Marisella Is Molto Bella

It's not easy being a resort restaurant. Hotel guests can resent you as they feel Stockholm syndromed into loving you as you're the only game in town. Locals, ever on the lookout for snoot to bemoan, can feel excluded, starting with the valet parking fee. There's a lot to overcome to please both your possible audiences.

Maple Hospitality Group, out of Chicago, is the latest entity trying to crack this difficult nut at the Ritz-Carlton Bacara in the location most recently occupied by Angel Oak. It opens Marisella (star of the sea) to the public June 26th, but this weekend held a swank reception for some press (me!), people who probably call themselves influencers unironically, friends and family, and a heaping helping of rich folks. But I shouldn't be disdainful, as it was all lovely--I mean look up top, they are ice-luging shots and offering you a lot of oysters, shrimp, and uni backed by the Bacara's best quality--a killer ocean view. Of course one has to be wowed a bit.

And get a load of all that gorgeous whiskey behind the bar. They seemed to know what to do with it, too, offering some tasty bespoke cocktails and not flinching in the slightest when Chryss asked for mocktails. She was able to have two completely different ones, even, after the bartender asked about likes/dislikes. I left out photos of the folks pouring wines from the site's 700 plus label cellar, but they certainly knew their stuff and were kind, engaging, and talented at sabering champagne bottles. Plus willing to share one-offs from the cellar they wouldn't be able to put on the list, including a 2011 Arnot-Roberts Syrah.

The man above is the mastermind behind Maple Hospitality Group--the talented and engaging Danny Grant. While I will go on about the food we got to taste, you don't have to trust just me--he happens to be the youngest chef ever to win two Michelin stars in back-to-back years. Now his culinary empire extends to Scottsdale, Dallas, Miami, and...Goleta. (I kid, I kid.) One clever redo in the dining room, that overall seems lightened to rid it of steak-houseiness and make it be more Amalfi Coast-y, as the press release suggests, was to make the enlarged kitchen viewable from the dining room. That also means the kitchen can view the diners, and out past them to the Pacific. That's one lovely way to keep a kitchen crew happy.

That's beef that melts in your mouth, if you wondered. Simple, direct, beautiful. Not pictured, as it isn't the most Instagrammable dish in the world (so I give Grant even more kudos for still serving it--sorry, influencers!), is a salt-baked whole branzino, that flakes into moist not mushy delight, far from over salted, and then bathed in a simple, simply perfect brown butter, caper, lemon sauce. This kitchen has the ability to make foods taste like amped up versions themselves, the beefest beef, the fishiest fish (in a good way--I can see how that one doesn't work quite well). Soon a line formed so everyone could get in on the carving station, which eventually added some slow roasted bone-in short rib, again exactly what you hope it could be, but better. The same was true for the passed foods, especially a light, crispy fritto misto. Note that on the opening menu online, Marisella, in addition to apps and in-house pasta and entrees, is hoping to convince people to buy big for the table--that branzino, say, or a 40 oz. bistecca alla Fiorentina, or a Festa Del Mar of roasted lobster, prawns, Pacific clams, Calabrian chile, and tomato sugo. They hope you've come to party.

Maple Hospitality also brought out its big guns to make sure those working at Marisella are fully trained. That is, the top pastry chef was in town, and you could relish her skills in a wide variety of dessert bites, from petite chocolate cake to peaches & cream profiterole. 

From this first impression, if Marisella isn't a smashing success as a resort restaurant, the failure will turn out to be ours for not supporting them.

WOPN 2025: New Finds

Creature of habit that I am, I'm going to discuss the 2025 World of Pinot Noir Grand Tastings, held Friday, February 28 and Saturday, March 1, using the loose rubric I've leaned on the past few years: New Finds and Old Friends. So here's to the new stuff--at least to me. (Most of these wineries have been around for decades, so all apologies for me not knowing y'all before.) One of the new WOPN things was the above photo--fish eggs for everyone! The bubbles room, aka the Bacara's lower level rotunda, offered briny bubbles of delight too on Saturday. I wholeheartedly approve of this addition. Thanks, The Caviar Co., for providing the scrumptious product. Plus I'm proud I not only remembered to snap a photo (this, as ever, is one of my regrets, not getting enough pictures), but this one turned out kind of cool. I credit the caviar for classingy up the joint.

Speaking of classy, one of the volunteers who made sure only those with VIP wristbands got into the VIP lounge tipped me off to the above pour happening at the Ramey table. Wine Spectator has hailed founder David Ramey as "Professor Chardonnay," so the opportunity to taste a 2012, in large format--sign me up. The wine was noted for its soul on its release, and that's even more so now--it made you feel a bit holy drinking it. Honeyed notes of Meyer lemon, a suggestion of ginger, saline, minerality, such depth. Platt Vineyard is a mere four miles from the Pacific--you look down onto Bodega Bay and can spy the schoolhouse famous from Hitchcock's The Birds. Even better, starlings take over the vineyard to the point the prized grapes grow under nettings. Alas, Platt recently got bought by AXA Millésimes, a French interest that also owns Bordeaux's Château Pichon Baron, Domaine de l'Arlot in Burgundy, and Portugal's Quinta do Noval, so yep, they only play with the best. And will keep that best all to themselves. Merde. But in the meantime, there was this as a testament. Also worth noting, the 2022 Estate Pinot Ramey poured, the first vintage from their own vineyard, Westside Farms, was also a winner, a refined, coastal version of the varietal with a gorgeous perfume leaning into roses all into your noses (so much for the joint getting classed up, sorry).

Now that we're done with putting on airs, let's go to the Wine Australia table. This transition isn't as mean as it seems--we're going to get to some unfortunate folks exiled from England to Oz in a bit. I tasted a dozen wine at the table, not even close to all the ones they were pouring, but here are a few highlights. Fowles' wins a prize simply for having a wine called Ladies Who Shoot Their Lunch. From the Strathbogie Ranges in Victoria, the pourer told a complicated story about why the wine is labeled Wild Ferment--the youngest children doing foot-stomping was at the heart of it. I swear I'm not making any of this up. It's a good representative of the lighter style of Pinot coming from Australia, where things are a bit cooler, of course. (And nothing like the brawny Shirazes one might know from the Barossa.) 

