s desire to see new things and experience the world. I had a pomegranate at age 9, and tried a mango before everybody else.
My dad’s family is meat and potatoes, and one day my mum looked at him and said, “If you want to eat meat and potatoes, you cook.” He came around. A peak experience in my life was eating lobster and steamers [with my family] on Cape Cod after surreptitiously making a hole in the sand and making a fire, which was against the law. That informed my cooking more than anything else: the pleasure of very simple food. I’ll probably never beat those meals. The hospitality and welcoming and the warmth that define food — I really thank my family for that.

Back then, were there any foods you just detested?
Baked apples, but I’ve come around on those. I didn’t like Boston baked brown bread with raisins in it, but anything else, I pretty much jumped into it. I can’t think of anything else I just didn’t like, although I can picture myself trying to hide the peas under the plate.

Name three foods that make life worth living.
Grafton smoked cheddar, black pepper and mayonnaise. I have to throw in a fourth: Elmore Mountain Bread.

What’s the weirdest dish you’ve tried?
It doesn’t seem weird to me now, but I spent two months in Honduras on an exchange program and had mondongo, a Latin American tripe soup.
As a 17-year-old, opening a can of tripe soup and seeing this honeycomb thing pour out in my plate, and having the whole family go “Mmm-mm,” was strange, but “when in Rome.” Even if it’s out of my experience, I’ll always jump in and try something. I haven’t eaten [mondongo] again. With all the nasty bits, it’s super labor intensive to get it right.

When you have time to cook at home, what do you make?
The new entrées at The Bee’s Knees are how I cook at home, but maybe a little more stripped down. The last meal Jess [Graham, his girlfriend] and I made, we just picked up some semolina and made pasta — it’s an activity we can do together that we enjoy. We made it with Italian parsley, red onions and Vermont Butter & Cheese feta; a simple bottle of wine.
Being able to sit down and eat in a chair in my house is just nice.

What foods are always in your pantry?
Sriracha [Thai hot sauce]; at this time of year, beets; I have some apple butter that we made in fall in the freezer; bacon. I started making bacon recently.

Imagine you have an all-expenses-paid trip to any country you want to eat in. Where do you go?
I would go to the Basque region in Spain; there’s a slice of Celtic culture there. It’s this really funky, cider-driven, crazy food culture.

You can cook for anybody, alive or dead. Whom do you choose, and what would you make?
I would probably cook for my grandmother and grandfather, my mum’s father and mother. And probably for my dad’s father and mother, because I never got to meet my dad’s mom, but I got to know both my mom’s parents.
I’d probably cook lobsters and steamers on the beach in Cape Cod. I would love to be able to sit down with my grandmother — who I was very close to — and share that things have worked out the way they should. It’s nice to cook with people and for people that you love.

Any disaster stories?
At the Cliff House, the dinner series was a constant challenge. We’d throw stuff on menus we didn’t know how to make, and we put them on so we would learn how to make them. I’m not a pastry chef, and I’d take on stuff like ice cream that wouldn’t set up in time.
There was the one where we had guinea hen and rabbit at the same time, and when we’d plated them, we realized they were both white. That was a disaster. We try and laugh about it now. The thing is not to let the whole culinary team come crashing down over something that’s happening right then. Once we had to take a Sno-Cat up to do inventory and it broke down. I’m in clogs, Brian [Clark, Cliff House general manager] is in loafers, and we’re walking up the mountain. Being down at street level makes it easier at times.

Which two cookbooks should every home cook own?
Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking — we’ll call that one book. It’s such a work of love and beautifully conveys thought-out stuff in detail. Paul Bertolli’s Cooking by Hand.

If you weren’t a chef, what would your job be?
I’d probably be one of the things I’ve been in the past: either a documentary photographer or an environmental activist.
I came to cheffing because I burned out as an environmental activist. It was high cost: If you screwed up, you lost 1000 acres of primeval forest. If you screw up at a restaurant, it’s a meal. The common thread in all my work is high energy, engaging with the natural world, being in the moment.

Name a local restaurant that you patronize.
Michael’s [on the Hill], Hen of the Wood, Claire’s [Restaurant & Bar] and the Hardwick Diner [Hardwick Village Restaurant].
I grew up eating diner food, in Lowell, Mass. Sunday morning was eating a plate of French toast on green melamine.

