Matt Kettmann

Here's the second part of my recent two-day jaunt to see six wineries from the Santa Maria Valley and S.L.O. Coast up into Paso Robles. If you missed last week's introduction and my visits to Cambria, Outward, and Chronic Cellars, you can catch up by clicking here. Next up in this week's Full Belly Files: Nenow Family Wines Linne Calodo , and Lopai Cellars , with an overnight stay at Inn Paradiso NENOW FAMILY WINES: When Drew Nenow was just a 12-year-old 8th-grader growing up in San Diego County, he wrote a letter to his future self explaining that he wanted to study wine in college and become a winemaker. “It's not quite what I thought it would be,” said Nenow with a laugh as he showed me the cellar for Nenow Family Wines , which he runs alongside his wife, sister, and brother-in-law with the support of their extended family. He caught the bug so early because his aunt and uncle owned a winery in the Napa Valley (then Behrens & Hitchcock, now Behrens Family Winery ), where his immediate family would spend a few weeks every year. That led his own dad, Robert Nenow, to start an eponymous Napa brand that lasted about a decade. Drew followed that childhood dream to Cal Poly, during which time he worked for Turley Wine Cellars with Ehren Jordan and Tegan Passalacqua . Upon graduating in 2013, he worked for Villa San Juliette under Matt Ortman and then signed on with ONX in 2015, becoming head winemaker in 2018. I've been reviewing ONX wines since before he started, and they've always impressed me for being extremely bold and savory yet balanced with proper acidity and texture. I didn't “meet” Drew until a Rhône Rangers panel we did via Zoom last June, and this recent visit to his cellar in Tin City was the first time we actually met in person. He shared a lineup going back to his inaugural vintage of 2017, explaining the stories behind each bottling's name, like the numerology link for finding life balance represented by the Rhône blend “Elevens” and the nod to Drew being the youngest of five kids in “Last of 5,” a super-refreshing, chillable cinsault. His strategic sourcing from more than a dozen top-shelf Westside Paso vineyards is quite enviable, with sites such as Alta Colina, Gateway, Kiler Canyon, Hawks Hill, York Mountain, and Coakley adding depth to the bottlings. Today, Nenow Family Wines hovers around the 1,500-case level, and they share a tasting room with Hawks Hill Ranch in a comfortable cottage off of Adelaida Road. That's where Drew and I sipped on his pale rosé called Roesé (named after his sister and brother-in-law, last name Roesbery), his chalky white Rhône blend called The Tightrope , and that thrilling cinsault while enjoying Red Scooter Deli sandwiches on his patio. I'd recommend doing the same. LINNE CALODO: Matt Trevisan left his hometown of Escondido in the early 1990s to attend Cal Poly, where the budding pilot studied aeronautical engineering before switching to biochemistry. He came to realize that both disciplines would most likely lead to a life sitting at a computer or in a lab being a tiny cog in massive corporate machines, with any tangible impacts taking years, perhaps even decades, to become reality, if they ever even did. Meanwhile, his roommate Justin Smith's dad Pebble Smith was in the wine business, sourcing grapes for Fetzer, and planting his own vineyard in Paso Robles, where Trevisan got to try his hand at grapes. “The idea of taking a piece of land, planting it yourself, and creating your own farming philosophies?” Trevisan pondered rhetorically, as we rolled around the Willow Creek District in his new Rivian pickup. His answer for his was driving forklifts for Justin and Wild Horse wineries during their mid-1990s expansions, and then launching Linne Calodo with Justin Smith in 1998. (Smith left four years later to start Saxum .) Linne Calodo quickly became a darling of the emerging Paso Robles wine scene of the early 2000s, when the region's mountainous westside vineyards and their ability to grow bold Rhône wine grapes became national news. “We wanted to make change,” he said of the early days. “We wanted to make wines from our neighborhood, blends that were not beholden to varietals.” In 2005, Trevisan planted his Linne Calodo estate vineyard, located right near the intersection of Highway 46 and Vineyard Drive, and added the Stonethrower Vineyard just down the road in 2012. “Everything I've planted myself,” said Trevisan. He's proudly anti-bandwagon when it comes to viticultural trends, but his techniques favor dry farming and no-till when possible, much like the regenerative movement. He's pro-organic, railing against nearby properties that seem to nuke the earth with various 'cides, but also flexible with making decisions based on what vines need. “Organic and biodynamic doesn't account for water usage at all, and they don't account for energy usage,” said Trevisan, who keeps all of that in mind for his properties. Of the 5,000 cases he makes under Linne Calodo and the 2,000 he does under his more affordable label Slacker , most are Rhône blends, including the whites. But there's a touch of cabernet sauvignon and tempranillo in the mix, and then a healthy chunk of zinfandel as well. Since Linne Calodo's start a quarter-century ago, much of that zinfandel has long come from the Cherry Vineyard, a 2.5-acre plot planted in 1977. Those head-trained, dry-farmed vines only squeeze out about a half-ton of fruit per acre, to which the roughly 200 chenin blanc bushes sprinkled around the vineyard add “aromatic mágico” when co-fermented with the zin. In February, Trevisan was able to buy the 170-acre property from the Cherry family, which features another 80 or so acres of plantable slopes. “I haven't been out here much,” Trevisan told me as we rambled his Rivian over grasslands and oak-shaded, occasionally invisible trails