Santa Barbara Wine Country keeps its secrets close to its assless chaps vest.
By now, you probably know the tri-tip sandwiches tucked into a Hobbity-hillbilly holler off the 154 at Cold Springs Tavern—fleeting glimpses of flightless avian dinosaurs spurring mirages of the sub-Saharan savanna along the Solvang-Buellton divide. The after-dinner digestifs, renowned wineries are dedicated to on the sly, when breaking from their Châteauneuf-du-Pape-style blends.
But esoteric treasures still remain hidden within these valleys. As long as you know where to look.