Fine wine, lobster rolls and artisan sweets in Santa Barbara, California

From the seafood served across the city to the wine produced in the shadows of the Santa Ynez Mountains, Santa Barbara offers a true taste of California

THE FOOD TOUR EAT THIS, SHOOT THAT

“Santa Barbara doesn’t do chain restaurants — that’s not our jam,” says Tara Jones Haaf. “Downtown has about 400 restaurants, and pretty much all of them are family-owned.”

The establishment we’re hovering outside isn’t open yet, but Tara has connections. On her Eat This, Shoot That tour she shows guests her favourite places to eat, offering foodphotography tips and samples along the way. All our stops are in the Funk Zone, a district squeezed between the ocean and Highway 101, where once-derelict warehouses have evolved into restaurants, bars, boutiques and flats. Many of these former industrial buildings initially sprang up to serve the nearby train station, but as transporting goods by rail became less common, they fell out of use and artists moved in, attracted by cheap rents.

A few decades ago, says Tara, the neighbourhood was considered “sketchy”, and the air was filled with the odour of the local fish market, putting the ‘funk’ into the Funk Zone. The market has since moved, but Santa Barbara’s strong seafood culture remains. The waters of California’s Central Coast are rich in everything from salmon and rockfish to abalone and sea urchins, dished up in harbourside seafood shacks as well as fine dining restaurants.

Tyger Tyger, which shares its pink paper lantern-bedecked space with an ice cream parlour and a coffee shop, uses local seafood in its Southeast Asian-inspired dishes. Sitting out on the terrace, we’re brought plates of huge summer rolls. But before we can take a bite, Tara shows us how to capture the perfect picture for Instagram. Slightly over-exposing the photo (which I’m surprised to learn can be done on a phone) makes the dish look brighter and more tempting, she says, as does a sharp focus: “When you get in nice and close, you’re telling the camera you don’t want it to focus on anything else,” she tells us as we all wait for our smartphones to self-adjust.

Pictures snapped, I tuck into a summer roll stuffed with soft, fat prawns, shredded carrot, noodles, lotus root and a generous amount of herbs. It’s served with a deliciously mild, homemade fish sauce, and washed down with sweet, earthy Thai iced tea.

We spend the rest of the tour meandering across the Funk Zone, which, despite rapid gentrification, retains its creative spirit. There are several galleries and artists’ workshops, and it’s the only part of the city where street art is legal. We pass murals of people, animals and abstract designs, some long- standing, some more recent. “One of the coolest things about the Funk Zone is that it’s constantly shifting and changing, art-wise,” Tara says.

Over the next few hours, we make seven stops, gradually filling our bellies at places including Mony’s Mexican Food, another family-run joint, which Tara bills as having “the best salsa bar in town”. On the deck outside the compact taqueria we tuck into beautifully soft, shredded chicken served on delicate corn tortillas and — in my case — loaded up with spicy habaneros, and tangy pineapple and pepper salsa.

We drink — and photograph — blonde beer at the father-and-son-owned Figueroa Mountain Brewing Company (“You want to backlight your beer to illuminate it”), and try lobster bisque at Enterprise Fish Company, a seafood spot that’s been in business since the 1970s, but is sadly closed permanently, due to the state lockdown, shortly after my visit. Judging by the snaking queue outside, I won’t be the only one mourning the loss of its thick, glossy, copper-coloured soup. But then, the Funk Zone will never be short of places to eat.

Three-hour Eat This, Shoot That tours of the Funk Zone cost $109 (£83), including tasters. eatthisshootthat.com

THE CHOCOLATIER TWENTY-FOUR BLACKBIRDS

Mike Orlando isn’t your typical artisan chocolatier. He doesn’t have a culinary background and didn’t train with the experts in Belgium. He’s a scientist by trade: before making chocolate for a living he was an analytical chemist at a university, and his past is writ large across his shop/laboratory.

Twenty-four Blackbirds sits along what’s known as the Haley Corridor, a central, though still somewhat off-piste district of

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