IN CONVERSATION WITH CHARLES ROSEN

Your path to Ironbound was anything but traditional. How did you get here?

I was an attorney and film producer before eventually co-founding an advertising agency and brand consultancy globally recognized for its proprietary strategic approach known as Cultural Branding, a methodology for establishing brands as cultural icons. That work led me into federal politics and, ultimately, to Newark, where I became focused on building a business model that could prove a for-profit business could be rooted in community development and environmental stewardship and still make money.

If the story began in Newark, why Hunterdon County?

At the time, New Jersey law required a cidery to operate as a winery. As such, we needed a minimum acreage of land to grow our fruit and produce our cider, something that simply wasn’t possible in Newark. At the same time, we had rediscovered the Harrison apple, a historic New Jersey cider apple once thought to be extinct, and had more than 10,000 trees growing in nurseries, waiting for a home.

In 2014, I found this former winery in Hunterdon County under about two-and-a-half feet of snow. The property had been left fallow for almost 20 years, but it gave us the land we needed to bring those trees home to New Jersey and begin building Ironbound.

What does regenerative agriculture mean to you?

For us, we learned through trial, error, and some pretty spectacular failure. We planted 10,000 apple trees even though our orchard consultant told me the soil wasn’t ready. For three years, those trees barely grew. Eventually, we cut every one of them down and spent two years rebuilding the soil with cover crops, better water management, and an entirely different approach to planting.

What I learned is that you can’t force regeneration. Healing takes time—whether you’re talking about land, people, relationships, or communities. To me, regenerative agriculture is about creating more life in the soil and building a system where every part makes the whole stronger.

How do the animals on the farm become part of that system?

Everything here has a job. When we replanted the orchards, we created wide alleys that allow our chicken coops to move through the rows. The chickens help manage pests, the pigs root the soil so we don’t have to till as much, and the sheep and goats help manage weeds. They’re all part of the farming system. The goal is healthier soil, which creates more nutrient-rich food and ultimately more flavorful food. To me, regenerative agriculture isn’t just an approach to farming; it’s an approach to an entire food system, not to mention a model for community building.

Ironbound wasn’t originally intended to be a destination. How did the Ciderhouse become what it is today?

Originally, this was where we were going to farm, experiment with regenerative agriculture, make cider, and send it out into the world. We never really imagined it as a destination. Then the craft beverage industry changed, COVID happened, and people started coming directly to the farm. They were eating and drinking outside, gathering around the fire pits, and connecting with the land and with each other. The Ciderhouse evolved naturally from there.

Today, it’s really the heart of how people experience what we’re building. The food is approachable, but what’s behind it is much bigger—a pulled pork sandwich, a salad made with greens from a nearby farmer, a cider made with regional fruit. Each one connects back to the larger food system.

You’ve described Ironbound as an ecosystem. What does that look like beyond the farm?

It’s about creating a marketplace where farmers and makers can actually build viable businesses together. The traditional food system has so many layers between the farmer and the consumer that very little of the retail dollar makes its way back to the person growing the food.

We’re trying to shorten that distance. A farmer’s surplus tomatoes can go to someone making tomato sauce instead of the compost pile. Local grain can move from farmer to miller to baker. Whey from a cheesemaker can feed our pigs, and something we’re no longer able to use can become valuable to someone else. The idea is that my success doesn’t have to come at your expense. We can actually become more successful through our connectedness to one another.

After more than a decade of building Ironbound, where do you see it going?

I feel incredibly fortunate that I’ve had the ability to spend all these years developing a model—trying things, failing epically, learning from those mistakes, and rebuilding. Now we’re beginning to see it come together. Farmers are growing the ingredients, makers are transforming them, and we’re creating places where those foods can be eaten, purchased, and discovered. I know the farmers. I know the producers. We’re becoming their shelf so they don’t have to spend their time fighting for shelf-space against industrial farms and global packaged goods companies.

The goal is to build an ecosystem that’s increasingly self-sustaining and resilient, where more of the value stays within the region and with the people actually doing the growing and making.

If you actually had a day off, what would you do?

Don’t ask my wife that question. We’ve chosen to work seven days a week while all of our friends are retiring and buying houses in Jackson Hole. But honestly, if I had a day just to be here and not work, I’d walk in the woods, be connected to the land, and maybe not talk—which, as you can tell, would be unusual for me.

There isn’t another place where I feel more alive or more joyous. The biggest thing this work has taught me is that it’s only through joy that we find the strength to face the things we think we’re unable to face. When I’m here on the farm, I’m not scared. I’m joyous.