Name a few local products you eat at home.
Any cheese from Bonnieview Farm; Misty Knoll [poultry]; Boyden beef I use in the restaurant and eat at home as well; local dairy; [meat from] Winding Brook Farm. I always have Cold Hollow cider — it’s sort of a liquid meal; Vermont Coffee [Company’s] dark roast; and Pete’s Greens, because Jess and I have the share.

What is something every restaurant patron should know but doesn’t?
My attitude toward patrons is that they’re why I’m here. I’m just grateful that they come in, and they may not know that. The rest of the team and I are here to be of service.
I don’t exist as a chef if there aren’t guests, and I’m happy they come to this restaurant. I don’t do anything I don’t love.

Can you tell me a fact about you that might surprise people?
I used to be a hippie. People will be, like, “What?” I used to go to Rainbow gatherings and all that kind of stuff.

What are your hobbies?
Mountain biking, skiing and hanging out with my girlfriend, who has been very patient. I’m feeling really blessed to live in a place where I can put on backcountry skis and ski Mount Elmore. And barbecuing.

Do you have a favorite food that you’d consider a guilty pleasure?
Personally, I don’t do guilt — I grew up in an Irish Catholic family, and I know what guilt can do — but the thing everybody shakes their head at is microwave burgers from Cumberland Farms.

Stowe Reporter, January 2009
Community Backs The Bee’s Knees, by Jesse Roman

On New Year’s Eve, Main Street in Morrisville was lined for a hundred feet on both sides, and cars jammed the municipal lot next to Union Bank.  Many of those drivers and passengers, and many more who had travelled by foot, flocked to The Bee’s Knees – a little coffee, music and natural foods cafe  in the heart of town.  They were there not just to welcome in the New Year, but also to welcome back a friend and to celebrate what they had all accomplished together.  Just a year earlier, Bee’s Knees owner Sharon Deitz had considered selling her little restaurant, which desperately needed a new kitchen and more seating.  The problem was, the money wasn’t there.

But, the community came to the rescue.  People who cared about Bee’s Knees and what it means to their town came in droves to offer support, either financially or with their time and hard work.  Deitz realized the Bee’s Knees must continue.  “The response she got- that this is a really important part of life in Morrisville- just seemed to light her fire,” said Nina Church, a Morrisville resident who contributed financially and showed up to work a screw gun in the final days of the expansion project.  “As the economy goes south and global warming continues and all these other things happen, we need a place like Bee’s Knees.  We need a place to gather that’s local, a place that brings people together and refocuses us on what we have on hand.”

“The Community Support has given me the confidence to invest in the building,” Deitz said last February, when the expansion project was in its infancy.  “It shows how people feel this place is theirs and how committed they are to keeping it here.”  Through the sale of community supported restaurant certificates, private community loans, donations and barter, Deitz estimated she raised $100,000 for the project– most of what the café needed to expand, Deitz said.  In addition, 30 or more people showed up at one time or another, asking to be put to work for free.  “Over 75 people have given to the success of this project in one way or another, not counting strictly paid workers” who were hired to do the demolition, electrical and plumbing work, she said.

Was she surprised by the outpouring of support – particularly in the days leading up to the reopening, where it was not uncommon to find people of all ages, people you would never expect, wielding a nail gun or a paint roller until late in the night?  “Not at this point,” Deitz said, “not with how supportive everyone has been all year.  It just felt natural; it was amazing.  Maybe a better word for it would be overwhelmed.  We had a long year and we were exhausted with all this work and it was a very nice feeling to see all these people working together for this.  People are really grateful they have a special place in their community and they understand what it takes to make this run.  They want to make sure it continues.”

When Deitz opened the café in 2003, she hoped it would blossom into a social gathering space, where community members could come, stay as long as they wanted, and enjoy good food, live music and excellent company.  “It brought so much to the community that people didn’t even realize we needed or wanted,” said Rachel Duffy, a Morrisville resident whose entire family– husband John and daughters Megan, 18 and Caitlin, 15- helped to finish the renovations.  “People of all different ages are attracted to it.  It’s a place where you can go in with friends or alone and meet someone interesting to hang out with.” 

“It’s a place my kids love that I can go too,: Church said.  “Sharon has created something in our community that it turns out there was a big need for.”

The popularity, however, meant a lack of seating and a limited ability to serve all the guests who came through the door.

Because of the old Bee’s Knees kitchen was small, Deitz had to cook some of the food in a commercially licensed kitchen in an upstairs apartment.  She then had to carry it downstairs, stepping outside briefly because there was no indoor stairway between the restaurant and the upstairs apartment.

