Falling for The Horse Shoe Farm in Hendersonville, NC
- Ingrid Lemme
- 5 days ago
- 8 min read
Updated: 3 days ago
Escape from Paradise with Ingrid Lemme-Chalut
Falling for The Horse Shoe Farm in Hendersonville, NC
As featured in the September 2025 issue of The Montauk Sun, “Falling for The Horse Shoe Farm in Hendersonville, NC” will be part of my Escape from Paradise series — this time, exploring Hendersonville, NC. The Montauk Sun is available in print at selected locations from Montauk and The Hamptons to Manhattan, and online at MontaukSun.com. The print edition will include a URL to the full story online. Stay tuned for my next feature, which will dive deeper into Hendersonville’s attractions, with The Horse Shoe Farm making a special return.
Edited by John Lomitola
The first time my husband and I saw The Horse Shoe Farm, we were still in the car. It was a Tuesday afternoon in late summer, the kind of day when the Blue Ridge Mountains seem to hold their breath. We’d just turned off the main road, tires rolling smoothly along the paved drive, when the view opened wide — rolling pastures framed by white fences, a cluster of neat barns, and straight ahead, a pristine white horse barn with a jaunty weather vane. Parked proudly in front, like something from a vintage postcard, sat a cherry-red pickup truck.
We’d later learn that barn was no ordinary barn at all, but The Stable Spa, a serene sanctuary where the scent of fresh hay has been replaced with lavender oils and candlelight. But in that moment, before we knew its secret, we both felt the same thing: we were already falling for this place.
Rachel, the owners’ daughter-in-law, would later tell us that we were following in the tire tracks of a very different era. Decades ago, this land was a working cattle farm. In the late ’90s, it belonged to the Mullis family, who filled the barns with vintage Corvettes, Chevys, and antique motorcycles, hosting shows that drew crowds from across the state.
That chapter gave way in 2017, when the Turchin family bought the property — drawn by its beauty, yes, but also by a certain feeling. John Turchin, head of the family’s multigenerational development company, had long built grand communities in Florida and luxury retreats in the North Carolina mountains, including The Lodges at Eagles Nest.
But here, his son Jordan saw a different path: restore, not reinvent. Instead of turning the acreage into another development, the Turchins chose to preserve the farm’s bones, reimagining it as a sanctuary where guests could gather, slow down, and be.
Inside the red front-desk barn, a lovely young woman welcomed us warmly and made note that we’d be leaving our car here for the afternoon — our first adventure awaited.
Moments later, Ann, the gracious owner of The Regal Ride, rolled up in her sleek Mercedes Sprinter to whisk us away on a wine tour through Hendersonville’s Crest of the Blue Ridge vineyards. Rolling hills, rows of vines, and a mysterious haze over the countryside made for a beautiful welcome to the region.
By the time we returned to The Horse Shoe Farm, the late afternoon light had softened and we were ready to settle in. Our home for the next two nights was tucked beside serene Willow Pond — the Pond Cottage, Cardinal Suite 1.
Stepping inside, we found a space both stylish and welcoming. A deep sapphire velvet sectional anchored the living area, its bold leopard-print pillows playfully offset by modern, clean lines.
One wall was dominated by a dramatic, dreamlike equine painting attached to a sliding barn door, a perfect nod to the farm’s heritage. On the glass-topped table, a welcome arrangement of fresh flowers, a bottle of wine, local chocolate, and a jar of a hand-poured Horse Shoe Farm candle — with a scent of fresh cut hay — greeted us like an embrace.
Throughout the suite, Asian-inspired, authentic decorative pieces whispered of faraway travels and the owners’ love of collecting — the Buddha head on the coffee table, the carved wooden detailing beneath the glass, the eclectic art pieces that felt chosen, not staged.
Through the sliding barn-style door, the bedroom glowed with crisp white linens and rolled towels, and beyond it, a marble-clad bathroom promised long soaks in its deep tub for two. The shower was the size that could have washed off a family of four. Just kidding. We unpacked, freshened up, and changed for dinner — ready for our first meal at The Silo Cookhouse.
The Silo Cookhouse’s main dining room holds two impressive, farmhouse-style communal tables that encourage conversation, while the enclosed porch offers a slightly more intimate setting also featuring two long farmhouse-style communal tables — the perfect spot for us on our first night.
As twilight spilled in through the windows, the scent of slow-cooked meats and fresh herbs filled the air. We began with warm, crusty bread and creamy butter that melted instantly into its airy crumb. This was house sourdough paired with cultured butter and flake salt — simple yet divine.
Then came a delicate salad of crisp local greens and spring vegetables, toasted almond slivers, and vibrant edible petals with a light citrusy vinaigrette. Next was the smoked trout pâté, rich and intense, served with flatbread — insane, for lack of a better word.
For mains, I opted for the pork loin with beans, tender and deeply flavored, while Marcus chose pan-seared chicken. As we exchanged our plates back and for so we both could taste the local fare, we agreed, the chicken — with skin perfectly crisp, meat tender and juicy, perched on creamy greens and draped in a velvety black garlic jus, finished with golden marigold petals — was the standout.