Indeed, what intrigued me the most at the table were wines from Tasmania. The rep joked, "South from Tasmania you've got nothing until Antartica, well, except for some insignificant island down there, I think they call it New Zealand." (Good ANZUS burn!) Everything here is cool climate, and the mountains up the center of Tasmania create a rain shadow effect for the eastern part of the island. So you can get a Pinot like the 2022 from Handpicked in the Tamar Valley, lithe and lovely, rhubarb and strawberry, a hint of white pepper. Or one that was even bigger, the Tolpuddle 2023. I can't beat what reviewer Andrew Caillard enthusiastically wrote: "Lovely pure dark cherry, Negroni, herb garden, star anise aromas with hints of marzipan. Sweet supple dark cherry pastille, strawberry fruits, loose knit lacy/al dente textures, lovely mid palate volume and underlying marzipan roasted chestnut/herb garden notes." BTW, this winery/vineyard is named after the Tolpuddle Martyrs, early unionist who got banished from England for their labor-loving efforts. (How this group didn't get name-checked by the Mekons in "The Olde Trip to Jerusalem" I don't know.) 

And then, it turns out, those long, slow growing conditions also make for a great location for sparkling. Of the few I sampled, I particularly loved the 2011 Brut from Henskens Rankin (a name that sounds like they made Saturday morning cartoons, no?), who, on the back of their bottles write, "We make our wine on an island, a rock at the end of the world." Seventy percent Chardonnay, 30% Pinot, that Pinot gives it a bit more heft and length. It sat six years on lees, and you can tell. So much bready goodness, creaminess, and richness of fruit. Not cheap, over $100 in the U.S., but worth it for a splurge.

Almost as unusual as Tasmania for a spot for great Pinot, Paso Robles. So that photo (from his IG feed and not at the Bacara, of course) is John Lemstra from Jack Creek Cellars. I got to dominate my time at his table because, he sadly only half-joked, "People see we're from Paso and just keep walking." They don't know what they're missing. Lemstra and his family brought the property in 2017, but its first vintage was 2002. Every wine is estate. And there's quite a lineup--a sparkling, Chardonnays, a rosé, Grenache, Syrah, even a crisp and quenching white Pinot Noir Lemstra decided to make after tasting one from Oregon at a previous WOPN. (See the influence this event has?) As for the Pinots, of which they are several, too--they make a small amount of a lot of wines--the Paso heat, even in Templeton, is enough to give them lots of fruit and less of a mushroom character. What's more, almost all bottling consist of solely clone 943, a Dijon clone of which there is little in the U.S., due to its small berries and low yields. So Lemstra surely loves a challenge. His Pinot fights against the natural soft and floral quality of the clone, creating fascinating tension. That's experienced nowhere better than in their top-of-the-line Exodus, named since they "escaped" a previous life in the dairy farming business. Aged in 50% new French oak and in barrel for 15 months, the tannins you might expect get fully rounded by the fruit's natural plushness. A lovely big wine. If you don't know Jack (Creek), you should.

Here's another IG photo steal (note to self: take more photos next year!), of Sheree and Brian Thornsberry (and bonus dog, always a plus) of Innumero Wines in Sonoma. I met Brian over canapés at the Thursday Opening Night party, so was sure to track his table down and did not regret sampling his single vineyard, single clone wines. Innumero (from the Latin meaning beyond numbers--sounds like the best wine experiences to me) sources from topnotch Sonoma vineyards. So you can delight in a picture perfect representation of Green Valley Chardonnay like the 2023 Bootlegger's Hill Vineyard bottling that earned them a double gold medal from the SF Chronicle Wine Competition. Their tasting description nails it: "Aromas of honeyed white peach, tarte tatin, honeysuckle, toasted hazelnuts, lemon curd and lemon zest. The palate is so beautiful and round with bright acidity and notes of lemon curd and satsuma orange zest all the way through." Was also taken by the 2022 Little Boot Pinot Noir. Small yields led this Russian River Valley beauty to be a bit more concentrated, but still well-balanced. Yum. Innumero is also taking it slow, currently producing 1000 cases they hope to grow to 1500. All DTC, Brian insisted they prefer to operate from a sales deficit model. So if you want some, go get on that list. 

Keeping up in Sonoma, I thoroughly enjoyed the wines at Papapietro-Perry. Two couples started making wine in their basements in 1998 and after some help from legend Burt Williams of Williams Selyem along the way, they've ended up making truly distinctive, of-their-terroir Pinots. I was particularly taken with their 2022 Pommard Clones PN that comes from Bucher Vineyards, and Peters Vineyard the Leras Family Vineyards (they bottle Pinots from both of the last two, too). My note reads, "I can't get my nose into the glass enough," that's how entranced I was by the bouquet, the usual Pinot dark cherry, but so much more--plum compote, baking spice, wild flowers. It's as rich and rewarding on the palate, adding rhubarb and black tea and more. Ridiculously robust yet it only clocks at 13.7% ABV. Impressive, unique juice.

OK, you probably came to George Eats for at most a 750 ml taste of WOPN and I've plunked a Rehoboam of words upon you. I guess Pinot is just a muse to me. I do want to offer a few more New Find quick hits, , listed in alpha-order, though:

CRŪ Winery: This Central Coast winery that crafts wine from Santa Maria Valley to the Santa Cruz Mountains poured their first vintage of a stunning 2021 Regan Vineyard PN. It's the vineyard where their winemaker Jose Reyes began, and he clearly has an affinity for it. Plenty of big fruit, but also a dreamy undercurrent of herbs and spice and earth.

Nysa Vineyard: Nysa is where Dionysius was raised, so good name, Dundee Hills, OR folks! Until 2004 they sold their fruit to the likes of Tori Mor and Ancien, but now do their own sophisticated wines--my note cryptically claims, "It makes me feel smarter!" I particularly enjoyed the 2017 Leda's Reserve PN. 

Résonance: Simply put, Maison Louis Jadot in America, specifically Willamette Valley, OR. Sourcing grapes from their own estate vineyards, Résonance and Découverte, and others, their 2022 Willamette Valley PN seemed a bit less Oregon-typical (less earthy-mushroomy), but tasted blind I might pick it as a fine Sta. Rita Hills Pinot, and that's high praise from this homeboy.

Coming up next, Old Friends--WOPN 25.

Why Not a Pinot Party?

Twenty-five years is as fine a reason for celebration as any, so that's certainly what happened at Thursday, February 27th's Opening Night Party for World of Pinot Noir. Of course anything feels luxe happening at the Ritz-Carlton Bacara, a hotel that's sort of its own grand Pacific-side world. (Just the collection of the cars you'll never come close to driving parked in the central plaza as you enter tells you that.) But WOPN did its best to spiff up, putting on its metaphorical white tie and tails for the evening. Even the step-and-repeat was attractively classy. (Notice I didn't ruin that effect my getting picture taken in front of it.)

