Santa Barbara’s Fresh New Catch Is Santa Playa Mariscos

 

Sometimes, all it takes is a love of tacos and a dream. That’s how Jonathan “Yona” Estrada got his start, opening Yona Redz in the 500 block of State Street five months deep into the pandemic. Now, four years later, he’s got a second restaurant — Santa Playa Mariscos — and a new location for both at 1230 State Street.

Hailing the seven blocks as a great move, Estrada claims, “In the 500 block, people would go down for fun and then stop by for food, but here, people gravitate for the food.” Currently, you can order from the classic Yona Redz menu — especially those sloppily delicious birria quesotacos with consommé — or from the new seafood-focused Santa Playa Mariscos menu offering fresh catch straight from the Santa Barbara Fish Market.

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

Azul Elevates Modern Mexican Cuisine in Downtown Santa Barbara

 

(Photo: Anthony Cabrera, Lucha Media LLC)

Given the time it took for Azul Cocina Artesanal & Cantina to launch — it was first announced in November 2022 and didn’t open until a full year later, November 24, 2023 — you might imagine the operations team could be feeling a bit, uh, blue. But when I talked to co-owners Edgar and Maria Estrada, and Executive Chef Manny Diaz and his wife and restaurant GM, Veronica Tovalin-Diaz, nary a negative word was expressed.

“It’s been a learning experience for us,” Edgar Estrada said. “All the community has been so supportive, calling us to see how we’re doing. It’s amazing.” Azul serves modern Mexican cuisine. Read that as all the full flavors you would expect, but crafted from farm-to-table ingredients and prepared with elevated kitchen techniques. That means that at Azul, the mole is served over pan-roasted duck breast, not chicken, and that the chamorro de puerco en chile verde stars Kurobuta braised pork shanks, not some inexpensive Boston butt.

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

Bluewater's Terrific Second Tuesday Tastings

Bluewater Grill has been opened five years now, but it has had to re-think itself constantly thanks to pandemics and the like. The focus has always been on sustainable seafood, though, served in one of Santa Barbara's inimitable locations, on Cabrillo, staring out at Stearns Wharf and the harbor. Heck, it's even got a mock lighthouse tower to draw visitors in. 

That doesn't stop them from instigating a program called Second Tuesday Tastings. For October and National Seafood Month, Bluewater turned to Spain for inspiration (mostly with the wine parings), and offered up this deal: an appetizer of panko artichoke hearts with brava sauce with a glass of Abadía de San Campio Albariño and an entree of chipotle blackened swordfish alongside a pour of Marqués de Riscal Verdejo. The special two-course with wine pairings ran $55 per person, which is quite a deal, especially if you consider that signature swordfish dish goes for $38 on the regular menu. I mean, I usually don't get an app and two glasses of wine for 17 bucks, do you? 

Besides photographing well with some palm trees as a back drop, the Albariño, is a perfect it takes some time for fall to fall on Santa Barbara wine, super-grippy, presenting its lemonsicle flavors with a richer mouthfeel than usual for the varietal without going flabby.

That also made the wine a fine foil to the heaping helping of artichoke, golden brown fried in that panko so it almost looks like mozzarella fingers, but is much lighter inside. Clean, crisp, and crunchy. Brava sauce makes you say bravo on the finish, tomato's hearty essence ringing out and bringing some acid needed to the fry-ness of the artichoke. It's so good, you will no doubt sop up any left over with the old school San Francisco-style sourdough (which arrives at the table warm--nice touch).

The Marqués de Riscal Verdejo comes off as more of a country cousin compared to the sleeker Albariño, greener and grassier and more Sauvignon Blanc-y, as it were. Still, it pairs very well with what a GM insisted is a blackened swordfish with chipotle dirty rice, as opposed to a chipotle blackened swordfish. Distinctions do matter, in numerous ways, starting with the dirty rice that had some warming not burning chile heat, a scattering of black beans, endnote a hint of pork (good news, pescatarians!). The swordfish rub offered a bit of a kick, too, but it doesn't hurt for theme to end with an inner glow, especially if you're sitting outside. (And if you can, snag one of the amazing tables outside the second floor bar, as the view alone is worth it.)

Also note this is a serious plate of food--it's not a precious dollop of rice besides an inch by inch fish cut. And that corn and avocado add just enough Southwest to help the dish soar and sing.

