The deer line up at the bar | Credit: Courtesy

“The Pickle Plate” might not sing a siren song from a menu. But if you’re dining at Cuyama Buckhorn Restaurant and Bar, the dish’s simplicity certainly should. Banish any thought of boring retro relish trays. Instead, admire its directness, its delivery of just enough vinegary sour to highlight the vegetables’ intrinsic sugar that’s often easy to ignore. Appreciate texture — the snap of carrot, the lush flesh of red pepper, the bristle of broccoli florets. Notice your appetite awaken in fuller ways than it might usually.

It’s both delicious and kind of Zen.

Let’s get even more essential and order what’s basically bread and butter. That’s a Tehachapi rye flour biscuit, a bit homely and hockey puck sized, beside a quenelle of luscious butter, scooped like ice cream, and drizzled with honey like a sundae topping. That rye flour offers hints of malt and sour — plus, it comes from a project working with heritage grain, non-GMOs, all the good stuff. It’s both hearty and light at once, and when slathered with some of the rich butter and the sweet honey, you will be nothing but happy.

In many ways, these two starter plates embody everything about Cuyama Buckhorn and its restaurant. Originally built in 1952 when New Cuyama was a thing (think oil, and we’ll get to that story), the 21-room hotel got a loving revamp starting in 2018. Now it’s a go-to destination for rest and relaxation in the Santa Barbara County high desert, a great base to explore the nearby Carrizo Plain, especially during superbloom months. Every aspect of the property seems thoughtful, peaceful, and designed for pleasure, whether that means poolside reading, playing cornhole, or staring at a wide swath of stars. It’s a perfect spot to find serenity and recalibrate. And eat and drink really, really well.

“Our ambition is to become a destination renowned for its culinary fiber,” says Scott Augat, the property’s general manager, “where food enthusiasts and beverage nerds alike travel to indulge in our locally sourced, thoughtfully crafted dishes that showcase the unique flavors and stories of our region, paying homage to local indigenous cultures and farmers alike.”

The smokehouse platter | Credit: Courtesy

That’s a good thing, given that the Buckhorn is the only game in town as Route 166 snakes through what is billed the Hidden Valley of Enchantment (and earns that puffery, TBH). If you lodge there, you will dine and drink there. Cocktail fans will particularly enjoy their stay, with a creative list that offers classics mellowed out with solera-method barrel aging — try the Nouveau Carré of rye, cognac, Lillet Rouge, Benedictine, and bitters — and a striking set of four farm-to-glass offerings. These four feature fruit from nearby Rock Front Ranch, such as a take on the Ward 8 with house grenadine from the Ranch’s pomegranates, blended Scotch, lemon, and Xocolatl Mole bitters and a desert-themed cooler featuring cactus fruit (yellow, not the more typical, red-fleshed tuna), mezcal, green Chartreuse, aloe, and spearmint. The second one is as much a good spa day as a cocktail.

Then there’s the surely only partially tongue-in-cheek-named God’s Country. The bar does a 3H Wagyu beef wash on rye, creates a cordial that starts with Coors Light, and brings the corn with Mexican liqueur Nixta. You can see and feel the fat flecks on this rich, corn-forward, very new spin on an old fashioned, a fitting tribute to cattle country. “When you indulge in our offerings, you’re not just tasting ingredients,” Augat says. “You’re experiencing the story of our region, meticulously curated and passionately presented.”



As of February, the head chef has been Hugo Vera, who brings a storied career to this remote outpost. The menu is in the process of starting its shift to match his signature, but Vera got to flex recently at a multi-course dinner for the resort’s fourth annual Wild Flour Weekend, pun very much intended. The first night of our visit, he offered us items currently off-menu to hint at where he’s headed. Meat-eater me relished a beef short rib — tender on the inside and grilled crispy on the edges — that would have pleased Fred Flintstone, along with an avo-kale salad that seemed super-Californian; while my pescatarian wife adored her decidedly upscale veggie tacos, stuffed with grilled celery root and smoked mushroom. They certainly showed off Augat’s claim that “all our produce is sourced from within a 100-mile radius, celebrating the terroir and the dedication of our local farmers.” He says the Buckhorn is even planning its own farm.

Cattle greet guests on the road to Cuyama Buckhorn. | Credit: Courtesy

Of course, the cuisine is a mere part of the charm of the space. You certainly can’t mind being stared at while you eat — one wall of the bar has numerous deer trophies staring down; up from the bar itself, old-timey mugshots glare from the shellacked surface. Our two-night stay was enriched by Summer Jones: bartender, waitperson, food runner, phone-answerer for to-go orders, and the one pleasantly fetching a cup for a driver stopping in for a cola for the road. Jones was excellent at serving up not only food, but also those kinds of site-specific stories that merge history and myth, as you’d expect in a spot that’s been open for 75 years.

Speaking of stories, if you crave both unsparing beliefs and killer cabernet sauvignon, book a tasting at relatively nearby Sagebrush Annie’s with about-to-turn-90 owner Larry Hogan. He’s the one who will explain how there’s Cuyama and, not even five miles to the west, New Cuyama; when oil was found in the 1950s, ARCO didn’t want to pay Cuyama any tax money, so it made its own town.

Trips like one to Sagebrush Annie’s can be augmented with Buckhorn Baskets — rented picnic hampers replete with too much food. Ours, which we enjoyed with a view of a snowcapped Mt. Pinos across the Carrizo Plain, included avocado toast, a BLT, a Cobb salad, an oatmeal cookie, a bacon-jalapeño scone, and house-made corn chips we were too stuffed to eat. Every bite pleased.

Then, in the evening, sitting at a fire pit wrapped in blankets as the desert did its nightly temp drop, we had the s’mores kit kindly awaiting us in our room. We’re talking old-school Hershey’s, not some designer chocolate — this is nostalgia and not hankering to be hip in the slightest. As our marshmallows browned on the long, pointy sticks provided, we sipped glasses of red wine Summer Jones helped us choose. All the worry of the world felt far away.


Cuyama Buckhorn room rates run about $195-$200, with dinner entrees in the $20-$40 range. For more information, see cuyamabuckhorn.com.

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