Curious about the magic behind the plates, I asked our waiter Charles if I might peek into the kitchen. Moments later, I was standing at the pass, watching Executive Chef Brett Suess and his team move in a quiet, choreographed rhythm. Suess, a northern Virginia native and graduate of the Indiana University of Pennsylvania Academy of Culinary Arts, honed his craft during nearly a decade in Asheville’s vibrant food scene before bringing his refined-yet-homey style to The Horse Shoe Farm. Focused but smiling, he slid another perfectly plated pork loin and roasted chicken into the pass, a small nod of pride in his eyes.
We ended the night with a strawberry-rhubarb Napoleon so crisp and airy it seemed to dissolve into sweetness on the tongue. The porch hummed with conversation, glasses clinked, and for a moment, the world felt distilled to this table, this meal, this night.
After a night wrapped in the quiet luxury of Cardinal Suite 1, we woke to soft light spilling across Willow Pond. I made tea, and together we stepped out onto our deck. The world was still — swallows skimming low over the water, dragonflies tracing quick arcs in the air.
When it was time for breakfast, Charles greeted us again and led us to the same enclosed porch table where we’d dined the night before. Soon came the biscuits: crisp on top, tender within, served with pale whipped butter and glossy, amber-hued jam made right on the farm by Pastry Chef and baker Kyle McAlee. They were the kind of biscuits that make you pause mid-sentence, unwilling to miss a single bite.
Our plates followed — sunny-side eggs, smoky bacon, roasted fingerling potatoes, and fresh berries. Breakfast here was an invitation to linger, to savor, to start the day in no hurry at all. Complimentary breakfast is included for overnight guests.
That morning’s adventure took us along the Hendersonville Ice Cream Trail, learning how the sweet tradition began at a local farm before a wonderful lunch at The Book & Bee Tea House, where a menagerie of china and literary charm made us linger over our teacups.
Back at The Horse Shoe Farm, Rachel met us for a tour. She led us past the sparkling pool shaded by navy umbrellas, into paddocks where goats stood proudly on hay bales and geese chattered at the fence line, and alongside glossy-coated horses who leaned in for a pat.
From certain vantage points, the farm rolled out like a painting — green pastures divided by white fences, ponds reflecting puffy clouds, and the soft outline of the Blue Ridge Mountains to the north and the Great Smoky Mountains to the west, both part of the vast Appalachian range that cradles this region.
Rachel mentioned antiques and art the family had collected — a church pew from England now used as a bench, a chandelier with a century-old patina, sculptures tucked into garden corners. “We wanted it to feel like home,” she said, “but the kind of home where you keep discovering little stories in every room.”
She laughed telling us about the vintage car days — how locals still talk about them — and explained how her husband Jordan personally oversaw the transformation of the Stable Spa, making sure the renovation honored its barn soul.
The spa itself was a revelation. From the outside, it still looked like the handsome horse barn we’d first seen — red truck out front, white siding gleaming. Inside, it was a world of calm: softly lit treatment rooms, the scent of lavender.
Welcomed by Lou, the Spa Enthusiast, and shown around the unique facility, I had a massage by Logan Boothe, a gifted young therapist trained at the Sedona School of Massage. His healing hands left me floating, the kind of deep relaxation that seeps into your bones.
That evening, we ventured into town for dinner at SHINE in downtown Hendersonville. From our perch at the chef’s table, we watched Chef Carlos and his team work in perfect sync — a ballet of movement, timing, and creativity. The food was both comforting and inventive, each dish revealing a little more of the chef’s personality. --
Strolling before dinner, Downtown Hendersonville reminded me a whole lot of East Hampton and South Hampton, N.Y.— the same mix of elegant boutiques, charming eateries, and a pace that invites you to wander without checking the time.
After another peaceful night in our cottage, we woke to our final breakfast. A lovely young woman led us to a table by the cozy stone fireplace.
We didn’t even glance at the menu — we ordered the same breakfast as before, but this time the biscuit came with a house-made rhubarb jam so good it nearly stopped conversation. --- By 9 a.m., we were on the road, meeting our friend Craig Distl for a drive to Jump Off Rock, where the view makes you feel both infinite and small, and then on to Grandad’s Apples ’n Such for cider doughnuts, apple-picking, and a last taste of Hendersonville charm.
The Turchins’ motto, Rachel told us, is simple: “Not a place to stay — a place to be.” And standing there, less than 25 minutes south of the bustling Asheville Regional Airport, yet feeling utterly apart from the busy world, I understood exactly what she meant. Whether you come to completely retreat and recharge, or to explore the mountains, wineries, and small-town treasures before returning each night to this pastoral sanctuary, The Horse Shoe Farm offers both.
We arrived already half in love. We left knowing we’d be back — especially when apple and pumpkin picking season rolls in, painting the farm and orchards in the colors and scents of autumn. thehorseshoefarm.com
Until next month from another interesting location. Yours in travel...
Ingrid Lemme-Chalut
Escape From Paradise, Travel-writer & Blogger www.EscapeFromParadise.net
Award-winning TV Host, Publisher, Travel Writer www.MontaukSun.com
Ambassador for www.Seven-Stars.com & 15 Emmy award winning www.aTasteofHistory.org
Wieder so ein wundervoller, lebhafter Bericht von Ingrid, der mit auf die Reise nimmt. Vielen Dank dafür.
Herzliche Grüße aus Germany (freue mich schon auf die nächste Reise,-)