In the mid-2000s, I spent some time with a wealthy toy maker from Chicago who lived in a massive Montecito mansion. No, he wasn’t the most famous Chicago toy-maker-turned-Montecitan, but Rouben Terzian wanted to promote his latest line of dolls, the Only Hearts Club. I’d written a tiny bit about him for Time magazine, but he wanted something more. So, we’d lunch at Via Vai in Montecito’s Upper Village, where the al fresco scene felt plucked from a primetime soap opera.
As we talked toys and tucked into anchovy-streaked pizza, I watched the other patrons — all dressed couture-casual, some freshly coiffed, others in post-tennis gear — trade glances and polite salutations, inquiring about the kids and the homes and the summer trips. It seemed to be where Montecito felt most comfortable with itself: supported by dappled sunlight and mountain views; nourished by reliably delicious, not-too-heavy cuisine; and embraced by the friendly atmosphere of a country club, albeit one with no annual dues required.
I’d largely forgotten about those lunches with Rouben until I arrived at Ancora Osteria for an early dinner a few weeks ago and experienced the exact same sensations on the exact same patio that was once Via Vai. Though not even 6 p.m., the tented space was nearly packed. There was a successful tech entrepreneur with his family on one side, a famous politician holding court on another, and probably enough wealth in the shade to start a large bank. As well-tanned, pastel-wearing families strode in, sweaters draped over shoulders, they’d wave to their already seated friends, catching up on vacations and college plans.
It felt again like an exclusive but open society, and I realized that Ancora, so long as it fosters this vibe, will almost certainly excel here. And that was even before I sipped my elderflower-kissed ‘Cito Spritz or nibbled on the seared yellowfin…