along Willow Creek on the backside of his new ranch, which abuts the respected G2 Vineyard. It's a pretty stunning property, close to his estate, but Trevisan isn't quite sure what to do yet, as the purchase was a very quick surprise acquisition for him. “Today, I plant vineyards with the idea of a spice rack,” said Trevisan, who doesn't want to add anything to his wines to make them complete. “I want to have all the components that allow you to freely make a wine.” And now he's got a much larger potential rack to develop. See linnecalodo.com LOPAI CELLARS: Though just now releasing their first wines, the father-son duo behind Lopai Cellars is well positioned to make a major impact on the Paso Robles wine scene. They've got hands-on cellar experience thanks to dad Paul “P-Lo” Lopez, a Morro Bay native who retired after 32 years in the grocery business and then worked for 14 vintages at Villa Creek, Alta Colina, and Denner Vineyards. And they've got innovation and funding covered by the son, Brian Lopez, who was the seventh employee for the software company GitHub when it was acquired by Microsoft for $7.5 billion in 2018. When we met at their Willow Creek District estate just four minutes from Linne Calodo, which they purchased in 2019, Brian told me about an hour-long conversation he had with ChatGPT. “It figured out that we can cut our water use in half,” he said, explaining that the AI program analyzed a ton of monitoring data to determine as much. Elevating technology to save water while moving toward electric energy, rather than gas and diesel, are just the initial steps of Lopai's mission to respect the land, where the Lopez family first settled atop the Cuesta Grade back 1870. They're also focused on bringing their estate — where 32 acres are planted, with the potential to grow up to 55 — into a healthier state, as the previous owners had been pushing the vines for quantity over quality. “I'm just trying to bring new life back,” said Paul, who recently enlisted Bill Gibbs as a farming consultant. For winemaking, they're working with Anthony Yount , whom Paul worked with for years at Denner. Yount and Brian also just acquired the historic Windward Vineyard , known since 1989 as Paso's sole hotspot for pinot noir. (That pinot probably will be yanked soon, though.) After our quick vineyard tour, we gathered for a wine-paired dinner at Inn Paradiso , the bizarrely brilliant property that I first visited and wrote about in this Full Belly Files from last winter . On hand was the inn's owner Steve Werndorf as well as Yount; his wife, Hillary; Paul's wife, Michelle Rollins; and Brian's wife, the singer Nicole Stromsoe . Preparing the food was Chef Justin Lewis , who's worked kitchens from the Malibu Inn to Firestone Walker Brewing, most recently serving as culinary director for the Nomada Hotel Group (S.L.O.'s Granada Hotel, Skyview Los Alamos, etc.). The six-course spread was a masterclass in distinctive yet comfortably familiar flavors, proper portions, and pairings that actually worked across the board, from the Luxembourg bubbles that went with the Grassy Bar oysters to the five Lopai selections: Happy Canyon semillion with bass crudo; the cool-climate-y La Montanita syrah from atop Highway 46's peaks with roasted beet salad; the Jada Vineyard syrah with unctuous duck confit sugo, San Miguel–made sheep's cheese by Black Marke t, and Mighty Cap mushrooms; the estate cabernet sauvignon with smoked pork belly; and the Denner Vineyard –grown Heliotrope blend of mourvèdre and cab with the cherry-chocolate tart dessert. Because that last wine was served alongside a Spanish mourvèdre-cab blend from Jumilla called Clio that inspired Lopai's Heliotrope, it made for a memorable experience. I was surprised to learn that a pairing of grapes well-known across the Central Coast like mourvèdre and cab could work so well together, with mourvèdre filling in the earthy gaps of the herb- and fruit-driven cab. That Brian and Paul Lopez were confident enough in their early efforts to share the Heliotrope alongside its Clio inspiration was a testament to how seriously they're taking their father-son adventure. When everyone left, Werndorf and I sipped on a bit of Cuish mezcal to finish the night, then met up again for coffee and fresh-picked berries the next morning. I peeked at the pool as the hot Paso sun rose, but had to hustle back home. Next time. See lopaicellars.com and innparadiso.com From Our Table Here are some recent stories you may have missed: Rebecca Horrigan reports on The Oyster Bar , a new shellfish spot within Moby Dick restaurant on Stearns Wharf. There's still some space left in Saturday's tamale-making class led by Richard Lambert, the founder of National Tamale Day. Check out details here. Tia Trinh reports on Rori's Artisanal Creamery and its plans for National Ice Cream Day on July 21. Leslie Dinaberg didn't realize the Filipino-inspired dinner she was attending at Mattei's Tavern was also a goodbye party for chef Rhoda Magbitang Coming in hot from last night's STARS of Pinot Noir event in Hollywood, I'll be at the Cuyama Buckhorn tonight to meet Vahe Keushgerian and try his Armenian wines in person. I interviewed tattoo legend and urban art superstar Mr. Cartoon about his recent collaboration with Title X Wines to craft a magnum-sized bottle of Happy Canyon red wine. Wearing my Wine Enthusiast hat, I wrote about the top tasting rooms to visit right now in the Temecula Valley, based on the advice of hospitality experts who live there. Also for WE I wrote about double- and hyper-decanting wine , with comments from Tristan Pitre of San Ysidro Ranch and my high school buddy Greg Jones, who was the first to show me that a blender can enhance a tightly wound wine. (He was also the first person I ever really interviewed at all, prior to our friendship, when he was the captain of the JV football team and I was writing an article for our school newspaper