After having your ticket scanned and and your armband affixed (note, they use the clip ones, not the sticky ones--my wrist hairs, unpulled, say thank you), you were ushered into what would turn out to be the sparkling station/room for the whole weekend, and pours of Seppi were handed you. There are worse ways to kick off an evening with wines made in honor of Joseph "Giuseppe" Phelps. Heading out that door, servers offered mini-Wellingtons you could dip into rosemary aioli. Somehow this golfball-sized gourmet delight worked--the flaky crust stayed on, you could eat it three bites tops. You'd been at the event four minutes, and you felt at the least fancy, if not half way to schmancy. 

I'm going to make this look like all I did was eat, but: 1) remember my rules about ballast at drinking events, and 2) food photographs better than wine bottles, if you ask me. So that's mezzi rigatoni pomodoro, the pasta exactly al dente, the sauce essential tomato yet kicked up with gunciale and a hit of Grana Padano. What's more, spiced sausage offered that great fat, with its own heat cutting the fat too, and then the lovely, light cloud-like tufts of whipped garlic ricotta. I fought the urge for seconds and the second didn't win.

This shrimp cocktail positively glowed. (Sorry.) But I was a real sucker for the lighting from under the ice trick. The shrimp were cooked precisely, but that trick of locking them both into each other and into the serving spoon made it hard to unhook them, in a weird way, and I even tried to eat them before I had had much to drink, I promise. 

While it is the World of Pinot, it's always heartening to see providers from our very region, and you can't get one much closer to Bacara than the Cultured Abalone, who not only brought their delicious mollusks but also had a rep on site to tell you about their terrific farm. The presentation of the seared abalone was a straightforward sear in garlic sea salt butter, then hit with herbs and citrus, but these wonders of the sea are so delicious, that's all they need. It was an honor to indulge in them, and to get to nod to what was once a food in great supply on our coast.

OK, yes there was wine. But I've got two more wine-soaked entries to write about WOPN 2025 and its grand tastings, so will go lighter on all that here, if you don't mind. You can see a hint of some of the range of stuff on offer in the photo. I drank from a different bottle of La Follette, a 2022 Heintz, a vineyard that runs deep in lore with Williams Selyem fans. It lived up to my expectations, racy and wild, with good fruit rounded with a bevy of attractive side notes--hillside sage, white pepper, baking spice. I also enjoyed a 2021 Ram's Gate Bush Crispo Vineyard that should be in the dictionary alongside Russian River Valley Pinot. A classic. And other wines we'll get to in future posts.

It was tricky to tell who the crowd was. Certainly a lot of winemakers, but one local who will go unnamed suggested, "Most people stay partying in their rooms and then show up here later and buzzed." I didn't stick around for that, saving myself for two days of grand tastings. Did I mention there would be grand tastings? There was also fine rock n roll from Dan Curcio of Moonshiner Collective, stuck trying to juice us up when there was plenty of juice to drink for that. Maybe you had to hangout until the very end to see if the dance floor got used. I know the step-and-repeat did.

Getting the Most Out of Going Grand at WOPN

Assuming the country isn't fully closed for business in a week (at the rate our fiends in DC are going, it's possible), we get to celebrate the World of Pinot Noir February 27-March 1 at the Ritz-Carlton Bacara. It's even the 25th anniversary for this fest, with, as usual, numerous, worldwide fine purveyors of Burgundian wine there to celebrate.

You can go check out the full schedule of events at the WOPN (yep, pronounced as in a hoppin', WOPN good time) website to see all the seminars--you really do learn stuff as you drink at these, plus folks tend to be funny in either charming or ornery ways (turns out farmers and winemakers are good at both those traits). Then there are lunches and dinners, chances to discover new food and wine pairings, while delighting in some more info and some sparkling tableside repartee. 

But let's face it, the major action happens at the Grand Tastings on Friday and Saturday. See that picture above, that's one of them one of these years. It's a scene, which is part of the fun. The event will be a tad smaller this year than some previous, particularly prior-to-Covid editions--59 producers on Friday, 77 on Saturday--but that just gives you more room to move and an easier job to focus. But not too easy, as each producer generally shares two to four wines. You do the math, but do it before you start tasting anti gets hard.

So you still need a plan. I've tried to do the tip thing in previous years, but here's my most comprehensive stash of ideas:

If you can financially swing it--just ask some baby DOGE bro who has spied on your bank account, he can tell you--do the VIP Grand Tastings, as you get a bonus hour with a much less congested room. Think of it like an old school Disney FastPass, but instead of Space Mountain, you get to hang at the Louis Latour table. 

At least peruse the website to see which wineries will be pouring on the day of your grand tasting. Start deciding who your can't miss Pinots will be. Make one of those the first table you hit--you might even get a chance to chat that way. Don't forget to cheers. (This is a wine event--have some manners.)

No matter when you begin, scan the room before tasting anywhere. Some years it's completely alphabetical, some years regions are clustered together. Find the water table and know where food is. This will help you move more efficiently later.

At best, if you wisely do the sniff-sip-sip-dump tasting method (which I know, hurts, you're pouring out some fine juice, but you don't want to be sloshed an hour in, do you?), you can taste about one wine every 4 minutes (this is based on past experience, promise). You are not going to taste everything. Find whatever is slightly zen in yourself and say that's OK. It might even make what you do taste more precious. (Like life.)

Be strategic. Only drink Pinots from one region, or only drink wines of a single vintage or focus on wines with stem inclusion or only one Pinot clone (as I've written before, there will be so much talk of clones, you'll feel as if you're in a sci-fi movie). 

Be random. Choose based on whether you like the outfits worn by the pourers. Only visit a table when no one else is tasting there (plus then you're sure to get someone to chat a bit). Consult an oracle.  To be honest, having a specific plan or none at all can be just as fun. (Like life.)

Drink water. At the least, a bottle (there will be tables with bottles) an hour, if not more. Don't worry, the bathrooms are very swank at the Bacara.

Eat before arriving--belly ballast helps soak up the wine--but you can snack up at the event, too. All part of the entry fee, after all.

