The Ellwood: Coastal Cachet

Tasteful and transportive, The Ellwood at Goleta Beach is an oceanfront institution in the making

By Nicole Johnson

Photography Silas Fallstich

Just years ago, Goleta Beach was on the rocks. Seaweed forests swamped its shoreline in sour mounds. Its hundred-year-old pier attracted more loiterers than lines cast. The shell of the long-shuttered Beachside Bar-Cafe—which was, for 36 years, a favorite of UCSB families and locals alike—rotted behind a chain-link fence. By most accounts, the beach was a community cornerstone gone stale; a waste of a stunning window to the Pacific. 

Enter The Ellwood, an ambitious, elegant reimagination of the coastal gem, three years in the making. With a reverence for its past and renewed vision for its future, the space revitalizes the beach’s natural splendor and cultural significance. And, might I add, serves up a creative cocktail and culinary program that finally brings beachfront dining in Santa Barbara (save for Caruso's) up to par with its scenery. 

“We knew the space was special,” founder and operating partner Omar Khashen shares. “There were so many stories along the way: people who worked and met their eventual partners here, got engaged here, or just had a history with it as a celebratory spot.” Naturally, Omar conjured an intimate gathering place for the next generation—this time with more grandeur. As I step inside on a summer evening, I see just that, my eyes meeting a sea of frothy, bauble pendant lights that mimic suspended seafoam. Framed between the glow above and a bar below, the shorebreak shimmers into view. 

The Ellwood’s design unfolds like a travelogue, each space a distinct escape. In a piano and bar area inside, I’m in an opulent bistro outfitted with teal suede booths, inky blue walls and gold-framed art. On the outdoor patio, I’ve just been admitted to an exclusive beach club with airy vaulted ceilings, woven chairs, and a stately fireplace. My mom (my dining companion) and I are placed at the prime table overlooking the surf. We recall luxe restaurants on Maui that the space resembles—relishing the added pleasure of watching barefoot children build sandcastles just beyond the terrace, and seeing Storke Tower ascend above palms and bluff-top buildings. It helps, too, that only a sleek pane of glass separates us from the sand.

Chef Craig Riker, a Goleta local with a resume spanning (the former) Oliver’s in Montecito, Finch & Fork, and most recently the American Club in Singapore, leads the kitchen. His seafood-forward menu draws on global travels and Central Coast ingredients—Italian, Asian, and Californian in influence, and abundant in innovation.

As we admire a whimsically illustrated cocktail menu, we’re handed a complimentary espresso martini—and I’m instantly won over. After considering the nine-page wine list containing some 150 world-class labels, I opt instead for a mixed drink: the Lavender Farms, which tastes like a cucumber mojito with a Provençal touch. My mom’s Spicy Mermaid, a dressed-up margarita, swims in color and heat. And the Coastal Caviar we’re sharing—a concoction of pink vodka, yuzu, and passionfruit foam, topped with poppable caviar pearls—feels equal parts confection and chemistry. After one sip, we’re bubbling.

Seconds later, we’re playing a delightful game of roulette with a starting Hamachi crudo. It’s jewel-like and accompanied by grapefruit, avocado, jicama, and cucumber aguachile that sends us coughing on one bite, and laughing on the next. A luscious Ora King Salmon poke arrives in tandem, practically blushing. Local strawberries, marinated tomatoes, and miso-chickpea tahini lend brightness to the sunset-hued dish, finished with a crimson pansy bloom. It’s a medley of flavors that shouldn’t work, but does. So I toss expectations aside.

A fruit-infused and seasonal chopped salad impresses too, with enlivening bites of turmeric ginger dressing, sweet date, and crunchy cauliflower. I’m starting to crack the Ellwood’s code: straddling indulgence and freshness with a Californian ease. 

My mom and I marvel over the beach’s remarkable transformation as shadows engulf its sand and mist rises from the sea. Its recent manicure has excavated its original beauty, inviting dogs to prance and toddlers to dart between driftwood. The lights of campus wink on just as the zigzagging ones overhead begin to glow. Soon, yellow pier lamps follow suit.

A fusilli vodka arrives next—twirled into steam and spice, steeped in vodka sauce with ’nduja and Calabrian chile, and crowned in a snow of parmesan. A branzino is delicate, buttery glory. Broccolini arrives scattered with chili flakes, again tickling our tastebuds with unpredictability. Last to arrive is the pistachio barn cake, a refined cousin of cornbread. Our forks race to polish off the fluffy golden round, surrounded by strawberries and topped with vanilla ice cream. 

When I call Omar days later, he’s just returned from a farm in Santa Maria that supplies much of The Ellwood’s specialty produce. “I wanted to show the team how it’s grown,” he says. “Not just to say, ‘Here’s what’s in our crudité,’ but to deeply connect with it.”

The attention to detail shows, and will carry across to The Ellwood’s coming expansions. Across the wharf alley, a once-vacant lot is being transformed into The Break, an event space for weddings and concerts. Next door, The Coop—a walk-up café offering coffee, breakfast, pizza, and much-needed ice cream—will round out the experience at a more everyday price point. “It’s not as much of a culinary adventure,” Omar admits, but rather daily rituals driven by high-quality ingredients.

Already, though, the elevated restaurant encapsulates many experiences. That’s the thing about Ellwood: it multitasks beautifully, and beckons for memory-making. General Manager Antonio Rodriguez—whose local expertise spans Lilac Pâtisserie and The Ritz-Carlton Bacara—floats by to thank us as we finish. We feel spoiled, but never smothered. Even the ocean air feels intentionally perfumed.

As a UCSB alumna dining with my mother, a fellow Gaucho who frequented Beachside Bar-Cafe during its heyday in the late 1980s, the night feels delightfully full circle. And while we aren’t here for any special occasion, it’s inherently celebratory—just as The Ellwood intends.