Loving Loquita x Raventós

If the world were just, and if I had mad programming skills, this post would auto-generate with a different lead photo every time its code got called for, and even what I wrote would be once again better and new. But you know the state of the world. So let's make do with what we've got.

On September 5th, what we got was glorious, if you were part of the we attending the Loquita wine dinner featuring Spain's Raventós. From the oyster blushing under its pomegranate foam amuse to the dessert of arroz con leche topped with espuma de cava and hiding perfect pieces of peach, every morsel delighted both the eye and the taste buds. (That's four courses between those two, btw.) But to prevent this post from running as long as the leisurely dinner, let's just talk rabbit.

It is sort of rascally up there, let me tell you. That's rabbit two ways, the bulk a pulled-bunny that called to mind carnitas without any of the deeper grill/sear, and then two rounds of loin wrapped in Iberico ham, as if they needed more. Of course, we love gilded lillies for a reason--they are delicious. (OK, that metaphor failed, butI hope you get my drift.) Pea shoots and favas provided earthiness and greeniness and contrast and lift (and a hint of things perhaps even your rabbit once enjoyed). The sauce managed to be punchy without being spicy, one of the ways, for me, to distinguish Spanish food from Mexican (what with the lines of influence and empire ever mucking the world up). Relatively recently appointed executive chef Elier Rodriguez truly proved what he can do. Somehow it was a plate all at once rustic, precise, simple, yet hinting at complexities. 

That's where the wines from Raventós I Blanc / Can Sumoi come in. There's a long long story--parts of it extend to 1497--and there's turmoil and world wars and phylloxera and family fights and untimely deaths. It could easily fuel a fiery telenovela. But now the goal seems to renew its region of Penedés near Barcelona as a site of fine winemaking. That means reviving somewhat (at least to US ears) obscure grapes, and leaning in to organic/biodynamic farming, natural yeasts, hand-picking, etc.

For the rabbit course the pair was a 2023 Rosado "La Rosa" from Can Sumoi that the rep visiting from Spain, Martín, insisted was their iconic wine, made from the beginning. A blend of 60% Sumoll and 40% Xarel-lo--grapes that sound more like characters in a LOTR video game, no?--the wine is sourced from 20-60 year-old vines rooted in poor clay-limestone soil at 600m altitude. So it suffered to be here, which is what tends to make wines kicky and vibrant, like this salmon-tinged gem. For a concern best known for trying to elevate cava, the still wines all showed quite well too. (Not to even begin to suggest that the cava wasn't elegant and quenching.)

How about some quick photos and comments and less verbiage you ask? Sure!

Here's the full lineup of food and wine. Not a false move all evening, and a pleasant build too.

The password was swordfish. As close as a pescatarian will ever get to prosciutto. And hooray for puffed millet!

Martín during one of his moments to let us know what we were drinking.

Heirloom Tutti Frutti tomato carpaccio, late summer in redolent, shockingly thin slices. 

We'll end in the graveyard eventually. (But generally not so satisfied.)

A Review of "The Freaks Came Out to Write: The Definitive History of the Village Voice the Radical Paper that Changed American Culture" by Tricia Romano

 

What an artfully deejayed book Tricia Romano has spun for us, the (mostly) oral history The Freaks Came Out to Write: The Definitive History of The Village Voice, the Radical Paper That Changed American Culture (Public Affairs, 2024). This 571-page doorstop of a volume covers the full history of the Voice, from its founding by Dan Wolf, Ed Fancher, and Norman Mailer in 1955 to its demise in 2018. (The Voice rose back to online life in 2021, with occasional print editions, but you know how zombies are.) To tell the fractious tale, Romano — who wrote about New York nightlife for the paper — weaves together more than 200 interviews, digs up archival material from those already gone, and quotes clips from stories capturing landmark events like Stonewall, the AIDs crisis, and the rise of some nepo-baby scumbag real estate developer who was a jerk in 1979 even before the rest of the world got to (unfortunately) know him.

Care to read the rest then do at the Independent's site.

Santa Barbara Funk Zone Rebranded Bar Nods to Its Namesake

Acme Hospitality, in its quest to bring the best experiences to Santa Barbara, is ever eager to tinker. Take its new revamp of Pearl Social, now with Cocktail Club completing the name. You don’t have to join a club to go, but you will want to, as the space has become more parlor, less standard bar.

The interior changes come courtesy of hotshot L.A. designer Nathan Turner, who says he wanted an early California collected feel. “I started with my ‘Cowboy Toile’ wallpaper, a very traditional print but reimagined with California motifs like cowboys and mountain lions,” he explained. “Then I layered elements like tufted velvets, gilded mirrors, and a dusty pink color palette. The last, most fun part was compiling the gallery wall, filled with paintings depicting our surroundings, and maybe a few Pearl picked up on her travels.” That Pearl is of course beloved Santa Barbara preservationist Pearl Chase, for whom the bar is named. No doubt she’d be charmed by one wall chock-full of hardcovers — who could resist the pull of a stirring narrative and a stirred drink?