When a place has sparkling--or only has it, and there'll be a few--go for it. Scrubbing bubbles help reset your palate. And given you'll be mostly enjoying Pinot Noir for hours, something to taste beyond cherry/strawberry is very helpful. (And might even be your most memorable sip.) Similarly, if a place will pour you any other varietals, take them. Obviously there'll be some Chardonnay, but on occasion a Syrah might lurk under the table for someone acting appreciative of a winery's official offerings.

Develop tasting table manners. Don't hog the spot in front of a person pouring. Pay attention to other attendees hoping to get their Pinot on, too. Sure, slip to the side if you have a question, or if the pourer is chatty and really wants you to know about their barrel program or their vineyard's limestone composition. Do watch blocking dump buckets, too, not just to be kind, but to avoid a spendy dry cleaning bill afterward.

Take notes. Everyone thinks you're serious, then, so wineries like you better and other WOPN-goers admire your gravitas. Doesn't even matter what you write, although it is good to at least list everything you taste, since the better and longer that list gets, the shorter and poorer your memory will get, too. It's a mathematical proportion, promise. Another bonus of notes--you can laugh later when you try to read them and see how your handwriting deteriorates towards the afternoon's end.

Don't drive yourself home. We're 45 years past the founding of MADD. I don't need to explain this one.

Dressed to the Nines, Wine Auction Crowd Raises Nearly $900K

“All lives have equal value,” said Jessica Gasca, addressing the well-heeled crowd of almost 400 attendees in the ballroom at the Ritz-Carlton Bacara. “But equal in value does not mean equal in opportunity,” continued the owner of Story of Soil wines, speaking in her role as president of the board of directors of the Santa Barbara Vintners Foundation — the charitable umbrella under which the Santa Barbara Vintners Association conducts its philanthropic work. “We can help change those experiences. We can’t stand by as people suffer, not when we have the means to help.”

Those “means” are the biannual Santa Barbara Wine Auction. By the time the November 9 event concluded, $868,000 was raised in support of the Vintners Foundation’s mission, “Grounded in Giving.” Proceeds from the event will provide essential healthcare for medically underserved people through grants to Direct Relief and Community Health Centers of the Central Coast.

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

(photo of Jason Paluska's Channel Islands crudo)

WOPN 2024's Seriously Sapient, Sanguine Seminars

So this is my 40th post over the years about World of Pinot Noir, which means two things. 1) It's an incredible weekend of wine and food and fun and excess and Bacara and friends both old and new, and I'd hate to miss it. 2) It's getting harder and harder to come up with a new way to craft a story. Heck, I did one post as a fake Larry King column back in 2020 even before I had any excuse that two turns through the Covid dumbening had softened my cerebral cortex.

Still, more than 200 producers of Pinot Noir. It's a lesson in range of expression, in expression of terroir, in oak's mighty force in aging. It's terms de- and re-associating: for just one example take Old World versus New World, which now means style and not geography (and time in the sense everything old becomes new again). 

It's easy to (try to) focus on just the Grand Tastings, a massive ballroom floor a-crawl with almost too many folks thirsty for Burgundy (and hoping for some surprises under the table, or even up top--sparkling and Chardonnay, and sometimes a smuggled in Grenache or Syrah, yes, a lone Rhone). You sort of can't go wrong beyond trying to do everything. So pick whatever organizational plan you like, whether by location or clone (you will hear so much talk of clones you'll worry you're in a sci-fi movie), or only taste from wineries that start with S and T--that would be 27 stops, and most places at least pour 2 wines. That's an afternoon, easy.

But since you've still got some time to book as the event is February 29-March 2, I'm here to suggest you might want to attend one of the four seminars that happen Friday and Saturday mornings, too. Alas, the "Bubbles and Bites" session is already sold out, as how could you not want to start off your Saturday sparkling, but there are still three other options well worth considering. You sit, you listen, you laugh, you sip. You often get to take part in room polls or get to lob questions at the knowledgeable. So, yes, you will learn and be entertained. How noble.

Friday morning offers the provocatively titled seminar "The New 'Grand Cru' of California." Just think about the inescapable meme, "If your ___ is not from the ___ region of France, it's just sparkling ____" to consider how dogmatic the French are about what kind of wine earns what label. Grand Cru signifies the very very very best growing (cru) sites, i.e. where the best wine should come from. So taking that term and slapping it on California could be fighting words, or at the least, fighting over words. You have to attend to see. As WOPN's site puts it: "Led by David Glancy, Master Sommelier and Founder of the San Francisco Wine School, the seminar will showcase Pinot Noir vineyards from the Santa Maria Valley to Russian River Valley to Anderson Valley, and more. Guests will walk away with a deep understanding of the rich history of farming philosophies, winemaking approaches, and how California vineyards became known for Pinot Noir." 

For a more global perspective, the other Friday morning seminar is "The Legacy Generational Library Tasting--Know Your Winemaker." Moderator Ray Isle, author of the forthcoming book The World in a Wineglass: The Insider's Guide to Artisanal, Sustainable, Extraordinary Wines to Drink Now and the Executive Wine Editor of Food & Wine Magazine, will celebrate the world’s top family-run wineries whose legacy of sustainability and innovation has helped produce some of the most exceptional Pinot Noirs in recent history. And hope to sell some of his books, no doubt. (We can't pretend there isn't a commercial function at these events, can we?) 

Then the still available Saturday event is an opportunity to hone your blind-tasting skills. (I hope yours are stronger than mine from 9:30-11:30 am.) At "Global Wine Conversations: A World of Pinot Noir," (see what they did there?) guests will blind taste 10 wines that epitomize the marquee AVAs from Burgundy, Australia, Oregon, and California. Wine Expert Julia Coney and Master Sommelier Evan Goldstein will let people just like you and me, folks without the slightest of somm degrees, discover what it's like to puzzle through questions of typicity. How does one mentally map the growing regions of the world on one's tongue? Here's your chance to find out.

Santa Barbara Wine Auction Grows into Weekend Affair

 

Though Direct Relief might be the fifth-largest charity in the United States (according to Forbes Magazine), that doesn’t mean the Goleta-based nonprofit never endured lean times. In speaking about next weekend’s Santa Barbara Wine Auction, Direct Relief’s vice president Heather Bennett explained, “[Winemakers] Jim Clendenen and Frank Ostini started this connection between the Santa Barbara Vintners Foundation and what was then Direct Relief International, and they helped us pay the bills when we really needed the support.” 