Service was flowing smoothly--pleasant, attentive, unrushed. It was a new GM's first day, so if you go in be sure to welcome Annia Bonifaz, who is happy to be back at the Santa Barbara location (Bluewater is everywhere, from Catalina to Phoenix). 

Even better, since they didn't feel they got the word out fully about this month's Second Tuesday Tasting, they're going to repeat it next Tuesday, October 17. 

Santa Barbara Should Be Primed for Rare Society

 

Poets have the old line that the sonnet is a form that only allows for perfection. In the restaurant biz, the same might be true for the steakhouse. It’s a tight and classic genre expressed in not just impeccably seared steaks but also in all the accouterments: alpine-cold martinis, busting with butter and tarragon Béarnaise, and as much cream — that is, all the cream — you can get into every vegetable side.

Rare Society comes to Funk Zone–adjacent State Street ready to show Santa Barbara what San Diego already knows: Chef Brad Wise has a burgeoning beef empire on his hands. Wise and his team appreciate all the steakhouse “rules,” while pushing at the lines just enough to deliver a spectacular experience of muchness, at a slightly less than equally extravagant price point.

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

The Stars Align at Maui's Huihui

Too often in the restaurant world, when you get a view like the one that kicks off this post, that's pretty much all you get. How greedy should we be, after all, what with a stunning Maui sunset as you stare at Lanai in the distance, and yes, two talented musicians play and a non-cliched hula dancer prances in the foreground, too? 

Well, Huihui, the newest restaurant to open oceanside in Ka'anapali (it's 13 months or so old), wants to deliver even more. This is a paradise, after all, so might as well pile on the goodnesses. They claim the name means constellation, which is fitting given the star-studded evening skies above Maui, but appropriate in other ways too. For example, the ceiling lights in the interior part of the smartly-designed indoor-outdoor space are arranged irregularly, so the bulbs form patterns themselves. And then there's the constellation of success the spot embraces--location, a crack staff, a yummy cocktail program, and, most importantly, scrumptious food from chef Tom Muromoto. 

I didn't get great photos of the drinks, but be sure to get the Lahaina Smokestack if you like smoky cocktails. Just the name is clever, as the Pioneer Mill smokestack dominates the nearby town. In addition to its base of smoked Casamigos tequila, when they bring you the drink they infuse it with a bit of torched wood chips at the table--alas, given the sylvan breezes the smoke zips away quickly, but it's a fun touch.

We started with the appetizer above, poke holokai, which indeed does look more like a sushi roll cut up with fins of taro chips attached (that also make delicious eating implements). The poke during our visit was ahi (it's mackerel if that fish is in season, and as an oilier fish it would have been fun to taste the difference), mixed with a smidge of mayo (for creaminess more than anything) and crab and avo. The nori worked for more crunchiness and salt. 

We were a bit less impressed by the Makawao avocado and crab salad, but that's for easily fixed reasons. First, the greens were underdressed, and needed more of a punch from the citrus oregano dressing. The avo stuffed with crabmeat was spot on, and they wisely served the avocado a bit under-ripe, to make sure the eating had some integrity. Then we just weren't sure about the breadfruit croutons. Certainly novel, they weren't crunchy as much as chewy, lacking much flavor. At least they bring the local and the sustainable.

The mains kicked on all cylinders, though. Above is the tangy fish lāwalu: grilled banana leaf wrapped daily i‘a (fish), creamy abalone sauce, cilantro, pohole (fiddle fern) & ogo (seaweed) relish. That's a scoop of mashed potato on the side. Lots of local ingredients done quite traditionally, with an almost vinegarish kick, probably partially coming from those odd and wonderful orange-ish fruited lime-looking guys on the plate, the calamansi.

But the absolute winner of the evening was the Seafood Huihui, which makes sense--you name a dish after your restaurant, it better carry that weight. Think of it as some Maui-cross of cioppino and a noodle-less laksa. There's so much seafood in there you can easily split it, although perhaps I shouldn't use the word easily, what with a red sauce and the need to remove flesh from shells making it a bit of a dangerous bowl of food for anyone not sporting a bib (they don't offer any). Fish, scallops, shrimp with heads, lobster, snow peas, king mushroom--somehow each separate ingredient was cooked just to and not beyond its appropriate point, usually one of the failings in a stew presentation like this one. (C'mon, you've had the veggies from a crudité plate alongside the fish hammered to mush dish at less skillful kitchens, haven't you?)