Credit: Visit the Santa Ynez Valley | Credit: patrick muniz Compared to even just 10 years ago, the Santa Ynez Valley is a vibrant culinary destination, sporting restaurants and edible experiences that rival wine countries everywhere. To toast and amplify this reality, Shelby Sim and his regional marketing team at Visit Santa Ynez Valley launched Taste of the Santa Ynez Valley in 2019, and it quickly became a premiere means of sampling much of what there is to enjoy from Solvang to Los Alamos. Many of its events, especially the collaborative dinners, are also very quick to sell out, which is why we're telling you about it almost two months in advance, as this year's version isn't until the end of September. “The goal is to show off all that the Santa Ynez Valley has to offer — not in one place, in one day, but in each of our six townships, over four days, to immerse in each community's vibe, food, and wine,” said Sim, who was hired by the organization in 2014. “It's a taste, if you will, of this incredible destination where award winning wines and Michelin-rated restaurants are thriving.” This year's version is spotlighting the 20th anniversary of the film Sideways , which is what put the Santa Ynez Valley — and pinot noir — on the map for so many wine lovers around the world. One of the film's stars, Virginia Madsen, will join the celebration, and more names may be added soon. Among other highlights for the September 26 to 29 celebration are: Thursday night's Santa Maria and Los Alamos wine tastings culminating in a collaboration dinner by Bell's in the middle of “Little L.A.” All day activities on Friday, with horseback-riding, yoga, workshops, vineyard visits, and more, with tastings at the Ballard Inn and in Los Olivos, followed by a collab dinner right in the middle of Grand Avenue. More activities, including the new zipline and a “ Sideways Set-Jetting” tour, plus the Franc & Blanc Fest at Gainey VIneyard and a collab dinner inside Sunstone's cave. Sunday features vineyard hikes and two big Sideways events: a 20th anniversary midday celebration at Hitching Post 2 in Buellton and then a reception and screening of the Oscar-winning film at the Solvang Festival Theater that evening. Get your tickets and more information for all these events at tastesyv.com Chef Brooke Stockwell | Credit: Visit the Santa Ynez Valley

The Buellton farm’s family-friendly cabanas now open as food service caters to both casual and classy tastes.

2017 Tubbs Fire. Napa Valley floor harvest near Raymond (vineyard unknown). – Image Courtesy of Tim Carl Photography

When it comes to vacations, I was once a fervent believer in never going to the same place twice. Life is short, and airfare isn't cheap, so why not see something new every time you go anywhere? So I embarked on our family's recent two-week European escapade with an ever-so-slight indifference, seeing that the arc of our journey — Barcelona to Bordeaux to San Sebastian — covered grounds that we'd previously trod on past adventures. Of course, with so much to eat, drink, and experience, from tapas near the towers of Sagrada Familia to pintxos above the sun-soaked sands of La Concha, I had nothing to worry about. In fact, I'm a little surprised to report that my entire opinion on travel is in flux. Could the richness provided by returning to the same places actually outweigh the flashy spice that decorates everywhere brand-new? Don't get me wrong: I hope to never stop exploring lands where I've never been. But I'll be proudly heading back to my favorites as well, and I'll never again question why others do the same. Those who followed our journey on Instagram, where I posted nearly 400 photos on four sets of SpainFrance2024 stories , might see why. Our trip was a lifelong memory-creating mashup of big cities, small villages, fancy bites, casual eats, and attractions huge and homey. I like to think we took this vacation at an ideal age for our kids, who are 12 and 14, to appreciate and remember the meaningful parts. I'm all for traditional schooling — Madeline started at La Colina this week, and Mason is a freshman at Dos Pueblos — but I've learned way more by traveling than I ever did in class. And unlike school, which tends to end in youth, the lessons of travel never cease. In an effort to make our highlights easy to enjoy, I'm breaking it down into segments that may appeal to different readers' interests. If you want more info, contacts, or further advice on exploring any of these spots, feel free to email me. I'm happy to share more of what I learned. Eye-Opening Experiences: Our trip started in Barcelona, where the Sagrada Família looms large as must-see numero uno. (Tourists have overrun much of the city, so we smartly rented an apartment in the still-mostly-local neighborhood called Gràcia .) I'd seen Gaudi's masterpiece vision from the outside before, but the mind-bending color scheme enabled by the rainbows of stained glass inside is even more impressive. It's worth either the wait or the fee for a tour… Thanks to recently visiting Dave Phinney's Our Lady of Guadalupe Vineyard near Lompoc, I learned that he owns Department 66 winery in Maury, France . So we stopped there to stay overnight in the tiny village and meet winemaker Richard Case. You can read about our tasting and dinner below, but the chance to wander among century-old grenache vines in the remote Pyrenees was rivaled only by our spotting of a massive bird of prey, most likely a short-toed snake eagle , with a wingspan approaching six feet…. In Bordeaux , where my wife was born and raised until 5 years old, we stayed at the home of her lifelong friends. On the day we ventured into the city, it was a treat to see my kids freely enjoy pink sips of Rosita Bomba in the open air, matter-of-factly encouraged by the staff at Michel's Bistro . The next day, my son rented clubs and went golfing solo, which sounded like a very unique outing. [Click to enlarge] From left: Veal andouillette at Michel's in Bordeaux; Mason golfs outside of Bordeaux The morning we drove to St.