The first thing I noticed about the packaging was not the reasonably sized glass jar, but the Pepto-Bismol-smeared-on-terracotta colour of the jar. The branding is not my cup of tea, but design is an art and maybe someone out there likes it. The brand conjures associations with face moisturizer.

Something I am wondering about is why they chose to name the product “BC Organic Creek Congo.” I would have preferred to see it named “Organic Roberts Creek Congo” because I think it pays more homage to the regional specificity of this flower and its history. From what I understand, what I had been introduced to as Red Congolese, was a clone-only cultivar from La Mano Negra.

Now, it appears to have made its way into the Canadian legal system under a name that detracts from the company’s focus on locality. I mean, come on, Roberts Creek in the Sunshine Coast region is an awesome part of the world that is totally distinct from the Cariboo or the Rockies, or other B.C. regions. By removing “Roberts” from “Creek”, the consumer is presented with a cannabis flower lifted and distanced from its regional roots. I know this opinion sounds a little precious, but keep in mind that in Simply Bare Organic’s own promotional words, “Simply Bare works hand-in-hand with nature every step of the process, starting with living soil. It’s made with 100 per cent organic inputs including Douglas Fir bark, kelp, and fish meal found right here on the B.C. Coast.” If that isn’t marketing aimed at evoking a sense of terroir-driven weed, then I don’t know what is. I say run with it and call it Roberts Creek Congo.

But then again…. Settler society in B.C. is going through an interesting period in history. Settler place names, which are the result of a political history in which newcomer geographies are imposed on Indigenous territory, were taken for granted; growing up I very rarely even connected location names with the settlers they’re named after. However, the last couple hundred years of persistent resistance by Indigenous peoples in B.C. has created a vulnerability in the settler consciousness where place names are becoming historicised and contextualized as political interventions. So maybe having a cultivar named after William Roberts, the first settler in the region surrounding Roberts Creek, isn’t the best way of representing locality.

How cannabis farmers, gardeners, cultivators, or whomever, choose to portray a concept of terroir—or some other place-based cultivation concept—is going to evolve, but I think it is a worthwhile conversation to have about the political and social nature of place. Can Roberts Creek Congo be grown by someone without any connection to the growers of the Sunshine Coast that perfected the regional expression of this cultivar? Is there a necessary cultural knowledge of growing techniques and grower networks that is inextricably linked to place? Or, alternatively, can anyone with the right cut of this plant produce the same end product anywhere in the world? Can the concept of terroir, with so much attention to the outdoor climate and environment, be applied to something grown in a controlled environment like a greenhouse? Can developments in the wine world, and debates about “low-intervention” farming and terroir inform cannabis growers about place-focused products? Can one reproduce terroir in a lab?

Ok, so back to this specific iteration of Roberts Creek Congo that I just purchased. Yeah, the branding is ugly in my opinion, but it is in a nicely sized glass jar. From a strictly quality-driven perspective this is a major improvement over the plastic jars prevalent in the legal system. I’m not informed enough to understand the complexities of the life cycle of glass, and recycling, or answer whether glass is actually less bad for the environment, but I know that consumers like myself have the perception that glass is better. It certainly preserved the flower inside nicely.

When I cracked open the seal I was greeted with a familiar aroma that brought me back to my first experience with this cultivar. The nose was there! The bouquet is a heady mix of spice (clove), bark mulch, and earthy garden-fresh carrots. The smell is bang-on what I would expect from this cultivar.

I weighed the flower and it came in at 3.55g. That’s a type of material variance I can respect.