Cider and Paella: A Perfect Pairing We Didn’t See Coming

Sometimes when food and drink purveyors team up to hold a joint dinner, it can end up a snooty affair. Especially in these parts, where we seem to need to find ways to say we’ve got money in ever new expressions.

So I was happily surprised to find quite the opposite experience when on a recent evening (November 16) Dom’s Taverna and High Seas Mead joined forces for something simply billed “Paella + Mead: A Night in the Funk Zone.” That colon is mine, and I apologize for the hint of academia it brings to the quite informal proceedings. For this gathering of 30 or so folks jammed into High Seas’ Gray Avenue tasting room was more family picnic than pretentious. Well, if your family has a really talented chef.

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

Dom's Taverna, a Blast of Basque Brilliance

It might have been a four-day-weekend of drenching rain and people just needed to be festively out and about, but my guess is a recent Tuesday evening at Dom's Taverna is already par for the course. It's a space (what was for many years Trattoria Victoria) that's been designed with building a buzz in mind. Forget about a mere open kitchen that you get to peak into via a window; here it's like a thrust stage, catching all eyes on chefly action towards the back of the long room. You also have to walk half the length of the space to get to the host stand, which at first seems odd but then you get it--even before you get to claim your reservation, you're part of the party. And that's what this taverna's atmosphere is after.

Of course, good vibes only get you so far in the restaurant biz. You need to bring the receipts. These start with intriguing cocktails at Dom's Taverna (and I will keep using the full name so as not to confuse it with established fave Little Dom's Seafood in Carp), not the least of which is the New Moon, pictured above. You know you've accomplished something when you get me to order a vodka drink (cause, why is there vodka when liquor can have flavor?), but here's why this one succeeded, even before I got to see how spectacular it looks. They wisely infuse that vodka with horseradish (to a milder effect than I anticipated), then add manzanilla sherry and Lillet Blanc, and maybe some Suze, or at least that's what our very skilled server, who made clear it would be an astringent not sweet drink, suggested. Think a gin-less, more herbal, Vesper. The kicker is that squid ink ice half-sphere playing the role of the moon. Little bits of it fleck off into the golden drink, adding salinity and a dark allure. The drink even comes in a cocktail glass with a divot built in for the cube to rock in. Do note that as you get to the bottom of the drink, you will end up with ink stains on your nose as you savor the last drops. Have your napkin at the ready.

The Basque-inspired menu will entice you with dishes definitely out of the Santa Barbara ordinary (hooray for new cuisines!). Above you see "huerta" on the left and "pintxos" on the right, so think vegetable garden and small, savory snack/appetizer. The huerta is called Tomat, and features fresh market tomatoes (still hanging on into November), tomato confit, a rich yet piquant Marcona-cashew butter, orange zest, olive, and capers. Get a bit of everything and the brightness nearly glows right out of your mouth (I hope you're chewing with your mouth closed so this image is more spectacular than gross). The pintxos (yes, the staple of much of Spain's bar culture--douse the dreariness of your day in vermouth and snack away!) in the case is Ensalada Rusa: “Potato salad” (the quotation marks are theirs), wild bluefin tuna belly conserva, pickles, English peas, and smoked roe. Think of it as a chunky, sea-funky dip. It's suggested you use the the little torpedo-like tapa crackers as mini-ice cream cones to scoop the salad up, but they don't give you quite enough area to do that. So dip first, munch the crunchy cracker second. That works.

Being only two people with as far as we know only two stomachs, we had to skip many an enticing item, including crab rice, squid and beans, and Wagyu steak bites. And when the Dom’s Louis Salad arrived at a nearby table, we instantly knew part of our next visit's order. The jam-packed bowl, above its base of iceberg lettuce, also offered wild bluefin tuna belly, local crab, poached shrimp, piparra, radish, tomato, chive, lemon-espelette vinaigrette, Louis dressing. We were envious lookie-louis. (I hope that joke isn't so bad that it disqualifies me from ever having the dish.)