-Jean-Pied-de-Port , the charming owner of our rental informed us that a Basque youth association was hosting a concert outside of our apartment that evening. She offered to put us elsewhere, but we thought it might be cool. As we hauled our bags up the cobblestone road, we found a stage erected on our literal doorstep, with a hundred or so people gathering to watch the show. The next morning the same scene's utter silence was only broken by the footsteps of pilgrims beginning their Camino de Santiago …. It happened to be “ Gran Semana ” when we got to San Sebastián , making this summertime Spanish mecca all the more packed. As we cut the heat and humidity by dipping into the salty sea that rings La Concha, the loudest noise was not waves but the roar of thousands who packed the beach. In the evenings, swimsuits were exchanged for ciders and beers as fireworks exploded above. On our last day there, after riding the antiquated amusements atop Monte Igeldo , we witnessed a hot-blooded fight between a muscled middle-aged man and older woman, the subject of which remains a mystery to us. But there was cake thrown everywhere…. In Bilbao, the last stop on our journey primarily for airport reasons, the Guggenheim was worth a gander. [Click to enlarge] Scenes from the Guggenheim in Bilbao Fancy Bites: We've trained our kids to appreciate and mostly enjoy gourmet cuisine, which allows us to dine at fancy restaurants with relative ease, so long as you don't count the bank account damage. Too many of those sorts of meals is tough on the schedule and stomach, but we scheduled enough to understand a little bit about what the finer chefs in these corners of Europe are up to. While fighting off our red-eye haze and awaiting the keys to our Barcelona apartment, our first meal at Babula qualified as fancy, though we just needed a place to sit. Normandy oysters in tigre de leche, 45-day-aged picanha carpaccio, and scallops with guanciale, almond cream, and pea foam topped the menu. It was also our introduction to Barcelona's vermouth tradition, which we carried on judiciously for the next few days. A propitious start. Our most haute tweezer cuisine came via a recommendation from Tara Penke, co-owner of Gala in Santa Barbara who also owns a restaurant called Picnic in Barcelona. The seafood-centered prix-fixe dinner at Direkte Boqueria was bonkers, pairing shellfish and finfish with all sorts of things — watermelon juice, smoke cherries, carrot puree, fig leaf oil, shaved peach, cracker made of shrimp heads — that you wouldn't predict. (The free-flowing wine pairing was a plus.) As directed, I emailed for a menu to recall the specifics of what I consumed, but they never responded. The next evening's dinner at Maleducat was a very close second in terms of creativity, but took first when it came to Catalonian traditions. There was a crunchy, poultry-filled tube called rostit; oysters in chicken broth; blue fin tartare with smoked egg yolk, miso, and pickle; fideuà noodles with pork rib and cod tripe; the roasted pigeon special; and a tonka-bean-based dessert. [Click to enlarge] From left: Shrimp head sauce over shrimp at Maleducat in Barcelona; Espelette-speckled chicken at l'Envers du Decor in St. Emilion Most of our Bordeaux meals were casual, but Joanna and I did book a lunch in the historic wine hub — and current tourist zone — of St. Emilion. Suggested by Crown Point winemaker Simon Faury — he's French, so he must know! — l'Envers du Décor hit all the right notes, from the melon soup, to the tomato salad, to the Espelette pepper crumble-topped chicken. I opted for chartreuse for dessert. San Sebastian's pintxos scene is mostly casual in nature, but we found seats at a newer spot called Ssua , and I'd throw their modernized dishes — baby squid ink rice, shrimp-chipotle croquette, pork cheek taco, charcoal-grilled secreto — into the fancy category. Thanks to a recommendation from Samsara 's winemaker Matt Brady, we took a 10-minute cab ride to the port at Pasaia, then a cute ferry ride across the harbor to reach Casa Cámara , a restaurant that dates back to 1884. The food wasn't cheap, but the drinks were, and we went deep into the seafood fare: Dublin Bay prawns, fish-stuffed peppers, a tuna-laced tomato salad, whole sea bream, hake in thick pil pil sauce, and, for Joanna, a full plate of shellfish. Then the kicker: watching as lobsters were yanked straight from the sea into the dining room. Casual Grub: Most of our meals were more on the casual side: freshly baked breads and pastries from Forn Lacatarga on our square in Barcelona; cod-stuffed peppers and papas bravas on the same square from Bar Canigó ; a dinner of pork, mussels, and sausage grilled over old grapevines with winemaker Richard Case and his wife, Sarah Case, at Le Pichenouille in Maury. There were also pintxos galore in San Sebastian, our longest stint being at Bar La Cepa , and our latest at the historic Gandarias after the fireworks, as well as chocolate-dipped popsicles at Locopolo , which would succeed here in a flash freeze. Edgy Eats: Traveling in foreign lands does present foodstuffs that push even our rather adventurous California boundaries. In that vein, we tried a very savory, slightly funky veal intestine sausage called andouillette at Michel's in Bordeaux ; another intestinal treat called grenier médocain , which is a specialty of the Medoc side of the Garonne River, at our friend Pascal's home; and another local charcuterie called gratton de Lormont at Martine and Patrick's house (that one was more like tasty ham, not so edgy). During a lunch on the road in St.