Enchanted at El Encanto

When a chef shows up with a board he insists is "a little bit of where I'm from," you have to be happy to learn his story by tasting away. Such was the case this Saturday when we got to enjoy a delightful dinner at the re-opened Dining Room and Terrace at El Encanto, A Belmond Hotel. Executive Chef Bruno Lopez took over the top toque at the property in November of 2020, obviously not the most auspicious time to do so. So this late spring is sort of his coming out party, assuming the folks coming out have been vaccinated, of course.

That charcuterie board shown above isn't on the menu, but it does capture his soul, sense, and savory simplicity. The meaty star is Bayonne ham, and as a New Jersey born and bred boy, that doesn't led to instantly desirable connotations. Luckily, Chef Lopez's family has Basque roots, and that leads to Bayonne ham, tender and salty and delicious, if pleasingly not as fatty, as Jamon iberico. Keeping with the theme, the cheese is p'tit Basque, the semi-hard sheep's cheese that manages to tease you along with a creamy, salty, nutty flavor that never over-powers so you keep wanting that next bite for more.

The two hints Lopez could surprise, of all things, were accoutrements on the board--those raisins and that honey comb. The latter, which generally I might shy from, not a big fan of sweet with my cheese, was redolent of fennel, and walked a sweet-herbal line that really sang on the raisin bread. And then the raisins--they came as if someone managed to dry a cluster of grapes, a kind of memento mori of the promise of wine. Beautiful, it also elevated the raisins, as they weren't quite as dried as most. 

For our actual off-the-menu appetizer order, we got the spicy yellowfin tuna tartar. See above, on the black wide bowl that sits it off so well. Lopez likes draping edible flowers over dishes for effect, and it certainly works here, adding color palette to the flavor palate. The see-through thin taro root chips are great vehicles on which to devour this dish that ranges beyond a mere sushi-esque exercise, especially given the soy sauce vinaigrette also gets a surprising double-down of umami from some smoked truffle, and then the lime, daikon, and chilies do all the expanding flavor work you would expect. Clean tasty, and the fish remained the star.

For my main I thoroughly enjoyed the seemingly too-medium rare but someone knew better than I did Maple Farms duck breast. So crispy the rendered skin, so tender the meat. Served in a seriously amped up jus, the plating also delivered, with roasted figs, frisee bringing some crunch and bitter, especially in a perfectly simple vinaigrette. And then homemade Kennebec potato chips. I like chips.

Chryss had the kombu Portobello ramen--yep, a veggie ramen with what she joked was at least three whole portobellos (that's not counting the ones that made the intensely rich broth). It offered red cabbage, ramen noodles, scallions, sesame seeds, wakame, and a really warm bowl on a still slightly chilly April night on the Terrace. (There are heaters. And you can get a blanket if you need one, too.)

There's also one side on our table, the artichokes "southern France style," which evidently means a kind of fricassee with chopped up artichoke hearts, very tender, along with carrots and capers and lots of oil and probably a good shot of lemon juice. Better with the duck than the ramen, of course (sorry, Chryss).

We had no room for dessert, but wished we did have second stomachs to nibble at either Goleta lemon--lemon curd, pistachios, white chocolate, and yuzu mousse--or tres leches chocolate tacos, and all I ask is that you go back and read those four words again.

Is the wine list somewhat over-priced? Well, is this a luxury hotel?

But that's why you come here, for luxury, extravagance, and a simplicity of conception and execution only time and money provide. Plus, that Terrace--what a wonderful aerie above our town, making Santa Barbara (at least before things dry out through the summer) shimmer with green and then ocean blue as far as the eye can see. Our night the moon rose to our left as the sun set to our right. It was as if the whole solar system was willing to offer a show. Hard to beat that. Especially with a meal so satisfying.

Amen to Ramen

That's ramen, lit poorly, and that will be the last negative word you're going to hear. For what Weston Richards is doing at Les Marchands is a total delight. Every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night you can order up a bowl, and with it winter (with rain and everything!), what more could you want on a crisp December evening? This is the pork version, decidedly upscale and not what you slurped to save all your cash for drinking back in college. For instance, that's a 53 degree egg (and is their menu wrong or does Richards do his 10 degrees cooler than the temp sous viders seem to generally use? hmmm), looking like it's still in its brown shell but perfectly cooked with a yolk that's just runny, adding more viscous deliciousness to the broth. And then why use bok choy when you can use Brussel sprouts? They've got better flavor for a cabbagy cousin and then roast well too (at least the ones in the soup seem to have bee roasted first).

The two big pork belly strips are cooked to perfection even though they're awash in soup; there's no sense they've been soaking--you'd order them as a dish on their own, fatty, of course--it is pork belly after all--but not just fat. You'll wish there was more. Luckily the broth packs tons of pork flavor, too, and has got a surprising zing to it that might be the only issue with the fine Tatomer Gruner pairing Les Marchands is suggesting for the dish. Why not a wine with a hint of dry apples to go with your pork.

I've left the noodles for last not because they're an afterthought, but because they're delightful. There's nothing like a pasta-type product that still feels alive, with a pleasing chewy sproing to them that might make you a sloppy eater, but you won't care. (OK, this might not be the best first date dish.) They're called alkaline noodles, thanks to the sodium bicarbonate in them, along with flour and water (yep, they're eggless). Richards is appropriately proud of them.

One more good thing--there's a veggie version, too. Unlike one place in town that's very very good but can't seem to make a veggie option soup, Richards makes one with butternut squash, curried coconut milk, shiitake mushrooms, and toasted nori, the milk making the broth almost closer to a sauce than a broth. But you won't care, or at least my wife didn't.

So of course, the place to get noodles is a wine bar.