“It’s an inefficient way to run a business,” Deitz said in February.  “The size limits how sustainable it can be.  And the setup makes me work harder than I need to.”  After she toyed with the idea of selling The Bee’s Knees, several community members persuaded her to go another route.  Deitz began selling $1000 “community supported restaurant certificates” to help finance the project.  In return, customers receive $1080 in vouchers for food.  Customers also lined up to give $5000 unsecured loans.  In return, investors will receive a 4% return on their investment and a 10% discount on their tabs.  “And a bunch of people just gave me money,” Deitz said. 

In December, 2007, Bee’s Knees began its expansion project toward the back of the building, into what was an unused wooden shed.  The two spaces were separated by a brick wall, so the café stayed open throughout the behind-the-scenes construction process, except for the three weeks after the wall came down, joining the new and the old.  During the closing, volunteers came every day to lend a hand and make sure “their café” opened in time for the celebration.  One look at the new Bee’s Knees space reveals the care and cooperation that went into it.  The former shed is now a warm, welcoming space with art hanging from the walls, rustic wooden booths, and shelving carefully made from old timbers found in the pre-depression brick building.  The renovation more than doubled the restaurant’s space, to more than 1000 square feet.   With the addition of outdoor seating in the summer, its seating capacity will have tripled.  And, Deitz and her cooks no longer have to trek outside in the frigid weather to cook up a batch of her renowned spinach dip.

On New Year’s Eve, the Bee’s Knees had a “Grand Re-Opening”.  Local musicians The Eames Brothers played until 2am; food and beer and wine were plentiful.  People who rarely come to the café were drawn that night by the buzz and excitement of the updated community-gathering place.  “I had some people tell me it was the best party they had been to, ever,” Deitz said.  “Another person told me it was in their top three (parties) and one of the others was Bonnaroo.  If we’re up there with Bonnaroo, I’ll take that….” 

“The party was great, I think, because everyone there had a feeling of ownership and success.  People had contributed financially, with their work, and in other ways, and there was just a huge feeling of pride.”

“Pride that the community had come together to save the place that has so often brought them together.

 http://www.stowetoday.com/articles/2009/01/09/stowe_reporter/news/local_news/doc496520c5d1200489135066.txt

Barre Montpelier Times Argus, October 2008
A Little Quirky, A Lot Cozy.
The tiniest restaurant kitchen in Vermont is growing up, supported by the labor, cash and love of a town full of friends and fans.

When Sharon Deitz opened The Bee's Knees in Morrisville, she envisioned a place that would be like "going to a friend's house — you never know exactly what's in the fridge, but you know it will be good." Five years later, the house is getting bigger, as completion nears on a new kitchen and dining room.

Since its inception, the creative and flavorful fare that draws locals, skiers and leaf peepers has been chopped, sautéed and baked in a tiny kitchen over the intimate dining area, shuttled downstairs in increasing volume as word of the restaurant has traveled.

A couple of years ago, according to Deitz, "it became apparent that this was a fine way to start a business, but not to continue. It was inefficient in every way."

Exhausted by the energy she'd put into incubating the quirky, cozy café, she offered it for sale.

"I showed people the business," she recalls, "ran some numbers with them, and in that process I fell back in love with the business."

There's a lot to love about The Bee's Knees. From day one, Deitz has been committed to showcasing local musicians and artists and serving local foods. Indeed, the list of local producers reads like the area phone book.

Breakfast burritos and fresh muffins help many start the day, and the lunch menu features a bounty of hearty sandwiches. The ever-popular Cowboy BLT is stacked with Winding Brook Farm bacon and Cabot pepperjack cheese; an Elmore Mountain Bread baguette, stuffed with marinated portabellas and Pete's organic greens, comprises the "groovy portabella love fest."

Turkey sandwiches feature Green Mountain Smokehouse meat, paired with bacon or Swiss cheese and complemented with cinnamon currant mayo or roasted red peppers. A seitan cheesesteak, loaded with sautéed peppers and onions, is not the only choice to satisfy the vegetarian palate.

Supper provides a wide range of options including the blissfully comforting Vermont cheddar mac-n-cheese and a pot pie, filled with local leg of lamb and root vegetables, that would be instantly recognizable to a farmer of any era.

Shrimp creole, eggplant parmesan, and spinach-roasted garlic-fennel quiche graced a recent evening menu, each flavored with local vegetables, eggs, and meats. Homemade applesauce, from Champlain Orchards fruit, is served alongside most meals.

"People come here to eat Vermont food," Deitz emphasizes. "Morrisville is where normal people live. This is where locals come to listen to local music and eat local food and connect with their community."