Be sure to order rice to soak up the intoxicating sauce, as you will insist on having every drop of it. Rich but not too spicy, it warms more than burns, so while a cousin to a curry, it's not as much vivid as enveloping. What they admit goes into it is coconut milk, tomato broth (plus some actual stewed tomato), and roasted kukui or candlenut, which sounds like a more exotic and pungent version of macadamia from my research.

You can also ask the staff anything and they've got answers, about the food or the history of the restaurant nestled in the Ka'anapali Beach Hotel, almost all the way to the famous Black Rock, a distinctive outcrop that catches the last of the sun's rays and then is romantically lit by torches after dark. Timing melded Hawaii laid back--we never felt pressured to eat up--but we also never wound up sitting around waiting for a course. Plus any non-eating time was pleasantly occupied listening to the two musicians, blessedly under-amplified if anything. There's never a need to shout in this comfortable space.

But we all might scream for a banana bread ice cream sandwich. That's macadamia nut ice cream made in house amidst the perfectly moist yet integrally sound banana bread that will make you feel you're having something homemade at a stop on the road to Hana. Sure, why not drizzle some caramel, too.

Or end with another respectful take on a Hawaiian classic--pineapple upside-down bread pudding, suffused with a tequila sauce for some boozy oomph (no, it didn't remind of over-soaked rum cakes from my New Jersey youth--this was sophisticated). The bread pudding had a perfect sweet-savory, crunchy outside--creamy inside yin yang thing going.

Huihui ends up pretty much as magical as Maui itself.

Bluewater Grill Renews Santa Barbara Ties

 

The steadily growing Bluewater Grill chain may be opening a new outpost every year — there are 10 so far from Catalina Island to Phoenix — but the goal for each restaurant is to stay grounded (or “sea-ed” perhaps?) in its region. The pandemic provided the opportunity to refocus that mission at our own Bluewater on Cabrillo Boulevard, which opened in 2018. Specifically, the restaurant hired new executive chef Alberto Torres, a 30-year Santa Barbara resident formerly at Hollister Brewing Company and Chuck’s Waterfront, as well as a new GM, Autumn Vaughn, a rising star in Bluewater’s ranks.

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

Seven Seafood Courses Swimming

We finally got around to doing something we've always wanted to do, and I mean that two ways, as you soon shall see. To celebrate the season we decided to try to pull off a version of The Feast of the Seven Fishes. Of course it's odd to do this during lockdown, when the only ones feasting on the fish would be Chryss and me, but the most unusual of years deserves a fittingly strange fete. Note, while people like to act the Fo7, as I will be calling it, is something passed down from generations ago, as if Italian grandmothers smuggled heirloom recipes between their sweaty bossoms from the Old World, it actually started in the U.S. just over a century ago. What's more, if we were being traditional we would have done this on Christmas Eve, but we decided to make it a day's journey of seafood eating on Christmas Day itself. After all, we didn't have to worry about any of the non-meat-eating fasting pre-Christmas vestigial rules, not being dues paying Roman Catholic Church members, plus Chryss is pescatarian all the time anyway. Oh, and we opted to skip any course with pasta (too heavy--we've got all the fish to swim down our gullets!), or tomato sauce or even fra diavolo, and we opted to make it to seven seafood items and skip a seventh dessert course (panettone is just fruitcake with an Italian accent, you can't fool me).

The trick was coming up with a menu that was diverse enough and worked somewhat progressively, so we could keep eating throughout the day and spread out the food prep. That means Fish the First, was smoked salmon, the crazy good version from Cambridge House right here in Santa Barbara that Lazy Acres sells without fancy packaging by their seafood counter. You see that above, on little brioche toast circles Chryss artfully cut out and toasted in butter, as we figured this wasn't going to be indulgent enough otherwise. There's a dollop of creme fraiche below, a sprinkle of fresh dill above. Each one a salty, tender, creamy, bright bite. We were off to a good start.

Keeping it simple, around lunch we toted out the tins. To the left (above) you see Fish the Second, smoked clams, and to the right Fish the Third, Jose Gourmet Smoked Trout fillets in Olive Oil. There's also some Asiago with rosemary for a creamy cut to all the oily fish, and some kalamatas for a snap of brine. Without a doubt the trout was the star here--my guess is it's best to do something with smoked oysters, not eat them "raw" as it were. But we got caught discussing whether to go dip or chowder and did neither out of ease. Not that we didn't consume them all.