-Jean-de-Luz , a hefty plate of massive Arcachon oysters; juicy, cold, brain-exploding shrimp; and an ambitious pile of whelks still in their shells. Those last snail-like treats were a bit tough to chew down, though had a flavor similar to abalone. Wine Buzzes: Since wine is my daily work, I didn't make it a centerpiece of this trip…. However, we did taste quite a bit of bold grenache, syrah, mourvèdre, and carignane with Richard Case at Department 66 , as well as from bottles of his own brand Domaine Pertusiane , which I found a touch more elegant. I learned a bit about “hairy grenache,” a k a lledoner pelut, a variety that hasn't quite touched our shores, as far as I know. In Bordeaux, my wife and I took a private tour of Chateau Angelus , which has long championed cabernet franc in the merlot-dominant region of St. Emilion. The winery is under intense renovation, after which time the tanks will be suspended from the ceiling. (It's as wacky as it sounds.) We tasted two bottles, the 2020 Carillon (more affordable label, at $125-ish a bottle) and the 2016 Angelus, which comes in closer to $500 a pop. Both were fantastic, the Angelus striking that super-next-level chord that I only experience once or so a year. Graciously, they don't sell wine there, so I wasn't compelled to break any banks. I did, however, buy a couple bottles of Bordeaux at Comptoir des Vignobles in St. Emilion to enjoy that night over dinner at Martine and Patrick's a Chateau Belle-Vue Haut-Medoc from 2009 (Mason's birth year) and a Chateau Roc de Boisseaux Saint-Emilion Grand Cru from 2012 (Madeline's birth year). Both were under €50, and both were still in their prime. I can't get enough txakolina , the zesty, nearly effervescent white wine grape poured throughout Basque country, particularly in San Sebastian. It's overtaken my fascination with the region's cider, and I could drink it all day, every day. More Time Needed: There were a few spots that will require return trips to further investigate, perhaps sooner rather than later. Our bathroom stop in Girona turned into a quick lunch of sandwiches and charcuterie at The River Café , located at the foot of a cathedral, with downriver views that reminded me of Florence. I've since heard many people speak of Girona's glories, and it makes a perfect homebase to explore the Emporda wine region, the Dalí museum in Figueres (which we only drove by), and the Costa Brava, including Cadaques. The medium-sized French city of Pau , nestled in the foothills of the Pyrenees, sported that energy of a spot-on-the-verge. There's plenty of history to learn, a number of solid wine shops and restaurants (see creperie above), and what felt like a vibrant scene, even in just two hours there…. It was my second time in St.-Jean-de-Luz , the last seaside town before France becomes Spain. Imposing shellfish plate aside (see above), the thrilling white wine I had at lunch by Vins Egiategia had apparently been aged for some time in the sea just off the coast. Given my experience with underwater wine here in Santa Barbara, that's enough to pull me back for another taste. From Our Table Here are some food & drink stories from Independent.com that you may have missed during FBF's two-week break: Leslie Dinaberg had a good time checking out Angel Oak's new menu at the Bacara. Rebecca Horrigan got the back story on the Lieu Dit and Tyler Winery tasting room in downtown S.B. (but unfortunately no mention of their world-class, and apparently last vintage of, melon de bourgogne!). Tia Trinh reports on Whiskey Richards bartender Sarah Thomas launching a mobile bar cart called Off the Wagon Lauren Chiou reports on Mo's To Go, a catering business run by a neurodivergent staff. Ty Warner launched a new tequila , and out staff was there to party about it. I returned to Vega Vineyard to hang with Steve Clifton and learn about their new cabanas and other all-ages fun. Fri, Aug 30 9:00 PM Santa Barbara Sat, Aug 31 10:00 AM Santa Barbara Wed, Aug 28 12:00 PM Santa Barbara Wed, Aug 28 3:30 PM Santa Barbara Thu, Aug 29 12:00 PM Santa Barbara Thu, Aug 29 7:00 PM Santa Barbara Thu, Aug 29 7:30 PM Santa Barbara Fri, Aug 30 9:00 PM Santa Barbara Sat, Aug 31 10:00 AM Santa Barbara Wed, Aug 28 12:00 PM Santa Barbara Wed, Aug 28 3:30 PM Santa Barbara Thu, Aug 29 12:00 PM Santa Barbara Thu, Aug 29 7:00 PM Santa Barbara Thu, Aug 29 7:30 PM Santa Barbara Fri, Aug 30 9:00 PM Santa Barbara Sat, Aug 31 10:00 AM Santa Barbara

Kurt Oriol grew up with one foot in Madrid — where the bounty of Spanish meat, cheese, fish, and produce was everywhere — and the other in New York City, where his homeland's cuisine was nowhere to be found. “Spanish food is relatively nonexistent if you compare it to the massive influence that France and Italy have had,” explained Oriol. “As a Spanish-American, I was really frustrated by this. I'm telling everybody that our food is amazing, and they have no idea what I'm talking about.” Following in the path of trailblazers like José Andrés, who brought tapas to the American table, Oriol is working overtime to change that dynamic. In the fall of 2021, he launched the meat delivery service Campo Grande , which sells raw, flash-frozen Ibérico pork raised by Spanish farmers to home cooks and restaurant chefs across the country. Showcasing a variety of cuts both familiar and obscure, the brand is opening eyes to how delicious and different Ibérico is compared to the bland, industrialized pigs that have long dominated the American table. “It's a rediscovery of what pork really is,” said Oriol. “I'm convincing Americans that this is not the other white meat.” He's combatting “preconceived notions” that pork is somehow less glorious than beef — many of Campo Grande's cuts are properly called “steaks” — and that the flesh has to be cooked to death to be safe for