That was way back in 2000, the year of the first Wine Auction. While the Vintners Foundation’s biennial gala continues to support Direct Relief’s internationally minded efforts two decades later, it now also directly helps the region’s farmworker community by benefiting Community Health Centers (CHC) of the Central Coast.

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

WOPN 2022: Old Friends

Despite the many years I've been fortunate enough to attend the World of Pinot Noir (and is there a more annoying way to start an article?), I've never quite cracked the nut on the best way to cover it. There's just so much, and that's only considering Friday's and Saturday's Grand Tastings events. Over the two days at least 165 wines poured over my palate, so distinctions can get a bit blurry, and I'm not just talking about my handwritten notes.

That said, I decided one way to approach this year is splitting up some highlights into two different stories, this one called Old Friends, and then a later post I will call New Finds. (There might be a third post called Some Foods.) And to prove how hard it is to follow even my own outline, I'm going to begin with an old friend creating new finds--Larry Schaffer and his tercero wines. Those familiar with him know him to be warm, wise, chatty (he named two of his wine blends Verbiage), and an endless experimenter. He makes mainly Rhone varietals, but then there's that quenching Gewürtz he calls Outlier (since no one can pronounce Gewürztraminer), his Aberration red blend he asks you to chill, both a Cinsault and a Mourvèdre rosé.... He's hard to stop.

So, of course, he had to give in, finally, to the clarion call of Santa Barbara County and make some Pinot. And what did he show up with at WOPN? Four! All his 2020 fruit comes from Kessler-Haak and he's made a blend of three clones, each of which you can buy bottled on its own, too. Think of it as a delicious science experiment. As he put it, he thinks in Rhone terms, and compares the blend to a GSM, with the 113 clone playing the Grenache and providing the high notes, the Pommard 4 taking the Syrah role and providing the balance and bulk of fruit, and then the 114 doing its Mourvèdre impression and providing the undertones. At this point I think the blend stands out as it is so balanced, but who knows what time might show--the 114 seemed youngest as a solo bottling, and those who like their Pinots floral should gravitate to the Pommard. But, as always with Larry, it's all good. Especially if you get some of his homemade blue cheese bread with it, as tasters got to do. (Plus, bonus Shelby Sim of Visit the Santa Ynez Valley usie at the table--a good thing, as I'm so bad about taking photos of people.)

Of course if I go on at this length for every wine/winery I hope to write about this post will be longer than a CVS receipt and less valuable (and darn, I do need a two-for-one on toothpaste after all the red wine), so I'll try to speed things up. For example, here's a two-fer, what the pourer at the Hilt table called "The Matt Dees fun zone," since their aisle portion backed right up to the Mail Road position on the next aisle. I have praised Dees many a time and surely will do so again, but geez he's rocking it. At the Hilt has the the home field advantage of getting to play with Radian and Bentrock fruit (more on both in a bit), which means such wildness and bite to the wines in the best of ways. You can't drink the 2019 Hilt Radian--a wine to geek out on--without doing your best Colin Clive imitation and shouting, "It's alive!!"

Meanwhile over at Mail Road they were offering a vertical from 2018 to 2015, which was fascinating as the wine shifted from even to odd years, the former ones more opulent, the latter more Burgundian. Talk about a lesson in vintages, at least at Mt. Carmel Vineyard (we will visit Mt. Carmel again in the New Finds write up). Another lesson, I make a funny face when I silently express my joy in tasing a good wine, at least based on the pourers at this table after I had theirs. When one asked which vintage I preferred, I could only reply, "The last one I have tasted." Power, elegance, grace.

As for Hilt follow ups, I generally spend some time making sure I get to taste as many wines made from Radian and Bentrock as possible (and thank you, Matt and owner Stan Kroenke for still selling some of this fruit--how sad our area would be if everyone clamped down on what they owned like we were some BS place like Napa). Those sites never make anything less than very good wine, but two particular standouts this WOPN were the 2018 Radian from SAMsARA, which pushed the racy Radian experience to a delicious edge thanks with 100% whole cluster and 50% new French oak, and the 2015 Montemar Bentrock--yep, that's their current release of it, and it might have needed all that time as it's still a gnarly monster of Pinot goodness.

Speaking of monsters, I like big format bottles, I cannot lie, and every WOPN Paul Lato is sure to deliver on that front. It's always bit of a zoo at his table, but that 2013 Drum Canyon you see above was worth it, a spectacular expression of Sta. Rita Hills fruit with oodles of spicy notes and a finish longer than this whole blog post. Same for a Brewer-Clifton 2010 Cargasacchi from a bottle nearly as tall as me (I might exaggerate, but only a tad), the kind of pour you just walk around the hall and finish, as it would be a sin to pour it out after it waited for you, just getting better for over a decade. 

Not to be outdone with wines with some age, Gray Hartley as usual was behind the Hitching Post table with two oldie-but-goodies, a 2000 Sanford & Benedict and a 2002 Fiddlestix. The former had some bricking, sure, but still so much life, and then old notes only French Burgundies are supposed to get like graphite and tea. The Fiddlestix was so vibrant you wouldn't guess it was two decades in, and then amidst all the fruit, some mushroomy notes began to bloom on the finish. Such fun wines, and one of the reasons you go to an event like this--to get what you'd never have a shot at otherwise. I mean, he wasn't even hiding these under the table.

Then I want to highlight a few wines that just capture a sense of place, and in one case even a sense of an era. You could almost start a friction-created blaze trying to pass people to get near the Sea Smoke table (get it, where there's smoke there's fire?), and the 2019 Southing struts like the Sta. Rita Hills on steroids, and I say that as someone who loved every one of Barry Bonds' 73 homers in 2001, a pre-pursuit of balance year this lovable lug of a Pinot also reminded me of. Foxen rocked, as usual, but this WOPN I was most taken by their Santa Maria Valley bottling, in particular the 2017 Block 8 Bien Nacido. That's BN's highest elevation, so maybe that helps make it so wonderfully aromatic I was practically content just sniffing it, but after tasting it wrote "people don't know what cherry in Pinot Noir is if they haven't tasted this wine." 

Continuing north through California up Edna Valley way there's the 2018 Stephen Ross Stone Corral Vineyard, a site Ross shares with the alas not at the event Kynsi. Kettmann in the Wine Enthusiast put it this way, "Dark-cherry and black-raspberry aromas meet with loads of crushed slate and dried loam as well as hibiscus and rosewater on the dynamic nose of this bottling. The palate is also very rocky and mineral-driven, while showing darker plum and purple-flower flavors." That works. The mineral-driven nature really woke up my palate on a long Saturday afternoon.