It was this connection, and the potential of losing it, that rallied customers and friends to support Deitz in her expansion efforts.

"People were concerned about what would happen to this place they love," she remembers. One by one, people started volunteering to paint, to do brickwork, to lend money … and the community living room became a true community project.

To support the expansion, Deitz turned to a community supported business model, similar to that used by the Bobcat Café in Bristol and Claire's in Hardwick. Some community members made loans; others purchased community supported restaurant certificates, to be paid back in food over three years. Craftspeople donated labor and professional services. Deitz welcomed every contribution.

"By changing it to people saying 'we're in this with you and we're risking with you,' it changed the feel for me," Deitz explains. "When you really feel part of a community, it gives you more strength."

Sylvia Fagin writes about local foods and food producers. Contact her at sylviafagin@yahoo.com.

http://timesargus.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20081021/FEATURES17/810210375/1034/FEATURES17

Gourmet Magazine, October 2008
THE ABCs of the new CSAs by Peter Andrey Smith

Looking for a sound investment in these troubled times? Try community-supported agriculture: These days the concept extends way beyond weekly vegetable deliveries.

Since 1986, when two small farms in Western Massachusetts began selling shares in what came to be known as community-supported agriculture, farms across the U.S. have encouraged consumers to invest at the beginning of the season for a guaranteed weekly return in vegetable dividends. According to LocalHarvest, CSAs now connect consumers directly with more than 2,000 local farmers.

But community-supported food doesn’t just mean lettuce, arugula, and potatoes anymore. There are cooks selling shares in restaurants before the first pot of water ever boils. Dairy farmers sell ownership in cows to get around prohibitions on the sale of raw milk. Others have created so-called “cowpools” to divvy up an entire animal and dole out cuts of meat. And fishermen have begun selling shares in seafood stock.

With a faltering economy, some say local foods are an investment opportunity with a tangible return—a share in both the risks and the bounty of farming, fishing, or running a restaurant.

A restaurant counting on its regulars

Sharon Deitz opened The Bee’s Knees, a small restaurant in Morrisville, Vermont, five years ago; soon she was carrying 60 and 70 dinners down the stairs from her apartment’s tiny kitchen to the restaurant below. When she started to burn out and didn’t have the capital to renovate, she began showing the restaurant to prospective buyers. But a group of regulars stepped in and told her, “Hey, we’ll help you out.”

Now she’s renovating the place using the nearly $70,000 she’s raised by selling community-supported restaurant certificates: Customers make investments in her business and get discounts in return. A $1,000 investment buys 12 certificates, each redeemable for $90 worth of food and beverages over the course of three months; $500 gets you $45 in meals per quarter. Deitz also sold $400 punch cards for draft beers and coffees; and investors who made unsecured $5,000 loans get repaid in five years, with a 4 percent return and a 10 percent discount on food (a financing plan she modeled after the Bobcat Café in Bristol, VT).

Ten miles from The Bee’s Knees, another restaurant, Claire’s in Hardwick, has partially financed its startup operation by selling community shares.

“It’s kind of this litmus test,” Deitz says. “If people said, ‘We’ll support you,’ but nobody was willing to risk their money here, I doubt if this place would be sustainable. But because so many people have trusted me with their money, even with current economy, I think that we’re going to be okay.”

Raw milk without the red tape: Cow-sharing in Colorado

The Weston A. Price Foundation estimates that about 5 percent of Americans drink raw milk. Despite consumer demand, many states have adopted versions of the federal Food and Drug Administration’s Grade “A” Pasteurized Milk Ordinance (PMO), which essentially bans sending raw milk for human consumption anywhere but the dairy processing plant for pasteurization.

Still, farmers and activists have used cow-share or cow-leasing agreements to skirt state-level prohibitions against raw milk distribution. “It’s a real consumer right to choose,” says David Lynch, of Buena Vista, Colorado’s Cottonwood Creek Dairy, which has five milking Jersey cows in a 70-share program that delivers a gallon of raw milk a week to subscribers.

In 2005, after a multiyear fight to legitimize a raw milk share program, Lynch watched the state legislature pass a law allowing residents to buy milk if they have a stake (“undivided interest”) in a dairy herd. Shareholders at his farm, for example, buy a share in the milking herd for a $50 reimbursable fee, and pay $35 a month for a gallon of fresh milk a week. “It’s a privatized system,” he says. “You can only get raw milk from the farmer.”