eating. Like a good piece of beef, Ibérico should be eaten medium rare, said Oriol, explaining that the old threat of trichinosis is exceedingly rare now, especially when dealing with high-quality pigs. I discovered Campo Grande about a year ago, inspired by a few bits of a cut called secreto that I shared with a colleague at Daou Vineyards in Paso Robles. I purchased a discounted $250 mashup of their “Ibérico Pork” and “BBQ Grill Master” packages just in time for the holidays, and found the meat to be as deeply red as fresh beef from the butcher. In addition to the secreto , the cuts included unfamiliar names like presa and coppa as well as familiar things like rib chops and flank steak. I've since tried their bacon, pastrami, charcuterie, and ground Ibérico/Wagyu, and even sent my brother a package for his birthday. Like any new food, there's a slight learning curve to mastering each, but the results are palate-changing. Oriol explained it best, noting that it's more challenging to get people to try out raw meats than it is to turn them onto ready-to-eat tinned fish, charcuterie, or cheese from Spain. “But once people try it, it's like, ‘Where has this been all this time?'” he explained. I concur. Once you realize what we've been missing for generations, you can't help but feel a little bit duped. It's not just about the deeper flavors. Raised by small family farms, the Ibérico pigs are “much daintier” than most American hogs, said Oriol, and they're allowed to live about twice as long. Unlike their more processed cousins, they're not fattened by industrial grains, instead enjoying a varied diet of barley, oats, sunflower seeds, acorns, and other nuts. “Not only is it better for animal welfare, it's also healthier for the consumer eating them,” said Oriol, explaining that the more delicate fats render at lower temperatures. “You also get this amazing byproduct of the process, which is that it tastes freaking delicious.” Oriol's first attempt to spread the Spanish pork gospel was by raising the pigs himself. In 2014, after spending some of his post-NYU years in banking, Oriol cofounded an ambitious Ibérico pig farm in North Carolina. But the hurdles to developing an impactful national product while adhering to regenerative standards seemed insurmountable. “It was impossible to grow at scale,” said Oriol. “There's just a massive supply chain. It's so hard to source the right feed that is cost-effective for the farm.” He's happy to see more success with Campo Grande, whose staff of about 10 employees is now also selling “Vaca Vieja” beef — from mature cows up to 12 years old — and quail, with sausages coming next. Crediting many of the chefs who buy Campo Grande as his best ambassadors, Oriol explained, “It's been surprisingly awesome how well it's been received.” See eatcampogrande.com Sat, Aug 31 7:30 PM Santa Barbara Fri, Sep 06 5:30 PM Santa Barbara Fri, Aug 30 9:00 PM Santa Barbara Sat, Aug 31 10:00 AM Santa Barbara Sat, Aug 31 7:00 PM Santa Barbara Sat, Aug 31 7:30 PM Santa Barbara Sat, Aug 31 7:30 PM Santa Barbara Fri, Sep 06 5:30 PM Santa Barbara Fri, Aug 30 9:00 PM Santa Barbara Sat, Aug 31 10:00 AM Santa Barbara Sat, Aug 31 7:00 PM Santa Barbara Sat, Aug 31 7:30 PM Santa Barbara Sat, Aug 31 7:30 PM Santa Barbara Fri, Sep 06 5:30 PM Santa Barbara

The 16th annual Taste of the Vine Comes to Santa Barbara Historical Museum on September 14.

Bibi Ji's new location in a former McDonald's on State Street features pink walls and tons of natural light. | Credit: Ingrid Bostrom The primary challenge that Bibi Ji faced upon opening six years ago was convincing American diners that Indian cuisine — long lingering in this country's strip malls as budget buffet fare — deserved to be modernized and demand a higher price. Given social-media-igniting dishes like uni biryani, craveable shareables like crisp cauliflower slaked in chili-garlic-sesame sauce, and elevated standards like butter chicken and baingan bharta (arguably the best use of eggplant on the planet), that battle was quickly won. The stylish dining room, trend-defining natty wines curated by cofounder/superstar somm Rajat Parr, and hipster-haute vibes helped, too. Co-owner and main operator Alejandro Medina's latest challenge was more Santa Barbaran in flavor: Despite near-dead traffic on the 700 block of State Street and not much support for the improvements that the restaurant had already paid for, rent was going up. “It was a landlord that we didn't see a future growing with,” said Medina. “We can leave it at that.” So, over this past spring and summer, they moved everything five blocks up to the heart of the Arts District, one of downtown's busiest corridors, and everything is all the better for it. Taking over the former McDonald's at 1213 State Street, the new Bibi Ji is all about smiles and sunshine, its pink walls and ambient light a brilliant contrast to the dark, shady hues of the original space. “The old place, we were stuck with, and we tried to build our brand around it,” said Medina, who was born and mostly raised in Santa Barbara County. “The new place, we built it around our brand.” It also came with a much larger kitchen, enabling catering opportunities as well as Friday to Sunday lunch service, which just started last weekend. Overseeing the day-to-day is Chef Israel Romero, who's been with Bibi Ji since the early days, learning from cofounders Jessi and Gary Singh before they left the business. “He's been cooking Indian food for the last 15 years,” said Medina, including Romero's pre–Bibi Ji experience. “He serves a very key role in our entire operation.” The menu is mostly the exact same, though there will be an increasing emphasis on Bengali dishes from Kolkata, the hometown of Parr. “We really wanted Kolkata to shine on the menu more,” said Medina, who traveled with his family and Parr to that