Where Food Meets Purpose
Story by Dathan Kazsuk | Photos courtesy of Stacey Sprenz
This story would sound better if it began, “On a warm spring afternoon in Clayton…” But that wouldn’t exactly be true.
It was a Sunday afternoon in Clayton. But after delivering an almost perfect day just 24 hours earlier, Mother Nature decided to flip the script—hiding the sun behind a blanket of gray, sending sweeping chills across the open lawn, and turning what should’ve been a picture-perfect spring food festival into something a little more…brisk.
No one seemed to mind.
Because at Landon Estate, where Roots for Reece once again gathered chefs, friends, beverage partners, and supporters for its annual Chef’s Picnic, the weather quickly became the least important part of the day.
The food mattered, of course. So did the beer, the music, the conversations, and the familiar buzz of people moving from chef station to chef station with plates in hand. But underneath it all was something deeper. Everyone was there for a reason that went far beyond a Sunday afternoon picnic.
Roots for Reece began with grief.
Chef Blake Gotliffe founded the event in memory of his friend Reece Byrd, remembered by those who knew him as generous, full of life, and happiest when people were gathered together. After Byrd died, Gotliffe and his wife wanted to honor him in a way that felt real—not polished, corporate, or distant.
“It started really small, just in our backyard,” Gotliffe says. “It was just my wife and I organizing it, getting a couple of chefs together for a dinner under the trees.”
That backyard dinner has since grown into one of the Triangle’s most meaningful culinary fundraisers. Roots for Reece now brings together more than a dozen chefs, beverage partners, and roughly 150 to 200 guests for its annual Chef’s Picnic, all in support of the North Carolina Harm Reduction Coalition. Through the years, the event has helped fund more than 3,000 doses of naloxone, the lifesaving medication used to reverse opioid overdoses.
“It’s been nothing short of incredible,” says Eric Montagne, director of operations at Locals Seafood, who has participated in Roots for Reece since its first year. “Blake and Megan have worked so hard to create such a wonderful event for the community, raising awareness and funds for people struggling with substance abuse while also celebrating the food and beverage talent in our area.”
That chef and vendor support has become a defining aspect of the event. The lineup has continued to grow, bringing in names from across the Triangle and beyond, including Kevin Ruiz, Bobby McFarland, Kyle Fletcher, Serge Falcoz-Vigne, and Montagne, alongside beverage partners like Trophy Brewing Co. and Deep River Brewing Co.
“Every single chef that participates has some kind of personal connection,” Gotliffe says. “They’ve experienced it themselves, or through family or friends. In this industry, unfortunately, it’s something we all see.”
Montagne knows that loss firsthand. He’s lost his father, grandfather, brother-in-law, and too many friends to substance abuse. “Battling addiction is a daily fight,” he says, “and some days you need a little extra help to make the right choices, or get access to medical care in the event of an emergency.”
That shared understanding gives the event its tone. Guests may arrive for the food, but they quickly sense that Roots for Reece carries something heavier than a typical culinary festival. It’s celebratory, yes, but also reflective. People laugh. They eat. They drink. They talk. And somewhere in the middle of it all, the stigma around addiction begins to loosen.
“Everybody there has a personal attachment to the cause,” Gotliffe says. “People come up to me and say they can’t really explain it—and I think that’s because it’s something you feel more than you can describe.”
Through its partnership with the North Carolina Harm Reduction Coalition, Roots for Reece emphasizes education, access to resources, and support rather than shame. “For a long time, ‘enabling’ has had a negative meaning when it comes to addiction,” Gotliffe says. “But what we’re doing is enabling people to get help—to access support and have a real chance at recovery.”
Gotliffe knows how important that shift can be. He’s been sober from heroin for 17 years and sober from alcohol for nearly a decade. His own recovery has shaped the way he talks about addiction, community, and the danger of giving up on people too soon.
“You can’t do it alone,” he says. “Community is everything.”
That’s where the naloxone funding becomes more than a statistic. Every dose represents the possibility of another day, another phone call, another chance for someone to find help. For families who have lost a loved one, that possibility is everything. “That’s what we’re striving for,” Gotliffe says. “Knowing that something like this could help prevent even one family from going through what we did—it means the world.”
The event also gives chefs something they rarely get: a moment to gather outside the controlled chaos of the kitchen. There may be a little friendly competition at the chef stations, but the spirit of the event isn’t about outshining one another. It’s about showing up.
Looking ahead, Gotliffe sees room for Roots for Reece to grow beyond Clayton. The model—chefs, community, food, and harm reduction—could work anywhere because the issue isn’t limited to one place. “I’d love to take it to the mountains, maybe the coast,” he says. “There’s no reason it couldn’t work in other places. The need is everywhere.”