Fortunately we had the dish above swim on up to our table, and our envy was forgotten. Whole Fish Basquaise featured local catch of Santa Barbara Channel rock fish roasted in the Josper Basque grill that imparts a lovely charcoal smokiness to all it cooks, even a fish as tender and delicate as rock fish. The succulent seafood gets pumped up with garlic crisp, chili, olive oil, and a garum emulsion (a fermented fish sauce that's all the rage now, for very tasty reasons). Our one regret--they don't serve the plate with two straws so you can suck up every last drop of the stunning sauce. The fish is a perfect emblem for what Dom's Taverna is all about--find really good produce and product, local if possible, and do as little intervention as they can. But what Chef Crisp and his crew does do always highlights, elevates, perfects.

They also aren't afraid to push a boundary in a playful way. For above was a preview of what should be a regular menu item by now (or soon?)--Basque cheesecake adorned with caviar. At first thought this seems a strange mix of dairy and the sea, if not just an indulgent flourish. Then the first little salty-sea bomb bursts in your mouth, and the savory edge contrasts so well with the creaminess of the cake. Isn't it a delight to have a bite you've never had and you instantly hope to have again soon?

Come to think of it, that's how we ended up feeling about Dom's Taverna overall. 

An Enchanted Mexican Evening at El Encanto

 

The dish before me is called Arte, topped with a 2×4-inch piece of edible paper printed with a colorful abstract by noted Mexican artist Olga Hernandez. Her work on Saatchi Art goes for tens of thousands of dollars, and I’m going to consume it. Beneath it lies a base of jocoque (think Mexican labneh, made from goat’s milk) and a fine dice of jacube (cactus), watermelon, pecans, and beans.

On the taste buds, it all adds up to, well, art — sweet, salty, savory, silky, surprising. This is just course number two of six at an edition of El Encanto’s Culinary Series, bringing renowned chefs in for special evenings. On October 11, that meant a visit from Rodrigo Rivera-Río of Koli. The dinner saved us a trip to Monterrey, Mexico, but delivered all the glory of his Michelin-starred restaurant. What’s clear: Rebel Hotel Company, the new management since the sale of the resort from Belmond, is doing their best to uphold the storied thoughts we have of a property as well-heeled as El Encanto. It doesn’t hurt that while dining on the veranda you get to watch owls sweep into the nearby trees as the night’s entertainment.

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

A Review of "The Hounding" by Xenobe Purvis

 Xenobe Purvis can write spooky, but then there are all sorts of haunts, aren’t there? Her debut novel The Hounding, set during the 18th-century in Little Nettlebed astride the Thames River—but far away, in distance and in thought, from London—concerns the Mansfield sisters, orphaned, insular, feminine threats, particularly to the small-minded males of the village. The book gives its plot culmination away in its first line (in what reads like a dark version of Johnny Carson’s old Carnac routine): “The girls, the infernal heat, a fresh-dead body.” But the book never surrenders its air of mystery—do the Mansfields have the power to transform into dogs? Then again, its theme is sussing out the line between what’s human and humane. (Note we are piss poor at the latter.)

Care to read the rest then do so at the California Review of Books.

Review also posted at the Santa Barbara Independent on October 31, 2025.

Bar Lou is Bar-Lou-Ti-Ful

One of the most pleasant of struggles is deciding on your culinary adventure for the evening when many a menu's options lure you in. That was the case as we settled into our comfy leather booth and its rich marble table the other evening at Bar Lou, now just a year in at the Coast Village Road, Montecito, Craftsman-cottage location formerly home to Oliver's and prior to that Peabody's. (On the slope side of CVR also gives Bar Lou a charming glimpse of sunset, btw.) Fortunately, there were cocktails to help get us in the mood. As with the food menu, the list is neat--you're in for a curated experience, not an evening at a New Jersey diner. The Petite Amer I choose, looking like an old fashioned in the photo above, is sort of that, but via Mexico and a bartender fond of Amari. It's mezcal, Amaro Montenegro, Cynar, and then an orange zest oleo that adds both sugar and bitter, quite like the two Amari, come to think of it. The mezcal smoke and earthiness from the artichoke in the Cynar lift and ground the drink at once. Simple, and simply lovely. The tall glass is a NA option cheekily called L'innocente: the local favorite Tilden Lacewing, mint, lime, tonic. Bright, fresh, a fine way to awaken the taste buds sans booze for the adventure to begin.