Indian metropolis last year for further inspiration. Another steady influence comes from consulting chef Kiran Bheemarao, who is originally from Bangalore. “These are all recipes that Kiran and Raj grew up eating,” said Medina, “recipes that Raj's mom and grandma cooked for him.” That includes the papri chaat, which I'd never ordered before I visited during the new location's friends and family dinner in June. The snacky dish, which is popular all around South Asia, smartly combines crunchy, chip-like things with saucy, dip-like things in one explosively flavorful bite. In Bibi Ji's case, they douse toasted cumin-ajwain crackers, chickpea, and potato with yogurt, tamarind, and chile, playing on texture and taste in addictive ways. Credit: Ingrid Bostrom Over that and classics like the chicken kebab, butter chicken, coconut curry, and perfectly baked naan, we tried a range of the natural, often funky wines that Parr and Medina are championing. That includes Parr's by-the-glass creations from his San Simeon vineyard and Cambria winery (he purchased the former Stolo property), and Medina's own wines that he sources from Bolivia, where his dad was born. “It was a project that I started with my late father,” he said of his Bitoque wines, which are made from vines thought to be more than a century (or two?) old. “It was really a battle to get them exported. It's something that I'm very proud that I was able to bring to fruition. The idea of working with these ancient vines is something I never thought I would be able to do.” Thanks to the larger space, Medina was able to bring all the wines he's been saving in three separate storage spaces together into one spot, and offer all of them on the list. “I saved a lot of things that I believed would taste better in a few years,” said Medina. “That's something my bookkeeper hated. He never understood why I was saving wines. I never knew that I'd have a new restaurant, but I knew the wines would speak for themselves wherever I opened them.” Medina is most amped about Bibi Ji's block, home to culinary trailblazers like bouchon, Arigato, and Olio e Limone and trendsetters like Sama Sama and Good Lion. “Just the whole mix is better,” said Medina. “We park in the back lot and I see Mitchell [Sjerven] going to bouchon. It's just really nice to be amongst these established restaurants. Those are the OGs. They're the people that I looked up to when I opened this place. I still look up to them, and it's really nice to be in the same neighborhood.” Bibi Ji, 1213 State St.; (805) 560-6845; bibijisb.com Wed, Oct 02 12:00 PM Santa Barbara Wed, Oct 09 5:30 PM Santa Barbara Sat, Oct 12 8:00 PM Santa Barbara Sat, Sep 07 7:00 PM Santa Barbara Fri, Sep 06 5:30 PM Santa Barbara Wed, Sep 11 5:30 PM Santa Barbara Wed, Oct 02 12:00 PM Santa Barbara Wed, Oct 09 5:30 PM Santa Barbara Sat, Oct 12 8:00 PM Santa Barbara Sat, Sep 07 7:00 PM Santa Barbara Fri, Sep 06 5:30 PM Santa Barbara Wed, Sep 11 5:30 PM Santa Barbara Wed, Oct 02 12:00 PM Santa Barbara Wed, Oct 09 5:30 PM Santa Barbara Sat, Oct 12 8:00 PM Santa Barbara

Right as we drove by, I knew the green and yellow house on Santa Barbara Street just down from East Canon Perdido would soon be ours. The rent was right, the downtown location was perfect, and the clapboard, slightly tippy condition ensured that only recent college graduates with Isla Vista experience and entry-level jobs were going to find comfort in the two-bedroom spread's general state of disrepair. Ever since move-in day — April 4, 2000, to be specific — I've been working on a coming-of-age memoir about my seven years of living there, as long as you consider “working” to be living there until 2007 and, ever since, thinking about what it all meant. Those would become the relatively halcyon days at the beginning of my adult life, when what is now started to crystallize atop a $7 per hour proofreader's wage, scrappy freelance assignments, and the realization that constant hustling would be the only way to make writing, primarily by means of journalism, a viable career. I've pondered almost constantly how best to plot such a book, whether to stick to the utmost truth, or to veer into a fictionalized storyline, which would protect the guilty and more easily grant a coherent narrative. I've wondered how to sensitively recount loves found and lost and found, how to handle certain less savory characters who passed through our lives, or even how to present the less-than-legal things that our protagonists were occasionally up to back then. But there's at least three things I settled on long ago. The first is that the title will one day be The Green and Yellow House . As in, “We live in that green and yellow house on Santa Barbara Street, right across from Thrasher Books and Our Daily Bread,” or, a bit later, “across from C'est Cheese,” or, if referencing today, just “the cheese shop.” The second is that an early, accurate scene must be of me pulling out a typewriter that I'd just purchased from a thrift store and setting it up to work on my new porch, where the traffic buzzed by and colorful lives carried about, mostly unaware of our presence. I spooled in my first sheet of paper and typed just a few lines when the ink ran out. I still have the typewriter, and it still has no ink. [Click to enlarge]: From left: A scene from poker night in the backyard; A massive palm tree still stands in front of the home. The third is that what and how we ate will be a recurrent theme of the tale. I don't think we realized it at the time, but our weekly trips to the Santa Barbara Farmers Market just down the street every Saturday laid the groundwork for appreciating homemade, farm-to-table cuisine before the phrase became a mandatory mention by every self-respecting chef. Those shopping trips fueled the barbecues we hosted on a regular basis, often on those Saturday