While the FDA says there’s a risk of bacterial infections associated with drinking raw milk, 32 dairy farmers in Colorado offer raw milk shares, regulated by an association of producers who set their own standards. “In my mind, this is exactly what we were hoping to see,” Lynch says. “When something is true and accurate and right, it will win out.”

Cowpooling, or how to share steaks and burgers

One of the few, if not the only, farmer-run meat-only CSAs in the country is helmed by Aidan Davin and Kate Stillman, who raise livestock—pigs, chickens, cows, and sheep—at Stillman’s at The Turkey Farm in Hartwick, Massachusetts. They bring frozen meats to farmers markets and also sell meat shares to about 150 members at drop-off sites outside of Boston.

“We just raise enough animals that make sure that everybody gets the same thing—usually half ground and stew and half chops and steaks of pork and beef and whole chickens,” Davin says. “They just get what we give them.” For customers with religious reasons for eschewing pork, they offer a couple of shares without it.

Other farmers raising specialty meats, like pasture-fed beef, say it’s difficult to deliver equitable shares of fresh meat at regular intervals. In colder climates, where animals tend to be slaughtered in the fall (often at slaughterhouses hundreds of miles away), the shares may be delivered only once a year—and if one shareholder receives a filet mignon while another gets tongue, there’s a problem. But divvying up all the cuts of beef into equal portions “would be like trying to divide up a leek,” says Tamar Adler, who cooks at Chez Panisse Café and runs the Bay Area Meat CSA.

http://www.gourmet.com/foodpolitics/2008/10/community-supported-agriculture

National Public Radio, February 2008
NPR aired a modified version of what was aired on VPR earlier this month on February 26- click below to listen!  We’ve heard from people in Alaska, California, Florida, New York and Boston who heard the piece! 

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=19357345&sc=emaf

Burlington Free Press, February 2008
Burlington Free Press covered our plans for expansion.  See link below.

http://www.burlingtonfreepress.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=2008802210334

Channel 5 News & New England Cable News, February 2008

We were on the news February 19, 2008.  See the link below!

http://www.necn.com/Boston/Business/The-Bees-Knees-Communitysupported-restaurant/1203476198.html

Stowe Reporter, February 2008
Lisa McCormack wrote a lovely story in The Stowe Reporter last week with lots of pictures by Glenn!   We were on the cover of Stowe Scene!  See link below:

http://www.stowetoday.com/news_tool_v2.cfm?pnpID=1034&NewsID=874818&CategoryID=19631&show=localnews&om=1

Vermont Public Radio, February 2008
Claire’s Restaurant in Hardwick and The Bee’s Knees were featured with our community supported restaurant (CSR) certificates (a tool for financing our expansion).  The Bee’s Knees was featured as an audio postcard on Vermont Edition the same day.  National Public Radio also picked up the CSR story.  See links below.  (You can listen to Terry Diers on the audio postcard!  Come on out for the Second Sunday Gospel Jam, 11-2 on the 2^nd Sunday of the month.)

News piece: http://www.vpr.net/news_detail/79214/

Audio postcard:  http://www.vpr.net/news_detail/79220/

News and Citizen, January 2008

http://www.newsandcitizen.com/2008/2008/13008/  

Boston Magazine’s New England Travel & Life
Best of New England, 2007  Best Restaurant for Kids
Some places just get how to make kids happy.  Take The Bee’s Knees, a café-cum-playroom adored by wee ones (and their hipster parents).  If the munchkins aren’t preoccupied with the wall of toys, odds are they are digging into healthy plates such as mac and cheese (with locally made cheddar) and chocolate milk, grooving to the regular live folk rock music performances or instigating an impromptu toddler social hour.  The upshot?  Junior is delighted, and mom and dad can score a minute to enjoy their organic greens or wasabi-mayo tuna with pickled ginger.

Yankee Magazine’s Travel Guide to New England, 2007
Editor’s Pick
This homey little eatery provides patrons with a creative menu featuring locally grown and raised foods – a BLT made with bacon from Winding Brook Farm and organic greens, served on a baguette from Elmore Mountain Bakery, for example, or meatloaf with Cabot cheddar.  Plus, there’s music most nights.

Vermont Life Magazine, Spring 2007
16 Great Places to Hear Music in Vermont

Why it’s good:  Simple music in an eatery that feels like grandma’s kitchen
What sounds best:  Folk, acoustic pop
When to go:  The first Wednesday of every month for honky-tonk night.

