The Beer Chronicles, Day 7, Part 1 - With a Little Bit of Wine Thrown In

Million Dollar Views Come with a Price

Mussel Shoals Landslide, 2005

It narrows and winds, hugging the coast, 4 to 6 lanes of asphalt the only thing between the unforgiving sea and the dry, parched hills, signs of landslides all around.  As west Main Street of Ventura gives way to nothing but coast and cliff, I am reminded of how precarious this entire area is. The narrow, 30 or so mile stretch of road that connects Ventura from Santa Barbara is one of the most susceptible to landslides in the entire state, as Mussel Shoals can attest to.  Back in 2005, the tiny little community was inundated by a massive landslide, killing several and causing untold millions in property damage.  And these things are happening with more frequency, especially as California suffers from drought and the stabilizing influence of vegetation on the hillsides is diminished.

So why do people keep living in a place so objectively dangerous?  It's the view.  There are few sights as amazing as the Pacific Ocean filling up the entire side of your car, the hazy ghosts of the Channel Islands floating in the distance.  One can almost imagine reaching all the way to Japan as you gaze transfixed across its emptiness.  And the contrast between the sharp, parched hills on your other side is equally remarkable, a contrast in blues, greys, browns, and the occasional patch of green, the latter most predominate after winter rains.  And real estate in the area demonstrates this fascination that people have.  In 2015, the median home price in Santa Barbara topped a staggering $1.1 million, all for a piece of real estate in one of the worst places to park in the world.  There, I said it.

Santa Barbara Courthouse Exterior

Santa Barbara Funk
Santa Barbara is indescribably beautiful; it's the wealthy aunt to Ventura's upper middle class niece and Oxnard's working class stepchild.  It's a clean, well-preserved slice of Spanish colonial splendor, best demonstrated by its staggering courthouse, which would put even the richest Spanish landlord haciendas to shame.  Part museum, part working legal center, I can just imagine standing before a jury of my peers in this court, shamed by my lack of poshness.


I'm giving this place a bad rap.  Like all of southern California, the people here are generally friendly and the vibe relaxed.  No one makes you wear a tie, even in nice restaurants, and flip flops are the norm, even in some of the expensive but oh-so-worth-it tasting rooms in downtown's Funk Zone. Formerly an industrial area that hugs the narrow cityscape between 101 and Cabrillo Blvd along the beach, this area has become the home for the young and young-at-heart, encompassing art galleries, wine tasting rooms, surf shops, small bistros, and, of course, breweries.   And it is for the latter that we arrived here, right around lunchtime, to sample the wares at Figueroa Mountain Brewing Company, a small chain of craft breweries nestled along the 101 corridor in Santa Barbara County.

Part of the Santa Barbara Funk Zone

After finally securing parking about half a mile away, we walked to the small block of the Funk Zone that housed the brewery, immediately enjoying the mellow ambience of a weekday lunch hour.  This one little block of this zone alone had our brewery, three wineries, and at least a couple of small bistros.  Keeping a mental note that I needed to revisit at least one winery before we left, we entered a largely uncrowded taproom.  It helped that the brewery itself did not serve food nor was it lacking in space, with a large bar, an even larger open seating area, and huge outdoor patio area.  Of courses, since we were hungry, the staff recommended snagging food from the nearby Lucky Penny, who happily would deliver it to us after ordering. Very good call; while I made sure our beer flight was ordered, my sis would hold down the fort while I ordered our grub, which also allowed for me to make a quick stop at the Area 51 Tasting Room, needing a couple of good white blends for an upcoming food and wine pairing back home.  They happily accommodated my quick and dirty tasting without charging, allowing me to sample both of their white blends, the Equinox (50/50 Chardonnay/Riesling) and the Close Encounter (30% Grenache Blanc, 30% Albarino, 20% Roussane, 10% Verdelho, and 10%Loureiro, the latter of which I'd never even heard of before).  The Close Encounter was the winner- a dry, feral, and citrus zesty summer treat that just screamed apricot, melon, and green apple- so I bought a bottle and made it back just in time for the flight and moments later our pizza to arrive.

Hard working brewer removing spent grain-
Figueroa Mountain Brewery, Santa Barbara

Our eight beers were a mix of ordinary and extraordinary, which makes sense: this is a fairly large regional brewery and some of the varieties such as the Gibraltar are meant to appeal to the larger, mass market audience of lager drinkers.  But the real stand outs here were their two mega beers, high alcohol, barrel-aged wonders that were unique amongst the brews we'd tried on this trip so far.  The Chamuco was a massive 13% ABV Imperial Brown Ale, aged in mescal and tequila barrels with the pepperiness of the spirits really shining through, rounding out nicely with a chocolate and coffee finish.  Even more remarkable was their small batch local favorite Future ExWife, another 13% ABV Imperial; this Amber Ale is aged in whiskey, cherry bitters, and vanilla barrels, with those flavors resonating throughout. Amber Ales, usually the last thing on a menu I would order, were suddenly reinvented for me here, taking on a new and almost celestial transcendence. That's how good this beer was.  If only they bottled either one.


Santa Ynez Valley Wine

Lincourt Cellars

While there are certainly breweries aplenty further north in Santa Barbara County, the afternoon was spent abjuring our usual sudsy haunts in favor of the grape vine and the remarkably good wines that the Santa Ynez Valley has to offer.  From the cool western hills of Santa Rita to the hotter valleys near Los Olivos, this is the nearly perfect wine growing area, allowing for a massive number of varietals to thrive here.  Today, we focused our attention on Chardonnays and Pinot Noirs at the lovely Lincourt Cellars, a place that is part of my wine club and which I had the good fortune to find last summer.  They reinvented Chardonnays for me, bringing out their bright, zesty qualities while submerging the overly oaky notes that had usually put me off this sort of wine.  As my sis is a serious Chard fan, it was a no brainer that we should stop here on our way up to San Luis Obispo.

What I didn't remember was how good their Pinot Noirs were as well!  On a bad day, a Pinot just tastes like a watered down Cabernet Sauvignon and that's the last thing you want.  Such is not the case at Lincourt, with one after another Pinot surrendering lovely aromas of plum and spice while treating us to a dry palate of stone fruit, violet, and that requisite pepper.  If I didn't know better, I would have thought they were slipping some Syrah into the vats as well.

The Gardens at Kenneth Volk Vineyard

When we finished our visit here (grabbing a couple of bottles of Chardonnay, of course), we had some time left before meeting with our hosts in San Luis Obispo so we decided one more winery was in the offering so we drove the backroads to the most off-the-beaten-path vineyard in the area, the Kenneth Volk winery. The one and only other time I'd been here was about three years ago and was looking forward to revisiting.  That time around it was the weekend and the place was a madhouse; they were pouring so many wines and there were so many people, I eventually gave up, having no idea whatsoever what I was drinking.  This time around we could savor it and, as it turns out, we were the only ones in the tasting room. What I did remember about this place was their specialization on producing heirloom wines, estate grown varietals that aren't commonly produced in the area.  Thus we had the pleasure of trying their Blaufrankisch, Aglianico, and Petite Sirah along with a few white varieties.  The first of these, a central European varietal, was surprising.  I'm used to German and Austrian wines bordering on the sweet side but this was nothing like that; rather, a rich tapestry of tannins coated my palate, leaving linger hints of pepper, clove, and cardamom.  While I feel the Aglianico and Petite Sirah are better served by warmer climates (our local New Mexican Aglianico is fabulous!), the Blaufrånkisch was worth the price of admission and the bottle choice of the day.

Next time, a trip to the breweries in downtown San Luis Obispo and their famous Farmer's Market. Stay tuned!