nights just hours after the market, but also the ones that preceded our Wednesday poker nights and on random weekday nights with whatever friends and neighbors were around. Our cooking techniques were untrained and unrefined, but the fresh ingredients didn't require much. We frequently bought mussels from the Santa Barbara Channel — in the earlier days, plucked off oil rigs by the defunct company Ecomar, but then as Ecomar employee Bernard Friedman was launching his Santa Barbara Mariculture company. We'd steam them in pots with herbs, butter, garlic, and white wine, perfect for dipping (occasionally pilfered) loaves from Our Daily Bread, or, as one neighbor preferred to do, meticulously grill the mussels one-by-one with buttery sauce drizzled into each shell. Our veggies and fruits were utterly fresh, so the squash and asparagus would only need oil, seasoning, and a flash on the grill. Potatoes, pepper, and onions just needed to be wrapped in foil and tossed on the grill. And since I was particularly fond of a cute stonefruit dealer, I'd constantly buy peaches off of her, though never take that crush any further. Our meat skills were carried over from Isla Vista's keg-lined grilling grounds. I would crush an insane amount of garlic, spice, and peppers into store-bought barbecue and teriyaki sauces, and let tri-tips marinate for days. Then we'd grill them with the fat caps up — most fat caps appear to be removed these days — and stack the sliced, charred meat atop tortillas. (I've been craving one of those oversauced hunks of beef as of late.) Mexican influences were mighty, largely because many of us were raised in California, but also because one of our neighbors was from Guadalajara. He brought artisan tequila and mezcal to what was mostly a post-college beer scene, often featuring homebrews from our kitchen. When his would-be wife arrived a couple years later, she used soya for enchiladas and showed us how to see other culture's cuisines through a Mexican lens. Wine slowly seeped into the scene thanks to the proliferation of tasting rooms in the Santa Ynez Valley. Most of them didn't charge for tastings back then, so we'd frequent them on weekends, because why not get drunk for free when you're in your early twenties? I recall opening the old Lazy Acres mailers on my porch, and seeing Bob Wesley's missives about this bottle and that one, all with intriguing backstories about their people and places. Those scribblings opened my eyes to the reality that wine is more than a beverage, and we can see how that turned out. We eventually got a tiny bit more gourmet, influenced from the meals that we'd somehow pay for at finer establishments, or from when our parents were in town, or from when I started writing more about the Santa Barbara food scene. I recall one day drizzling mango-lime-jalapeno juice on scallops served atop radicchio leaves to impress a date, though the idea was tastier than the bite. Restaurants were a steady part of our menu as well. Just around the corner, Sojourner Café's “Low Rent Special” — soup, salad, roll — was a common choice for just $9, and I'd often buy a scoop of chicken salad and ciabatta from Our Daily Bread across the street, a stomach-filling hack for lunch. I swore by the pork noodle soup and tea smoked chicken at Jimmy's Oriental Gardens , and Restaurant Roy 's full steak dinner was less than $20 back then when we wanted to splurge. The corner spot, which would eventually evolve into Justin and Emma West's game-changing Julienne and is now Rudy's Fresh Mexican , was a revolving door, from Main Squeeze to Dish to Le Bon Café, where we loved the saucy banh mi. When the woman who'd become my wife started working tasting shifts at C'est Cheese when that shop opened, sometimes my dinner was smuggled plates of fine fromage from around the world. These are just a smattering of the memories from off the top of my head while on my Wednesday morning on deadline. More will certainly come, and one day, you'll find them served up on the pages of The Green and Yellow House . Stay tuned. From Our Table Here are some stories you may have missed: George Yatchisin reports on Seven Bar's new location Leslie Dinaberg reports from a barbecue dinner honoring Fess Parker Jamie Knee reports on the toasting of Frank Ositini and Gray Hartley during the Sta. Rita Hills Wine & Fire event. An Edgar Allan Poe drinking party is coming to town. TV chef Steven Raichlen is teaching barbecue at Alisal Ranch.

As the charming Italian osteria Aperitivo prepares to expand from its tiny slot on West Haley to a bigger location on State Street, longtime wine pro Lindsey Reed will be hosting Sunday to Tuesday pop-ups at the original wine bar throughout September. Called “Da Sola,” the evening sipping sessions will be focused on her selection of wines and other beverages, served with simple, salty snacks. “The main point is to create a space that builds a community around ethical and affordable wines, good vibes, and the relaxed European feel,” said Reed, the former GM at Satellite SB and most recently a manager at Bell's in Los Alamos . “I'm focusing on lesser known varietals and regions, and building a place ‘where everyone knows your name'.” The 5 to 8 p.m. pop-ups will serve as a preview of sorts to what will become of the space when the restaurant operation part of the Aperitivo experience shifts to the larger restaurant. The restaurant's owners Brian Dodero and Andrea Girardello are keeping the original location, but the plan is for Reed to run it as a wine bar with a smaller food menu once the move is made. Reed, who also teaches the wine class at UCSB , first worked with the two men a decade ago at the Four Seasons Biltmore. Aperitivo da Sola starts this Sun., Sept. 8, and will run the entire month every Sun.-Tue., 5-8 p.m. at 7 W. Haley St. See aperitivosb.com/dasola