If you were beginning to think--gee, you really didn't make anything, did you?--let me introduce you to Fish the Fourth, a Mexican-style shrimp cocktail from a Rick Bayless recipe and Fish the Fifth, a crab Louie salad. That shrimp packs a kick, cooked and then marinated in fresh lime juice, to be finished with Tapatio and white onion and avocado and cucumber and cilantro and a jot of olive oil. And, yes, ketchup. The only approved use of it in our house. The crab salad had a bit of a kick too--some Sriracha in its mix of Veganaise and lime juice, and then tomatoes, capers, more avo(!) and Bibb lettuce. Given the preciousness of crab (both it's light if delightful flavor and that it was the most expensive per pound thing we bought) it was hard not to try to just eat all of that first and then enjoy the salad after, to be honest. This course was around Happy hour time, and it went perfectly with Buttonwood's unusual Hop On White, that's Sauv Blanc dry-hopped. So smells a bit like IPA, tastes like grapefruit and lemon.

Fish the Sixth was mussels in Pernod cream, sauteed with leek, fennel, red bell pepper. The last of the Hop On went into the cooking juice we of course devoured with spoons after. Don't ask me how, but I forgot to put a crusty loaf of bread on the shopping list, but we wisely remembered we had Alexia truffle fires in the freezer, so heated those up and suddenly it was moules and frites. Perfect with the mightily potent Gulden Draak Belgian ale we'd been hanging out to for evidently just such a Belgian occasion. We really did not do the Italians proud with our Fo7, I have to shamefully admit. But we ate well.

So well that we threw in the towel for the day. (A beach towel, given all the fish.) Fish the Seventh waited for dinner the next night, a gorgeous filet of Coho salmon that we did in very much a throwback style, adapting a recipe from Beverly Gannon's Family-Style Meals at the Hali'imaile General Store. That's what she calls a take on dynamite scallops sauce for sushi, again with some Sriracha, scallion, Veganaise, miso, splash of veggie stock. It's a rich kick and keeps the baked fish marvelously moist. Alongside are coconut-green-curry green beans and jasmine rice given a bit of added flash with cilantro stems, fresh ginger, and a spritz of black sesame seeds and dried seaweed (we actually bought in Ireland--don't tell the Italians, or the Hawaiians...) atop, too. 

So we made it--seven fishes, four meals, two days. No apologies. Well, maybe only to the things that used to be a-sea but now are a part of me. I appreciate their tasty if unwilling sacrifice. And if we ever get to do this again with actual other people to feed too, there will be pasta.

Frankland’s Crab Crawls into Montecito

Why let words get in the way when you just want to make great-tasting food? That explains why what might be labeled a lobster roll somewhere else is “just” a buttered Maine lobster sandwich at the new Frankland’s Crab & Co., recently opened in the old bar space at the Montecito Inn.

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

Bluewater Grill Shines in Lighthouse

When is a mini-chain not a chain? When the just-opened edition — Bluewater Grill, in the lovingly restored lighthouse building on Cabrillo Boulevard — is helmed by a chef who’s pals with the region’s most renowned uni diver. That’s the case at Bluewater, where Chef Chanel Ducharme chums around with fishing superstar Stephanie Mutz. They met when Ducharme was chef at The Hungry Cat on Chapala Street, and the cook even occasionally helped the fisherwoman sell her Santa Barbara Channel catch. “I’m really passionate about sustainability,” explained Ducharme, “so what she does is awesome.”

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

See Ya at Cielito

There are still a few days left in Poetry Month (AKA April), and as I've reported previously, several local bars/restaurants have opted to take some of the cruelishness (that wasn't an earthquake, that was Chaucer rolling over in his grave) out of the month with poetry-inspired cocktails. So get out there and order away. We did last evening, and at Cielito had the pleasure of sipping the Paradise Found, which lives up to its name. Think of it as a margarita's more exotic cousin, with chile-infused tequila, more fruit punch (haha) than just citrus--peach, in fact--, and a bit of smokiness too, all topped with an edible orchid. It's so good, you might decide to find paradise twice in one evening.

And if you're wondering, why, yes--Cielito's kitchen is still a marvel. Chef Ramon Velazquez creates what I want to call Mexushi, artfully bridging his own culture (and knowing how many cultures that really contains--how silly of us to talk about Mexican food as if it were monolithic) with the precision of plating, the eye for detail, and the desire to serve only the freshest of fish that is the hallmark of good sushi (and Velazquez worked at Arigato for a dozen years). His small plates are all pretty and more than pretty delicious, from the quesadilla Ciudad de Mexico that dresses up the simple with grilled asparagus, pickled mushrooms, and the melding (or is that melting?) of both jack and goat cheese to the ceviche verde that adds a bit of Mediterranean and Caribbean to the mix, what with green olives in with the halibut, avocado, and more and each bite atop a plantain chip.

