ROADSIDE ATTRACTION

ATTRACTION Two Egg Breakfast with charro beans & market vegetables 30 | MARCH/APRIL 2020

Photographed & Written by Silas Fallstich

Someone recently asked me if I’d enjoy a road trip in a Tesla, without thinking I screamed yes. Their argument against it was dependent on the inconvenience of having to recharge every 200 or so miles. For me this “difficulty” opens so many avenues for unique experiences. I like trips both near and far, so when I was invited to the Cuyama Buckhorn in the Hidden Valley of Santa Barbara County, I corralled a friend into copiloting my exploration of the reimagined inn, restaurant, and bar, grabbed the car keys and sped into the sunset.

Pulling into the high desert of California on Friday evening, it’s much colder than Santa Barbara and the crisp desert air awakens my appetite. I’m famished, a little freezing and ready to let loose. My instinct is to beeline straight to the bar but we are first given an insightful property tour and shown to our understated and cozy rooms. I bump the thermostat up, manage to highjack a black Stetson from the room decor, and meander down to the watering hole.

I pony up to the bar; friend, Stetson, and iPhone in tow. First up for me: the Buckhorn Toddy RX, just what the doc ordered—a simple hot toddy concoction with earl grey whiskey and local Rock Front Ranch honey. It’s as hot as a branding iron and does the trick, there’s fire in my belly and I’m ready for a raucous bar night.

I have the misfortune of consistently being out-ordered by my bar companions. I rarely if ever have the better of the two drinks. Tonight is no different, my friend has the El Escorpion in front of her and by the lavish smile she unleashes after the first sip I know I’m done for. Thankfully I’m more of a lush than her and she willingly shares half the spicy habanero infusion. The drink is lip tingling good, a balance of flavors with heat from the house-made bitters and a smokey finish on the nose from the mezcal.

We order green bean sticks as we are fainting a healthy-ish trip. Merle Haggard chimes in just as the appetizer lands on the bar top. The crispy and delicious beans are a simple starter, a pragmatic contrast to the eclectic bar decor. Repurposed horseshoe candlesticks complement an oak bar top that is keyed up with license plates, vintage photographs, bullet shells, and ticket stubs. All made more tangible by burnt edges, brand markings and other assorted trinkets. The bar begins to fill up and we order our second round. The service reminds me of a fully functional steam engine. It gets the job done with an understated level of practicality and atmospheric efficiency.

For dinner I order the Santa Maria Tri-Tip, the bartender hasn’t steered me wrong, as the meal arrives I’m astounded by the portion before me. I dive right into the slaw, a side I traditionally avoid is understated and softens the intensity of the variety of flavors in the other accompaniments. The house-made chili was made to be a partner for the cheesy toast. The fluffiest slab of toast I ever did see imitates a slice of cornbread and has the guile and grace of a roll yet all the makings of an entire meal. My eyes can wrap around it but I have no idea how it will fit in my mouth. I slice it into portions and ask for some of the aforementioned honey, slather that on with butter and I’m practically four-star dining. I have to remember to pace myself and enter alcohol into my gullet to keep things moving along at a reasonable canter. I’m halfway through the OId Fashioned and ready to rumble with the smoked red oak tri-tip. This is what we drove out here for. The meat is tender, slow smoked and screams flavor. The bartender comes over and instructs me to load the next bite with smokey house-made BBQ sauce and pickles. The coalescence of flavorful meat, sweet sauce, and tangy pickles are a hit; the raucous state I was hoping for has been found. Bloody Mary We finish off the night with Coors Light on draft and an elongated discussion on the bar’s vintage newspaper clipping wallpaper. The highlights being “Why Pay ’66 Prices,” “Monday Proclaimed Day of Mourning,” and “See the Joy You Can Give All...Under $6.” As we mosey back to our rooms we have an impromptu iPhone camera flash western shoot out. I walk away the quick draw winner, it must have been the Stetson.

The next morning after a cowboy sized breakfast we put New Cuyama in our rear view mirror. I’m left with a prolonged sense of contentment. All three phases of Cuyama Buckhorn leave me with a familiar feeling, like visiting an old friend. The inn, restaurant, and most assuredly the bar, serving locals and travelers alike, are quickly becoming a must-see Santa Barbara County destination. *

cuyamabuckhorn.com