Seven Days, July 2007
Night Moves:  Quirky clubs not to miss- beyond Burlington
If the hustle and bustle of Burlington’s nightlife has you yearning for a more rural Green Mountain experience, few places are better than Morrisville.  Several miles north of uber touristy Stowe on Route 100, the town is a genuine slice of Rockwellian down-hominess, and should be high on the list of anyone seeking the “real Vermont.”  Approaching its fourth anniversary, The Bee’s Knees has established itself as the artistic cornerstone of this sleepy little village.  Like TV’s “Cheers” it’s the kind of place where everybody knows your name.  Proprietor Sharon Deitz has poured her heart and soul in the coffee shop/bar/restaurant, and the town has responded in kind.  She estimates that she knows 80 percent of her clientele on a first-name basis.  The tiny venue is packed almost nightly with patrons enjoying items from an impressive localvore menu, microbrewed ales and wide-ranging musical fare.  While Central-Vermont-based artists features prominently on the monthly calendar, Deitz does an admirable job or mixing things up, bringing performers from across the musical spectrum.  On any given night you might hear folk, bluegrass, rock or jazz.  The place is very small, so get their early- shows usually start at 7:30pm.  And plan to make new friends, as you’ll quite literally be rubbing elbows with your neighbors.

Seven Days’ Annual Guide:  7 NIGHTS pick for Stowe/Smuggs Area, 2006
Meet your “knees”
You can get good food all day at the Bee’s Knees in Morrisville, but the term “restaurant” may be too restrictive for this all-purpose eatery that is also a coffeehouse, a playpen, a gallery, a nightclub- even a massage parlor.  Owner Sharon Deitz wants customers to think of the place as “the town’s living room, a place where everyone feels comfortable…” You may find yourself surrounded by boisterous toddlers gleefully reducing homemade muffins to their molecular level.  The live music starts up around 7:30 almost every night.  Cramped, comfy, and slightly chaotic, the place has a crunchy charm.  Various styles of art cover the walls and hang in the windows.  A collection of books, toys, and board games is jammed into a corner bookshelf.  The hearty and generous food, mostly organic with many vegan-friendly dishes, adds nourishment to the scene.  Relying heavily on local producers such as Pete’s Greens, Winding Brook Farm, and Sandiwood Farm, the menu offers everything from breakfast burritos to creamy mac-n-cheese and a chicken with goat cheese pot pie.  The roasted root vegetable salad is a standout.  Homemade applesauce and organic mesclun greens, accompany most orders, and there is a small but choice selection of win and local beer.

The Burlington Free Press, 2005
Sittin’ a spell at Bee’s Knees.  Diners cozy up in restaurant’s coffee-shop vibe
Two men sit and chat in Adirondack chairs in front of the austere, pre-depression brick building.  Inside, slow fans cool the space where a half-dozen small tables and a few bar stools host diners sampling locally grown food. 

A woman at one of the tables greets an incoming customer with a “How ya doin’ Jim?” Near the front door, a husband-and-wife team strums guitars and sings old rural standards with names such as “the darkest hour just before dawn.” 

This is not “The Andy Griffith Show” This was Friday night in Morrisville, at a place called “The Bee’s Knees” where this sort of pastoral/bohemian scene has played out for a couple of years now. 

Almost exactly two years, as a matter of fact:  Sharon Deitz left her job as an early childhood special educator and opened her casual eatery in the former Munson Store building on July 24, 2003.  “We had intended for it to be quick and simple food,” Deitz said, but customers demanded more than just salads and sandwiches, and wanted meals served three times a day.  I used to say the first year ‘we’re not a restaurant’ but I can’t say that anymore.  It just got out of control.” 

The Bee’s Knees is open six days a week for breakfast, lunch and dinner and hosts free live music most nights.  Deitz based the idea for The Bee’s Knees on the time she spent in her 20s in England, where the neighborhood pub welcomes people of all ages who, if they don’t know each other, will soon.

The cozy space on Lower Main Street had been a beauty parlor and a garage when Deitz and business partner Jen Edwards bought the building three years ago.  Edwards died suddenly before the eatery opened, leaving Deitz as the woman in charge of the business that’s open as much as 15 ½ hours a day. 

The Bee’s Knees emphasizes local food and beverages.  Organic vegetables are grown at Pete’s Greens in Craftsbury and Sandiwood Farm in Wolcott.  The naturally raised chicken comes from Misty Knoll Farm in New Haven; other meats are raised naturally on Winding Brook Farm in Morrisville. 

Detailed menus are updated daily.