Care to read the rest then do at the Independent's site.

Fit to Be Mai-Tai'ed

It's kind of a statement when you feel confident enough to give away your recipe on the back of the cup. But as you can see from the photo above, that's precisely what Bluewater Grill does with its spot-on Captain's Mai Tai. Of course part of that is they want to tout their new product, Catalina Rum Company. The name is a nod to the rum-running days of Prohibition (how easy it is now for us to romanticize that unfortunate era, no?); Bluewater teamed up with R6 Distillery in El Segundo to craft both a dark and a light rum from molasses and cane sugar. While I didn't taste them on their own, they do mix really well, and they clearly are meant to sell, at MSRPs of $34.50 for the dark, $24.50 for the light (750ml bottles).

Note even the conveyance for the Mai Tai isn't a fancy tiki mug but a more working class enameled tin cup, perfect for keeping the drink frosty even on a toastier summer day. (Of course you can buy the cups on their own or with some of the rum--Bluewater didn't build a chain of locations not pleasing its customers.) The straightforward Bluewater Mai Tai wisely includes the dark rum not just as a float but in the mix, so you never get to the spot of the drink where it's all the less vigorous light rum and lime juice. I've had too many a Maui poolside Mai Tai that is wonderful for those first eleven-and-a-half sips, and then the rest seems like something watered down and served to the pirate captain's least favorite matey. You can even write the drink off as a salad, with the fresh chunk of pineapple, the orange, and the cherry awaiting to be devoured.

If you prefer to devour more food, Bluewater's got you covered there too, of course. Try to stop by during Happy Hour, quite a deal for firecracker shrimp "tacos" in lettuce cups (once again, you get to indulge and feel a mite righteous with each salady bite) for 8 bucks or a classic white wine, garlic, lemon, parsley bowl of steamed clams, probably Manila based on their petite yet meaty size, for 12 bucks. You will wish for more bread.

Cheers to Bluewater for continually providing an experience of food and drink that matches their wonderful views at the foot of Stearns Wharf.

Seven Lands a Heavenly New Location

Interior of Seven Bar's new space | Photo: Ingrid Bostrom

When Seven Bar & Kitchen lost their lease in 2022 after 10 years of providing a fun and truly funky destination in the Funk Zone, shutting down that August, owner Michael Gomez, unsurprisingly, wasn’t pleased. Now Seven Bar (the “& Kitchen” is gone, even if food service isn’t) is settled into its new location — the spot once occupied by The Neighborhood on Montecito Street.

“This change wasn’t part of the plan,” Gomez says, “but it’s turned out to be a blessing in disguise.”

Care to read the rest than do at the Independent's site.

Culinary Icon Alice Waters Meets Santa Barbara Elite to Improve How We Eat

 On a lovely late summer afternoon from El Encanto, a Belmond Hotel’s perch on the Riviera, one might assume your focus would be on the enthralling city and seascape below. Instead, on August 19, all eyes looked back toward the fabled hotel, where legend of the slow food movement Alice Waters made her pitch for the Edible Schoolyard Project.

Waters, the force behind Berkeley’s culinary gem Chez Panisse, helped create the farm-to-table movement back in the 1970s. But providing delicious and nutritious dishes to restaurant patrons was merely the beginning of her life’s work. The one time Montessori teacher remains a powerful educator. And as she pointed out to the small if well-heeled crowd at the fundraiser, the Edible Schoolyard Project grew from one school in Oakland to more than 6,500 schools today.

Care to read the rest then do at the Independent's site.

Literary Libations Come to Santa Barbara’s Kingdom by the Sea

 

It’s not every day you get to make jokes about cooping with the creator of an immersive evening of entertainment that’s coming to Santa Barbara September 12-14. Then again, it’s also unusual to discuss the beloved 19th-century writer with someone who has studied him enough to put together a touring show called the “Edgar Allan Poe Speakeasy.” Fortunately, creative director Julia Tirinnanzi can promise that even with four spookily themed cocktails served up in 90 minutes or so, “There’s no cooping allowed.”

(For the 93 percent of the planet that has no idea what that’s referring to, one rumor about Poe’s still-mysterious death is that Baltimore ward workers marched him around from polling location to polling location, changing his outfit and keeping him drunk, causing his demise on election night 1849. This old-time political machine gambit was known as “cooping.”)

Care to read the rest then do at the Independent's site.