The Rochers in Wonderland

Revived by Perfecte and Alia Rocher, the legendary Ranch House in Ojai now serves an imaginative tasting menu where local ingredients take unexpected, unforgettable forms

By Maddy Sims

Photography Silas Fallstich

Nestled on a quiet corner in a residential Ojai neighborhood lies an unassuming wooden building. Step through its gate, and you’re transported into Ojai’s very own wonderland. Lush gardens unfurl in every direction, punctuated by flowing water features, delicate fairy lights, and winding stone paths that lead to secret dining enclaves. As trays of immaculately-plated dishes circulate the tables, diners embark on a surprise journey of fantastical flavors. This is The Rochers at the Ranch House, the newly opened culinary vision of Perfecte and Alia Rocher.

The eatery defies definition—which is exactly how the Rochers intended it. The whimsical, lovingly-restored venue is a working California garden, complete with the original fountain and mosaic pathways by famed Ojai artist Beatrice Wood, ceramic Buddhas, bas-relief sculptures, and antique lighting. Once frequented by icons such as Julia Child, Alice Waters, Paul Newman, Barbra Streisand, and John Lennon, the site carries Old Hollywood prestige. Lively jazz floats over the tables. It’s a curious mix of cultures, eras, and aesthetics, setting the stage for a dining experience unlike any other.

The menu is a vibrant reflection of the onsite garden and nearby biodynamic farms, infused with Perfecte’s Spanish heritage and the couple's global adventures. The result? A dreamlike exploration of flavor, form, and feeling. “For me and Alia, this place is everything—my roots in Valencia, the moment in London that woke me up to Michelin cooking, the cities I passed through around the world, our years in Seattle, and now Ojai,” Perfecte says. “It’s family, travel, culture, food, and art all smashed together.”

Ojai was the perfect fit for the Rochers. “Ojai feels like my home in Valencia—mountains, rivers, oranges, farms, the coast right there,” he says. “We searched the whole U.S. for three years, and this was the one. Then we find out about the history—John Lennon, Paul Newman, Julia Child, Robert Redford—it’s got a soul, a story. The land here basically writes the menu for me. I don’t need fake inspiration—just walk outside, see what’s growing, and cook it with respect.”

Where many fine-dining establishments favor refinement over personality, The Rochers at the Ranch House brims with character and soul. That’s what Perfecte treasures most. “We’re pulling this off without investors; it’s just Alia and me building it together,” he says. “I’m proud we kept it raw and alive, not polished into something soulless.”

And it certainly is alive. Conversation hums through the garden. Classic rock takes over the speakers. The friendly staff—rotating seamlessly between bartending, serving, and bussing—are eager to engage, knowledgeable about every detail of the meal. Artfully-plated dishes pay homage to the surrounding beauty: seafood, meat, fruits, herbs, and vegetables—some harvested just steps away. It’s elevated but unfussy. Elegant, yet effortless. Exactly how Perfecte and Alia envisioned it.

“When food, music, ambiance, and service come together, the result is greater than the sum of its parts,” Perfecte says. “My wife and I love creating an environment that’s warm and welcoming, with all the levels of service you’d expect, but presented in a way that feels approachable. That’s the heart of the inspiration behind The Rochers at the Ranch House.”

Creating something raw and wild might seem surprising from a chef with experience in the world’s top kitchens. Yet it’s precisely that background, paired with his upbringing, that shapes Perfecte’s unique perspective. At heart, he’s a musician—a fact he cites as his primary source of inspiration. 

“I grew up in my grandfather’s restaurant, and on the other side of my family, my grandmother was an amazing cook and butcher,” he says. “Food was always in the picture, but I was a punk rocker and wanted nothing to do with the business.” He headed to London to chase a music career, but a brush with Michelin-level kitchens shifted everything. “While I was deep in my punk days, that experience opened something in me—it showed me the level of care and passion that could exist in food. I became obsessed.”