To almost end, let's consider something northy north in California, one of my favorite vineyards, Savoy in Anderson Valley. Now owned by FEL, I've been going there since it was Breggo many moons ago, and it still makes one of the most elegant and haunting of Pinots. It's as if you can sense the nearby redwoods lurking in each bottle.

All that said, I'd be remiss not to mention two of the better out from under the table moments. Despite Chardonnay being Pinot's Burgundian brother (or is that sister? does it depend upon the wine?), and despite almost all of the wineries present making both, it's kind of considered bad form to play up your Chardonnays. Some place just went and poured them, and more power to them. Some hid theirs away. For example, Liquid Farm offered me a 2015 Golden Slope Chardonnay and lord knows it deserves its tip-of-the-cap name to the Cote d’Or, so creamy and luscious (it almost recalled one of my favorite SBC whites, Stolpman's L'Avion Roussanne, somehow).

In a complete different, equally pleasing way, Greg Brewer had his latest just-to-be-released 2021 Diatom Chardonnay hidden away. As Brewer puts it on his website, "Diatom is motivated by the pursuit of subtraction and refinement," which makes it a vision of purity. Alas, at that point in the tasting, close to close at 6 pm, I managed to make this brilliant observation as he drew the bottle out and said it was his new release, "You mean a 2022?"

Uh, no, this year's wines aren't released yet, as they are still sleeping in baby buds, dummy. I do want to give myself a bit of a break, though--what with no in-person WOPN last year, and the excitement of getting to see so many great wine friends again this year, it's tough to know what time it is.

Rockin' WOPN Eve

Somehow this is my 32nd blog post about the annual spectacular the World of Pinot Noir, which kicks off its 20th anniversary edition tomorrow with a few special events, one of which I'll be writing about tomorrow night after I attend it (think barbecue and pinot and the SYV). Recently I talked to one winemaker who in one way reasonably pooh-poohed the whole shebang, at least the Grand Tastings, by saying, "Everybody makes good wine now. It all tastes more the same than it doesn't."

"OK, the error bars aren't wide," I said. And later I realized I sohuld have said, "Wait, not OK! Goddam, the error bars aren't wide!" That is, we live in a golden age of deliciousness, so let's lap it up while we can (or until the Coronavirus wipes out any and all events where more than five of us gather in wine's name).

So let's think about how to celebrate, and if anything deserves celebration it's pinot noir (well, there's one more reason). It's easy to focus just on Friday's and Saturday's Grand Tastings at the Ritz-Carlton Bacara, as they are billed quite appropriately--100 producers on Friday, 120 on Saturday, most with more than one wine, some with things not even pinot (roses! whites! hard cider!!). I've discussed in previous years the best ways to approach a room that might as well have signs warning "Beware! FOMO Ahead!" at all the entrances. Since you can't do it all, drink water, eat some of the food, chat with pourers--many of whom are the winemakers themselves--make a plan for how to get something coherent out of it (chose a region or style ["Do you have anything with stem-inclusion?"] or only drink one vintage). OR approach it in a magical way and let a dice throw or runes or the alphabet guide you.

My guess is any way will be an interesting informative way. Drink deep, enjoy, take some notes. If only to see later how your handwriting deteriorates during an afternoon of drinking.

But you could skip the Grand Tastings, even. (Horrors!) Instead only go to a seminar or two and sit down and learn something. Just on Friday you could attend "What's Altitude Got to Do with It?" or "Siduri: 25 Years of Cruising the Pacific Coastline." How does the elevation of a vineyard affect what winds up in the bottle? How much of Adam Lee's incredible knowledge garnered over decades of winemaking can he share in one sitting? You could learn these things. And some of that you'll do through your mouth as you will have a guided tasting. That's just two of Friday's events.

Or you could just eat and have some wine with that. Let's look at Saturday, this time (note, this is far from covering everything about to happen, as you don't have the time for that). One dinner celebrates Bollinger Champagne and Calvisius Caviar, so if you ever wondered what the whole bubbles and fancy fish eggs fuss was about, and have a spare $350 (that's part of the fuss, surely), this dinner is for you. Or you could attend the 20th Anniversary Soiree Dinner, that's described as "an evening of epicurean delights, wine and dancing as you mingle amongst the legends of Pinot Noir and meet the rising stars." Two words: paella station. And more wine than you can shake your empty mussel shells at. 

The Wild Wide World of WOPN

It's that most wonderful time of year, when the World of Pinot Noir, happily shortened to WOPN (it's fun to say--do it aloud!), sets up in Santa Barbara at the Bacara this Friday and Saturday, March 1 and 2. Here's how they sell themselves: "The annual World of Pinot Noir event gathers the planet’s foremost Pinot Noir wineries and winemakers, renowned chefs, sommeliers and leading wine scholars in a weekend-long seaside celebration of this delicious and storied wine."

I was really hoping someone might pour some pinot from Jupiter this year, but in the meantime, the numerous Earth-made wines available at Friday's and Saturday's Grand Tastings will have to do, I guess. It's 100 producers Friday, 120 Saturday, almost all with multiple wines, sometimes even some not pinot-centric ("What is lurking under your table, dear pourer?" you may learn to ask). It's easy to end up feeling you pinot no more than you did when you started if you don't pace yourself. (And hydrate. And eat the food--there's always food. And bid on silent auction, or at least roam the tables. Or go out and stare at the Pacific and think, "What a lucky f---er I am to be here." The wine will be there when you get back.)

How do you have a good time there? Well, pretty much any way you'd like (but don't be a table hog). Having a plan doesn't hurt. It could be as simple as: only go to the table where no drinker is standing. You still won't go wrong. Or you could consider the two questions I suggested a few years back: 1) wide or deep? 2) what you know or what you don't know?

But there are all kinds of ways to dice up a pinot pie. Only try older vintages, for instance, as so many of the winemakers kindly like to share them, mostly as it shows they really know what they are doing (locally, Rick Longoria loves to please this way, for instance). Of course, if you don't taste the most recent vintage side-by-side, you're missing the chance to learn about wine aging and the differences in vintages, but there's only so much learning anyone can retain in an hours long tasting.

