The Chanticlair Crows Three Concepts

Among its many wonders, The Chanticlair, opening on West De la Guerra Street, brings two acclaimed chefs together in one kitchen, offers three different concepts in uniquely and charmingly designed spaces, but more than anything, it is rooted in a true market menu bursting with surprises. White pineapple guava. Chinotto tangerines. Exotic shelling beans. Sikkim cucumbers. White blueberries. Chilacayote squash, roasted over pecan wood, served aside a stuffed squash blossom, and kicked up with mole amarillo and sprouting pepita crujido.

During my interview with chefs Jeremy Tummel and Jake Reimer, Tummel disappears out the kitchen’s door only to return with a few blackberries plus basil growing out back so pungent you smell it before the door shuts. “It’s Greek columnar basil,” he says, handing me a dime-sized leaf of the exotic herb so I may join in the munching. It hits with Wonka-big basil flavor. For reference points, Reimer talks about his grandfather’s garden, Tummel his mom’s. “This is stuff not sitting in a box or refrigerator,” Reimer says, after running through a list of purveyors —Tom Shepherd, Milliken, Earthtrine, Garden of…, Tutti Frutti — they will work with when items can’t come from just beyond the kitchen. “You’re going to taste the difference,” they promise. 

The two even say they have plots at local farms that must go unnamed where they get to plant whatever their creative hearts desire.

The chefs met in 2004 in the Wine Cask kitchen just as owner Doug Margerum was trying to reinvigorate the dining classic. “It was a great team,” Reimer recalls. “Everyone became an executive chef in town.” That’s true for both Chanticlair-ians: Tummel’s impressive list of employers since includes The Bear and Star, Rosewood Miramar, and La Paloma; Reimer’s includes Miro at Bacara, Pierre Lafond, The Black Sheep, and a stint heading a group bringing “farm to fork” to senior residents for Compass Group up-and-down the West Coast. 

“Fast-forward two decades and we have a lot more knowledge and wisdom,” Reimer says. “We have chiseled away all the outer layers of personal jealousy to come to a place where we appreciate each other’s ideas and visions.”

Those visions offer a range of dining possibilities in a small location. The main Chanticlair experience builds off a seasonal menu based around, according to Reimer, “The relationships we have with farmers and fishermen that are unique because we’ve been here for so long.” Items lean vegetarian/pescatarian (don’t fret, carnivores — you can dig into a grass-fed hangar steak with oxtail flauta, sweet corn, and an ancho emulsion), and then guests can order à la carte, family style, or go all-in for a farmers’ market degustation menu. Reimer says, “The tasting menu only speaks to a certain group of people — we highly recommend it — but you might not want to spend the time….” and Tummel finishes his sentence for him “or commitment.”

That dining occurs in a front room featuring carved wooden banisters, mismatched tables, antique sconces, and even a vintage upright Weber piano (perhaps evenings might end in singalongs). “I fell in love with the location immediately,” Reimer says. “It feels like a timeless space, a mix of Santa Barbara and old New Orleans.”

Tummel adds, “Genuine is good.” If you like any of your plates, glasses, silverware — also mismatched and scored from estate sales, private donations, and consignment shops — they’re all for sale, too. “Make us a deal!” Tummel offers.

Behind that space is a room that fits at most 18 people they call a speakeasy, although it doesn’t require a password for entry, just a love for seafood. The Alley Cat Oyster Bar seems even more like the Big Easy, from its black and white floor tiling to its menu of seafood gumbo ya-ya to BBQ oyster po’ boys to beignets. A window peers into the shucking station of the prep kitchen. 

The Casa de la Paz out back is a private dining room that fits 14 indoors, 28 if you also take advantage of its patio. The restaurant’s website calls the casa “a throwback to the late 19th-century where the Wild West meets the garden.”

Even the restroom is chock-a-block with character — lit red, with garish images of Madonna and Pat Benatar, it comes off like a 1980s-coke-dream-bordello (if not scary). Reimer and Tummel do appreciate the 1920-erected building’s bones, going long past its more recent manifestations as places like Green Table and Bella Dolce Bakery, claiming it had been both a church and a haunted brothel (so maybe the bathroom will be scary). 

[Click to zoom] Some of the small details of The Chanticlair | Photo: Ingrid Bostrom

The name also harkens to the past. Back in the 1940s a Chanticlair bakery café did big business, especially with Hollywood types, on East De la Guerra, but it outgrew its space and moved to L.A. Then there was a Chanticleer where Lucky’s is today; Reimer jokes it “was the Regal Beagle of Montecito.” Running off a list of Harry’s, Joe’s, Jimmy’s Oriental Gardens, and Arnoldi’s, Reimer says, “We wanted to bring back the institutions of Santa Barbara; we wanted to instill part of that spirit.”

Not just history but community is crucial to both men and this project. With all their experience, they’re especially looking forward to mentoring younger chefs. “We want to take what we like about this industry and be sure there are no rules when it comes to creativity,” Reimer says. “We want this to be a safe space for chefs to spread their wings.” That’s true for visual artists too, with the hallway a compact gallery space they even imagine might become a stop on First Thursdays.

Other future plans include Sunday brunch, catering, in-home meal service. “We also want to highlight artisans, chefs, winemakers,” Reimer explains, “letting them do pop-ups or having them get involved with daily menus. There’s a 50-year-old mom I know with insane posole we want to feature.”  Overall, Tummel puts the mission this way, “We want to have memories, stories behind dishes — what makes this special?”

As one crowning example of the engaged and respectful work vibe between the two chefs, near the end of our almost hour-long chat, Tummel points out, during a discussion about wine (and of course they have contacts for exclusive stuff there, too), “I’m a level-one somm — did I tell you that?”

“Get out of here,” Reimer exclaims. “You see, we’re still surprising each other.”

The Chanticlair, 113 West De la Guerra;thechanticlair.com.