That care shines through in the prix-fixe meal, a four-course masterclass on creativity. (The menu changes based on what’s flourishing in the garden and what ignites the chef’s imagination.) We begin with drinks. I choose the Yuzu Pink Moment, a playful twist on a gin and tonic, layered with grapefruit, vanilla, and garden-fresh rosemary. It’s perfectly balanced—a refreshing sip on a warm Ojai evening. My partner selects a glass of pinot noir from the wine list, which features an impressive Spanish influence.

The amuse bouche—one of the “snacks” served alongside the courses—arrives next. It’s a weightless avocado and phytoplankton foam crowned with a crispy spirulina churro. On the side are potato puffs and chived crème fraîche, all housemade and absurdly delicious.

The first course blends land and sea: scallop tartare in a gelled leche de tigre (the ceviche liquid of Peru) made of melon and fermented grape. Each spoonful is fresh, slightly sweet, and deeply satisfying. Alongside it: maitake mushroom glazed in blueberry sweet and sour sauce that packs a punch in every bite. A sesame and nori crisp is served for scooping up the scallop and sauce.

Often called “the pig of the sea,” the bluefin tuna served in the second course is the most prized cut available. It arrives atop a piquillo walnut sauce, decorated with a black olive crisp shaped like a pig. True to its nickname, it tastes shockingly similar to meat. It’s paired with chawanmushi, a steamed custard (we’re told it’s Japan’s version of flan), perfumed with shiitake mushrooms and topped with flying fish roe and uni butter. The roe adds an unexpected crunch for a sensory delight. Once again, we’re transported into wonderland: fish so fatty it tastes like meat and custard that crunches. The dishes defy logic, each one unfolding a surreal realm where flavor and imagination know no bounds.

The third course features a pan-seared duck breast glazed in a duck jus, house red wine, and house-made vinegar, resting atop a silky corn purée. It evokes elevated comfort food, especially since it’s paired with coca de pasta bona—a light-as-air bread with a satisfyingly crisp crust. The recipe comes from Perfecte’s grandmother and is complemented by a creamy smoked eggplant dip, brightened by a drizzle of fresh mint oil.

Our palate cleanser arrives next: a chilled honeydew elixir infused with garden herbs. Herbal and fruity, it perfectly bridges savory and sweet. Pre-dessert (perhaps my new favorite course) is an apple sorbet with a crumble.

The grand finale is a dish called “chocolate in textures,” featuring chocolate sorbet, a chocolate crumble, and a chocolate pate expertly layered. It’s a triple threat of chocolate—cool, creamy, and crunchy—stacked and smothered in molten butterscotch, with a zesty pop of passionfruit gelée to steal the show. I wash it down with an espresso martini that might just be my favorite to date. It’s made with unadulterated espresso, free from sugary syrups or cloying liqueurs.

In true punk rock form, Chef prepares an encore: a plate of handmade candies. The first is a strawberry and coconut koi gummy that transports you to the tropics with every bite. Next up is a petite pineapple pâte de fruit made with fresh pineapple and dusted in sugar. The last is an orange and chocolate bonbon. The confection is a love letter to Ojai: bright orange flavor combined with rich dark chocolate and sweet white chocolate encased in a crunchy outer shell with a soft truffle-like interior.

We linger long after the meal, recounting the dishes. Food is memories, and the Rochers have created something unforgettable. “I don’t want guests to just say, ‘That was nice,’” Perfecte says. “I want them to laugh, argue over plates, feel surprised, and remember it like a song stuck in your head.”

After my visit, I can’t get The Rochers at the Ranch House out of mine. “I hope people understand that when they come here—it’s professional, yes, but also natural, full of music and good energy,” Perfecte says. “If they leave feeling like they got punched in the face by flavor, in the best way—that’s success.”

But for Perfecte and Alia, success also lives in the leap itself: planting roots in Ojai and opening this restaurant with their children beside them. “I’m proud my kids get to see it—so they understand life isn’t about playing it safe, it’s about chasing what you love until it hurts a little.”

There’s an undeniable electricity in witnessing someone turn dreams into reality. I leave feeling inspired—not just by the food or venue, but by the fire in Perfecte’s eyes. He and Alia have created something spectacular not for accolades, but for joy. The Rochers at the Ranch House proves fine dining can be fun and full of wonder. And just like Alice, I can’t wait to fall down the rabbit hole again.