Somehow we pass on tempting items such as the evening's special, a pan roasted king salmon with green lentils, horseradish, crème fraîche, and salmon roe caviar. And the crab cakes with Creole remoulade, which means something since chef Brandon Boudet comes from N'awlins. And the fresh catch--Boudet works with local fisherfolk at both Bar Lou and his other fine spot, Little Dom's Seafood--tonight a vermillion rockfish, served alongside ratatouille. Or the oysters, or uni toast, or the surprising, and therefore tempting, French omelet with chive Boursin cheese and herbs, which, if you're feeling flush, you can goose with 8 grams of Osetra caviar.

But we did choose two ways to start, the first of which is above and begins a bit of a trend--Bar Lou wants to make delicious food even if it isn't easily Instagramable. (Wait, what year is this?) The smoked black cod rillettes in the jar might not visually shine, but as a culinary treat it's a supernova. Creamy, fishy, briny, bright--a hint of vinegar instead of citrus for a different take?--and you get to slather it on a crusty baguette Bar Lou gets from their friends down the street, Bree'osh. (If the spelling bugs you it won't as soon as you get some of their brilliant bread in your mouth.)

The rillettes came off Le Bar Menu, which expands options in enticing ways, from snacks like Creole deviled eggs all the way to another dinner option, the Bar Lou Burger with Comté cheese, tomato, and onion jam. But from the main menu's hors d'oeuvres section, we couldn't resist the trumpet call of the king oyster mushrooms. Expertly grilled to a meaty chewiness, they are perfect on their charcoal-kissed own, but with the zhoug on the bottom, they are beyond perfect (shoot, backed myself into a linguistic corner there). Think of it as Middle Eastern chimichurri, a vivid mash of cilantro, parsley, green chilies, olive oil. You will be very happy you have bread from the rillettes to sop some of it up. You will wish for a spoon to get even more.

My dear wife often opts for a salad, and by ordering Chicories, she got one big enough for a party double our size of two. Gorgeously piled under a snowfall of shredded Manchego, the refreshingly bitter leaves were perfectly balanced with dates, pecans, and a sherry vinaigrette. Balance is the mantra at Bar Lou, and this seasonal salad expressed that skill impeccably. 

Speaking of seasonal, with the evening air cooling faster and the sun setting sooner, it's time for a dish like this one, simply called duck leg confit on the menu. But, as you can see, with its saucy Ayocote blanco beans beneath the bird, it's nodding to cassoulet. I do love a good bean, and this one ends up both firm on the outside and creamy on the inside, a perfect complement to the duck, crispy on the outside and moist on the in. Both are kind of rich, so that toss of bitter greens atop again helps the dish find a balance. 

For dessert we returned--with a vengeance--to the land of what doesn't photograph well. And we didn't care a whit. For these apple ricotta fritters are heavenly, crispy with a cinnamon-sugar crust, and then the cheesy-apple inside ready to go gooey on you. For an elegant lift they come with Calvados-laced whipped cream that you can spoon like butter on each bite.

I feel a bit remiss not mentioning the perfectly professional service. Our server Brandon explained when we needed menu assistance, never rushed us, never scooped instantly in the millisecond one of our plates was empty. Yet we never felt abandoned either. It's a tough line to walk, attentive versus helicoptered, but he knew how to pull that off. Even offered a half pour of the sublime French Grenache I had with the duck, knowing I needed a bit more to drink to finish with the dish.

Bar Lou is surely on top of its game one year in.

Roll ’Em Up, Chow ’Em Down — It’s Burrito Week 2025

It's 2025 Burrito Week at the Independent, so go read about the two that I wrote about and eat a whole lot more. There are nearly 50 to choose from this time! (Can you tell from my write-ups which one of these I liked better?)

Baked with Love: A Mother Lode of Delicious at Mother Dough Bagels

 

Jennifer Gonzalez-Neely comes to her love of bagels honestly. She grew up in New York, and recalls, “Having a bagel was part of my weekly, if not daily, diet.” But that doesn’t mean she won’t give them a twist at Mother Dough Bagels, open for a very successful eight months now in the former Recipes Bakery spot on Santa Barbara Street.

For while she rightfully asserts, “They are New York–inspired, and you will taste the malt, and it will be boiled,” the sourdough (her starter is named Rocky, which her daughter came up with) makes her bagels more Californian. Then there’s one more way Mother Dough distinguishes itself — “I incorporate Asian-inspired flavors close to my heart, as I was born in the Philippines,” she says.

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