Only drink wines from places that begin with a C. Sure, this is totally random, but here's the list (note, some are Friday or Saturday only): Calera, Cambria, Cattleya, Center of Effort, Chalk Hill, Chalone, Chamisal, Chanin, Chanson, Chateau St. Jean, Chenoweth, Cherry Pie, Chicken Dance, CIRQ, Claiborne & Churchill, Clouds Rest, cnagy, Cobb, Colene Clemens, Copain, Cordant, Cristom, Croix, Crossbarn, Cuvaison. And I only made one of those up.

And keep looking to this blog for more about what's happening--I will have reports on the tastings, on the Savoy Vineyard/Anderson Valley seminar and the rosé by the sea lunch, too.

Uni + Pinot = Very Happy Me-o

I was hoping I'd get to write something about a fantastic feast from World of Pinot Noir closer to the feast itself (on Friday, March 2), but perhaps I'm still recovering, lost in the sensory world so much that I don't want to spend too much time in contemplation. True, that might be my usual state, but a dinner like The Art of Japanese Cuisine and Freeman Winery Pinot Noir, with Guest Chef Ken Tominaga, puts the you in voluptuous, if that makes any sense. I did do a write up/interview with Ken Freeman prior to the dinner, so go check that out if you haven't yet for more winery details, but the quick lesson is his wife Akiko Freeman makes wines of grace, poise, depth and acidity, and they cry out for pairing with food.

This evening wasn't just any food, of course, as Chef Tominaga is a star of the Bay Area and Sonoma, and he and the Freemans are friends too, so it's a very simpatico pairing. Since it's been awhile and much of my memory of the evening is a rosy glow of gustatory glory (plus my notes in the darkened dining room at the Spa at the Ritz Carlton Bacara are hard to the read to the point that one scribble I can make out taunts future-me with "you will not be able to read this"), I will focus on two delectable courses, numbers 1 and 4 (of 5 with an unannounced dessert too), both pictured above.

Course the first is Happy Spoon with Golden Osetra Caviar, but it seems a bit misnamed, as it's really Happy Happy Eater Left with Golden Smile. Chef suggested we get it all in one bite, and while it wasn't too big for that, it was a tad sad to see it all gone in a minute of mouthful, the oyster and uni and caviar and sauce all and everything of the briny sea, as if you'd cleared out the pantry of Davy Jones' Locker (ignore all the shipwreck imagery, though). You did get to wash it down with the 2016 Freeman Ryo-fu Chardonnay, mostly sourced from stellar Sonoma Vineyards Keefer and Heintz Ranches, so it is a Happy Glass of elegant juice, some more tropical notes yet underlined with citrus and apple fruit, and, as with most Freeman wines, a finish that could match the power of the urchin you ate with it.

Course the fourth is Uni and Hokkaido Scallop Risotto with chive blossoms and shiso, so yes, Chef likes his urchin and you better too. Somehow this kept from becoming an umami atom bomb that blew your taste buds into submission--it kept revealing itself gradual, almost a bit coy, as long as you nibbled a bit at the uni tongue atop the plating and didn't gulp it at once. The rice was perfectly cooked (always a bit tricky for serving a room at once, even if just about 35 dinners tops), and those scallops had just the sear you want, just the give, and more taste than you might ever ask for. That got paired with a 2011 Freeman RRV Pinot Noir from a vintage about which Akiko joked "it was the summer that never came." Now, you might think that's a worry in an already cool climate region, but perhaps it just gave the vines more time to work and think, probably about how someday their fruit would have to stand up and deliver next to such a ridiculously good plate of food. They did. The Freeman website describes the wine well, noting its "alluring deep ruby color, with a ripe nose of blackberry, toast...a racy entry that erupts into flavors of wild berry, olive and smoked meats. The large-framed palate, and long, fruity finish...." Well, sometimes what sounds like pr puffery is merely apt description. And at a grand dinner like this one, it's hard for any write-up to not sound like fantasy.

The Wild, Wide World of WOPN

Illustrating a story about a 2018 World of Pinot Noir Grand Tasting (that's their adjective, and it isn't just puffery with more than 150 producers usually pouring at least two wines each...see, it takes a grand amount of even parenthetical words to describe the grandiosity) with a single bottle of wine might seem perverse, but in this case I promise it isn't. There's my first taste of a very long day (this will actually be two blog posts, it's that long a day into night) last Friday at the Ritz-Carlton Bacara, and I choose it specifically because its winemaker was sitting next to me. That would be Karen Steinwachs, who people probably know better from Buttonwood, but then she's got this even smaller designer label to make pinot and chardonnay, and she just happens to be on WOPN's Board of Directors, too. That mostly means she does a lot of work and can talk to the press and say clever things (very much so--she's one of our wittier winemakers).

Turns out the media room makes you very glad you're media; call me fake news all you want, I'll just be over here pouring myself another sample of delicious pinot. Like Seagrape's 2015 Jump Up, a perfect expression of the magic of the Sta. Rita Hills--both light on the balls of its feet and a bit ballsy, too--think Gene Kelly jammed into a bottle. Sure there's cherry, spice, pomegranate, but it's how every tasty bit adds up to a greater whole that makes the wine so lovely.

And that's the best way to think about the somewhat daunting event. You enter into Bacara ballrooms that look as big as a football field, and while some of that is tables of food and cheese and lots of Fiji water (hello plastic, goodbye sustainability), most of it is producers pouring wines and stories. You might walk in just as Santa Barbara legend Richard Sanford walks in, and you feel all historical--he spotted greatness here (well, not at the Bacara--you know what I mean) before nearly anyone. So you go drink at the Alma Rosa table, and he tells you "It's fun again, George," as he's the kind of man who remembers your name and uses it, and times better be jolly as the wines are joyous, especially the 2015 Barrel Select he shares that's blueberry, blackberry, violet, but more than anything, delicate.

But there's so much to taste there's no good way to list all my notes, not even the highlights, like Greg Brewer pouring a 2007 Ampelos Vineyard pinot (yum!) as he discusses the 10-20 year out sweet spot he believes our local pinots find, using a metaphor of flowers that when you get them they aren't quite open and full yet, and then dead the very next day, no, he sees Brewer-Clifton wines opening and opening, growing into their beautiful bloom.

And, of course, WOPN's not just local wines, because why buy the cow when the SYV's a car-ride away? (I think I mixed a bad metaphor there.) No, you can try a producer like Nimrod from Hungary, where the volcanic soil leads to a more minerally wine, and perhaps a better cuvee with only 20% pinot, but mostly built on kekfrankos, and I'm not trying to be wise to say that's just Hungarian for Blaufränkisch, but now you can see how far from just pinot we are, let alone Santa Barbara. 

