Linalool and trichomes, slides and shatter—the world of cannabis has its fair share of jargon, which often serves as a barrier to entry. Although select companies like Canndescent and dosist—both of which name their products based on the reactions they’re designed to impart, like “charged” or “sleep”—ignore some of the more nerdy nuances in favor of entry-level lexicon, there’s a lot to consider when approaching cannabis’ hazy threshold.
If someone were interested in learning how a Stout and a Wild Ale differ in taste, mouthfeel, and flavor profile, they might try a half pour of each at the bar, and—if especially curious—ask the bartender, or Google, for a more robust breakdown.
But weed is different. Why is that?
Of course, most reputable dispensaries and collectives hire smart, non-snobby stoners who are well-versed on differing cannabinoids’ effects, as well as giving recommendations to newcomers. (If you stop reading now, please at least internalize the fact that you should forever allow at least two hours for edibles to kick in. I might have just saved you or a friend a needless trip to the emergency room.) However, the guidance ends right after purchase. From there, the canna-curious consumer who perhaps came of age during Nixon’s reign and the associated War on Drugs—which vilified pot as if it were akin to actual heroin—goes out into the world and...waits to see what happens.
Unlike beer, cannabis affects its consumers via individualized endocannabinoid receptors and a host of physical as well as spiritual and emotional considerations. As such, it’s tough to make blanket calls on what even qualifies as “one serving” of weed. Navigating it requires some patience, experimentation and, in some cases, a mentor figure of sorts.
“Even from what people would consider major publications or resources, the majority of information about this plant is either extremely exaggerated or flat-out wrong.”
Brandon Allen, who works with Trichome Institute (a weed education and certification body that offers training programs ranging from 101 to expert—akin to sommelier-style training for wine professionals), says, “Even from what people would consider major publications or resources, the majority of information about this plant is either extremely exaggerated or flat-out wrong. Some of the published medical information is outdated and irrelevant to humans, so the technical side can also be misleading.”
It’s true that “truths” about cannabis continue to evolve, particularly as federal research remains largely stymied.
“But back then there wasn't a lot of information about cannabis and the conversation was a lot different,” Jamie Evans, founder of cannabis and lifestyle brand The Herb Somm, says about starting her brand in spring 2017. “My cannabis use was strictly recreational.”
She details a traumatic car crash that catalyzed her journey into therapeutic cannabis use. “I could sleep so much better and it seems like cannabis really healed me in that way. So shortly after that car accident, I decided to start the Herb Somm.”
Evans says she works to foster a welcoming, judgment-free environment so folks can feel comfortable asking “stupid” questions—essentially the antithesis to the know-it-all-record-shop-employee trope.
But imagine a record-shop counter in a musical mecca like New York or London: it would be likely to attract a greater number of casual or uninitiated music fans—people on vacation who are hungry to dive into the complex local culture. That’s the kind of canna-curious clientele who frequent OG Cannabis Cafe (FKA Lowell Farms: A Cannabis Cafe in Los Angeles) (in addition to, of course, the most seasoned of stoners). As the United States’ first open-air cannabis cafe, OG Cannabis Cafe welcomes tourists all along the spectrum of cannabis familiarity and use, and makes a special effort to accommodate the most green of consumers. In the way that restaurants have sommeliers to help patrons navigate a dense wine menu, OG Cannabis Cafe has a group of “flower hosts” on staff, who are trained on the ins and outs of guiding people who may not know the difference between sticky and icky. In addition to the hosts, OG equips those dining in with some breezy breakdowns of its herbal offerings.
“The cannabis menu is presented, like a wine list, alongside the food menu,” flower host Biana Blanche says. “A flower host guides you through the options and makes recommendations based on your tolerance level and desired outcome. Beside each offering are a series of adjectives including ‘uplifting,’ ‘stress-reducing,’ ‘powerful,’ and ‘deep body high.’”
“Everyone has a different endocannabinoid system. So maybe something that works for your best friend or your boyfriend might not work for you.”
Evans takes a somewhat similar approach with her clients, setting the educational scene with food.
“I really try to start at a basic level, and make people very comfortable about asking questions,” says Evans, who has an extensive background in both the wine and consumable markets. She adds that a large part of her gig involves gathering folks for meals. “I think when you're coming to a dinner and you're eating with your friends, it just has this really approachable way of educating people. So it's not like you're going into a classroom setting or even a dispensary—you're having a meal with friends. It's a really fun way to learn firsthand.”
In Trichome Institute’s more traditional learning atmosphere, Allen says the organization is finalizing a beginner-friendly, 90-minute program for consumers that will cover topics like “the experimental phase; tolerance; how to consume and what to know about the various hemp and marijuana products; understanding strain names along with the indica, sativa, and hybrid dilemma; side effects; the list goes on,” he says. “Think of this as much more than a 101—but nowhere as complex as Interpening [the program designed to grant a person their cannabis sommelier credentials].”
With such a dearth of scientific research available to consumers and professionals alike, Allen says the most major onboarding challenge is misinformation. “You can type in a cannabis subject to Google and end up with 20 different opinions about it,” he laments.
“The cannabis menu is presented, like a wine list, alongside the food menu. A flower host guides you through the options and makes recommendations based on your tolerance level and desired outcome.”
Another barrier? The fact that, since cannabis remains federally illegal, any cannabis-adjacent brand risks running into marketing challenges. “Even though Trichome isn’t selling a cannabis product, we are still flagged as if we are,” Allens says. Trichome, like many other stoner-y accounts, runs the risk of getting shadowbanned on social media platforms—or outright suspended, which would mean rebuilding a following from scratch, in addition to related headaches.
Though approaches may vary, most cannabis professionals working with newbies have similar recommendations for beginning the green-belt journey: low and slow. Namely, choosing strains with lower amounts of THC (the psychoactive component that makes you high and, in some cases, can summon some wicked paranoia) and small, spaced-out doses.
“For a cannabis novice, I would recommend them a strain with a low THC percentage like a Northern Lights or Purple Kush that gives you a happy, relaxed, euphoric feeling…” Blanche says. “And go slow; you can always smoke more—you can’t smoke less.”
Evans also urges newcomers to practice patience. “You might have to experiment with different ratios to find your perfect balance,” she says. “And that everyone has a different endocannabinoid system. So maybe something that works for your best friend or your boyfriend might not work for you.”
Allen echoes those sentiments. “You don’t need to be high to benefit from this plant—negative side effects are a real thing,” he says. “Consumers need to understand they are an incredibly unique individual, cannabis is personal, and that it’s all one big experiment. Fortunately we help guide people through this with our course.”
Words, Beca GrimmIllustrations, Lan Truong Language