Hope Is the Thing with Anchors

As much as I love living in Santa Barbara (I mean, it's SANTA BARBARA), it's great to get out into the bigger world every now and then and see how real city folk live and eat and drink. Turns out that if the bigger world = San Francisco, you pretty much can't go wrong. It certainly helps we stayed at the Hotel Vitale,* an Embarcadero-crossing away from foodie nirvana the Ferry Building†. But we also Open Table researched our way into Anchor & Hope, and found a true delight.

One thing that's endlessly charming about San Francisco is all the rewards that await you down alleys. That could be a inventive cocktail haven like 15 Romolo, tucked away amidst the strip joints and Beat Museum off Broadway in North Beach, or it could be Anchor & Hope, whose address is 83 Minna Street, but the min- part is more of a clue than the Street part. That said the place just oozes charm, huge and airy as it's a renovated turn-of-the-last century mechanic's warehouse and all decked out with things you'd see by the sea. Made me homesick for my college days in Baltimore, but back then Bawlamer wasn't so polished, that's for sure.

A&H brings together two wonderful things--great beer and the choicest seafood. They even want you to follow them on Twitter if you're a beer geek, they're that into the updates. And a fine list they have, both on draught and bottle. We stuck to the tap all night and were more than happy pairing up the food with the suds, brews from the familiar (North Coast's La Merle) to the not (Linden Street's Burning Oak Black Lager). You can check the list yourself, but do note the perhaps drunken-counting-typo: that beer sampler says "five" beers but clearly lists, and delivers, six.

The food menu is short-ish but that's a blessing, as you'll want everything. Somehow we passed on the oysters and clams, although everyone around us didn't and seemed happy as, well, you know.... Instead we opted to share a starter and a salad (a simple, let it speak for its greeny self mix of wild arugula, pickled fennel, roasted olives, shaved grana padano in a light lemon vinaigrette). That starter was a clever item called salmon pastrami--house cured, then smoked again (if I remember right). It's heavy on the salt, but rich on the taste, and made me wonder what it would be like in a Reuben. At A&H it comes with a perfectly fried egg atop waiting to go gooey, potatoes roti beneath to provide ballast and yolk absorption, and a scattering of sliced asparagus full of spring (both the season and the texture). A lovely dish.

My companion opted to order another app for her main, but when it came out it looked like a main so she sure didn't get gypped.The scallops were seared expertly, paired surprisingly well with their bed of kohlrabi and mustard green, and then set off by the apple miso broth. Lots of layers of flavor all adding to something unexpected. And speaking of surprise, the scallops come with tuna very thinly shaved adorning them and waving. Really. For a long time. So if you get unsettled by your meal moving, it might not be the dish for you.

I more than enjoyed the cod with pork belly (I cannot resist) with three of the best little neck clams I've ever enjoyed--how wonderful when clams as a component of a composed dish can be cooked precisely and not be chewy afterthoughts. Sorry this photo does not do the dish justice, partially because it's poorly lit, partially because it's hard to see the slight bed of cavolo nero that added green, and partially because you can't smell the photo. The sauce is billed as a lemon parsley jus, but that doesn't do it jus-tice, for there's just enough of tomato in it to make it richer but not a tomato sauce. I wanted a bottle of it to take home.

And yes, since it was my birthday, I had to have some dessert, as everyone knows the calories you consume on your birthday don't count. Again, a short list, but everything sounded delish, and not just because I was enjoying an Allagash Curieux Bourbon Barrel Aged Triple at this point (dessert in a glass, sure). We went for something already off the menu, so I'm glad we ate when we did. Generally I eschew the chocolate offerings as they tend, even when good, to be good for three-and-a-half bites, then seem too much of a good thing. Here the chocolate mousse, though, seemed irresistible, with sea salt and a caramelly whipped cream and then a sprinkling of what Cracker Jack would be at the world's best ballpark. You know me--a lover of that sweet-salt mix, and this totally knocked that out of the park.

*Truly a wonderful hotel, and not just for the location. And on top of that--literally on top--is Spa Vitale, where you can start your treatments (just what the doctor ordered) with a wonderful bath that will make you feel wonderfully weightless.

†The Ferry Building and its wonders will get its own entry soon, promise.