Of course you've got people like Josh Klapper from Timbre sharing a hard cider (very refreshing, especially amidst all the cherry/berry bursts elsewhere), and tables pouring regions/AVAs for you--Morgen McLaughlin was back in town repping Willamette Valley and their typical Oregon earthy-shroomy notes, for example--and soon you run into people you know, and people you just know as you've met them at another table, and everything is a bright bow of delight. 

That's what a grand tasting can do for you--prove pinot is doing very well and you can do better if you drink enough of it.

Bacara Blast

While Santa Barbara might like to show off, it still puts its fancy pants on one leg at a time. On June 25, those festive, fantastic trousers are going to be at the Bacara as it celebrates the first anniversary of the remake/remodel of its main restaurant Angel Oak with a party called One Under the Sun. Guests will get to feast on special dishes, enjoy drinks from local wineries and breweries, and take in our coastline from a gorgeous site.

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

Pinot, Pi-yes!

Not one for alternative truths from the get go (I just called it BS in those simpler days),  I have to admit I bridle a bit at anything billing itself The World of anything. It's a big place, you know, the world. Pretty hard to encompass. Mighty ambitious of you.

But then there's the World of Pinot Noir, about to hold its 17th annual event at Bacara Resort & Spa March 3 and 4. It might not capture the whole world - there's probably some pinot growing in Slovenia or some place that doesn't make it past Ptuj - but it also gives you a chance to taste more of the world of pinot than you can get in a couple short days. Especially if you're fond of California pinot noir, as that tends to be the majority of pours. (Not to say I haven't had fine ones at previous iteration of the event from places as odd as the Finger Lakes, NY or Austria.)

And while the photo I led with is from one of the seminars a couple of years back, I want to spend this post discussing how best to navigate the two major tastings as opposed to attending the special events, which I'll get to next week. After all, I figure someone with a budding interest and more than a budding wallet (you sort of need one in full bloom, as tasting tickets start at $85), would want to taste up more than sit and learn. But at 100 wineries a day with 2-4 wines open each, you have to be selective or else you'll end up discovering a word 100x stronger than regret.

Decision 1: wide or deep?

Sure, you can just stumble around from table to table without a plan, and you will still have wonderful wines - it's pinot noir, after all. Or, you can opt for a theme. It's probably easiest to focus, to go with a region - hunt out only the Mendocino/Anderson Valley producers, since you like rose-leaning pinot, say - or if you're from Santa Barbara, stick close to home. (Even though you might choose to specialize and taste only Sta. Rita Hills or Santa Maria Valley.) Or maybe do only the roses, as producers at this event often bring their roses of pinot noir as spring is just around the corner, if that corner is wetter than it's been in years. Luckily the WOPN website let's you sort wineries by location, so you can be all set.

Or, go deep, and try some comparison shopping - perhaps a Sta. Rita Hills vs. Santa Maria Valley taste-off. Some wineries can help by having wines from both locations, even.

Decision 2: what you know or what you don't?

It's also good to decide how adventurous you feel. There's nothing wrong that visiting all your old favorites for on Friday, for instance, that could mean Alma Rosa, Brewer Clifton, Dragonette, and that's just the ABCD and we haven't got into SLO County, even. Or, you could only drink wines you've never drunk before, and you will be able to do that, too. Remember, 100 producers a day.

Part of me wanted to make recs, but there are too many good winemakers at this event. Just enjoy! And be sure to eat some food and drink water, too. Hydration today will be less headache tomorrow.

Big Foodie Festival in Little Bacara

If you’re gonna do a food festival, whose spirit would be better to invoke than the woman who made French cuisine safe for American kitchens? It certainly doesn’t hurt that Julia Child covered the Santa Barbara angle, too, so it makes sense that the Bacara teamed up with the Julia Child Foundation to host an annual Food & Wine Weekend, now in its second year. Going down at the resort and beyond April 16-19 are numerous tastings, demos, and a special dinner with actor/winemaker Kurt Russell, who’ll share his GoGi and Hudson Bellamy wines, which he also pours regularly in the Wine Saloon at the 1880 Union Hotel in Los Alamos.

If you want to read the rest then do so at the Indy's site.

Navigating the World of Pinot Noir

While I never feel like Warren Buffet when it comes to dollars, I do feel like him when it comes to the richness of Burgundian varietals every time I attend the World of Pinot Noir, which just held its 15th anniversary at the Bacara Resort & Spa in Santa Barbara. Talk about your wealth of riches -- there are over 200 wines to taste between two days, there's a media room (see that picture above) with the perimeter of the walls lined with bottles, and there are food-focused events (I previewed one about mushrooms and uni a few weeks ago). There's also a seminar featuring the renowned wine writer Jancis Robinson, who has authored so many books, including The Oxford Companion to Wine, that her bio she says she doesn't know the exact number (this fact might be the only thing she doesn't know).

Want to read the rest then do so at KCET's Food Blog.

World of Pinot Noir: Pairings with Mushrooms and Uni

While the annual World of Pinot Noir event might be best known for its two days of grand tastings featuring wines from over 200 producers, it also takes its job exploring the world, not just the taste, of pinot quite seriously. For instance this year's version of the annual event, to be held March 6th and 7th at the Bacara Resort & Spa in Santa Barbara, has scheduled a Foodie Frenzy Seminar Pairing, exploring a classic pinot noir match with mushrooms, along with a push of the spiky envelope -- uni.

Want to read the rest then do so at KCET's Food Blog.

The Spa Is Spot On

The Bacara Resort sort of resembles a village — admittedly a very upscale village — so it’s easy to miss all the dining options that welcome locals, too. The resort recently reopened the Spa Café as a full-service restaurant, and now the pool-view veranda and warming stone interior offer a nice spot to enjoy scrumptious, good-for-you breakfasts and lunches.

Want to read the rest then do so at the Indy's site.

Brunch, Bistro, Bacara

Ever since Ohana Real Estate purchased the Bacara Resort in September 2011, the once-exclusive property has steadily opened its doors to “regular” Santa Barbarans, starting with a lavish open house last October. Now, the Bacara is using its two restaurants to lure locals in: Miro recently kicked off an all-you-can-even-dream-of-eating Sunday brunch, while The Bistro introduced a new chef de cuisine, Johan Denizot.

Want to read the rest then do so at the Indy's site.