The Brief

Trudging across the top of Bromley Mountain Ski Resort on a sunny afternoon in January, Matt Folts checks his smartwatch and smiles: 14 degrees Fahrenheit. That is very nearly his favorite temperature for making snow. It’s cold enough for water to quickly crystallize, but not so cold that his hourslong shifts on the mountain are miserable.

Folts is the head snowmaker at Bromley, a small ski area on the southern end of Vermont’s Green Mountains. The burly 35-year-old sports a handlebar mustache, an orange safety jacket, and thick winter boots that crunch in the snow as he walks. A blue hammer swings from his belt.

It is nearing the end of the day for skiers, but not for Folts. He’ll work well into the evening preparing the mountain for tomorrow’s crowd. Cutting across the entrances to Sunder and Corkscrew, he heads toward a stubby snow gun used to blanket Blue Ribbon, an experts-only trail named in honor of Bromley’s founder, Fred Pabst Jr. The apparatus stands a few feet high, with three legs and a metal head that’s angled toward the sky. Two lines that resemble fire hoses supply the device with water and compressed air, which it uses to hiss precipitation into the air. As the water droplets fall, they coalesce into snowflakes.

“If it was warmer I’d be a yeti,” says Folts, referring to wetter snow that, if conditions were just a bit balmier, would leave him abominably white. But at these temperatures the powder he’d just made bounced lightly off his sleeve. “That’s perfect.”

Yet perfect fake fluff like Folts’ poses a climate conundrum. On one hand, making snow requires enormous amounts of energy, which creates planet-warming emissions. On the other, a warming planet means that artificial snow is increasingly essential to an industry that, while admittedly a luxury, pumps over $20 billion annually into ski towns nationwide. The good news is that, in the face of these growing threats, resorts have been dramatically improving the efficiency of their snowmaking operations — a move they hope will help them outrun rising temperatures.

American ski areas logged more 65 million visits last season. A sizable chunk of those likely came during Christmas week, when a resort can make — or lose — a third or more of its annual revenue. The Martin Luther King Jr. and Presidents Day weekends are similarly vital. But ensuring that there’s a surface to slide on is an increasingly fickle business.

Snowpack in the Western U.S. has already declined by 23 percent since 1955, and climbing temperatures have pushed the snowline in Lake Tahoe, California — which is home to more than a dozen resorts — from 1,200 to 1,500 feet. A recent study found that much of the Northern Hemisphere is headed off a “snow-loss cliff” where even marginal increases in temperature could prompt a dramatic loss of snow.

Matt Folts checks a snowmaking gun that is blowing fresh flake on the Blue Ribbon trail at Bromley Mountain Ski Resort. Tik Root / Grist

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By one estimate, only about half of the ski areas in the Northeast will be economically viable by mid-century. Research suggests that Vermont’s ski season could be two to four weeks shorter by 2080, while another study found that Canada’s snowmaking needs will increase 67 to 90 percent by 2050. At Bromley, snow guns have been essential for years; without them, the resort’s mid-January trail count would have likely been in the single digits, rather than 31.

Opening terrain, however, comes at a cost. It takes a lot of horsepower to move water up the hill under pressure, and compress the air the guns need to function. Bromley’s relatively small operation, which produces enough snow each season to cover about 135 acres in three or more feet of the stuff, chews through enough electricity each year to power about 100 homes. All that juice adds nearly half a million dollars to the resort’s utility bill.

But Bill Cairns, Bromley’s president and general manager, says the system is actually much more efficient than it was just a decade ago. “I used to spend about $800,000,” he says. He’s now able to produce more snow for around half the price. “The reduction in cost with snowmaking has totally been a game changer.”

Mastering the 'black art'

Powder days start with specks of dust high in the atmosphere. As they fall, water droplets attach to them, forming snowflakes. Ski areas like Bromley replicate this natural process using miles of pipes that feed water and compressed air to hundreds, sometimes thousands, of snow guns scattered across a mountain.

Early guns mixed compressed air and water inside a chamber, and then used air pressure to propel water droplets skyward through a large nozzle. This was the type of system Fred Pabst Jr., of beer family fame, spent $1 million installing in 1965, making his resort one of America’s earliest adopters.

“It was a black art. We knew nothing,” says Slavko Stanchak, whose inventions and expertise have made him a legend among snowmakers. It was an era when energy was relatively cheap and resorts would rent rows of diesel-powered compressors that threw whatever snow they could generate on the hill. But as energy costs rose in the 1990s and early 2000s, so did the impetus to innovate.

“We focused on making the process viable from a business standpoint,” Stanchak says.

He eventually launched a consulting company that helped ski areas, including Bromley, design or improve their snowmaking operations. On the water side of the equation, Bromley spent the 1990s improving its piping network and added a mid-mountain pump to help get H2O from its ponds to its trails. (Much of the water eventually returns to the watershed during the spring melt.) But the amount of water needed to carpet a ski hill in snow remains relatively fixed from year to year, so there are only so many efficiency gains to be had. Compressing air is what really eats into a budget.

“The air is where the little dollar bills fly out,” says Cairns, adding that two diesel compressors can consume a tanker truck of fuel every week.

The 1990s also saw more efficient snow guns come to market. Tinkerers discovered that devices with multiple small holes, instead of a single large aperture, could utilize water, rather than air pressure, to force fluid upward. This allowed them to move the compressed air nozzles to the outside of the barrel, where they would primarily break the water stream into droplets — a far less strenuous function than forcing them out of the gun.

“An old-school hog might use 800 cubic feet per minute [of compressed air]. This one here uses about 70,” Folts says, pointing toward a tower gun from the early 2000s that stands about 15 feet tall and, unlike the ground guns on Blue Ribbon, can’t be easily moved. Up the hill sits a newer model that can get by on closer to 40 cubic feet per minute, or CFM, and a bit farther down the slope is the resort’s latest tool, which under ideal conditions can use as little as 10. That’s a roughly hundred-fold increase in efficiency.

The state-backed Efficiency Vermont program urges resorts to swap in as many of the more efficient devices as possible. “That work got a real big boost in 2014, when we did the ‘Great Snow Gun Roundup,’” explains Chuck Clerici, a senior account manager at the organization. Before then, it had been doing a handful of sporadic replacements. The roundup retired some 10,000 inefficient models statewide, and, overall, Clerici says snowmaking operations are now using about 80 percent less air than they used to.

Bill Cairns, the president and general manager of Bromley Mountain Ski Resort, with a map of the resort and its snowmaking system.

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While Efficiency Vermont doesn’t separate savings that are the result of snowmaking upgrades from, say, those tied to building improvements, it reports that its efforts to help ski resorts use less energy have saved more than a billion kilowatt hours of electricity between 2000 and 2022. That’s nearly a million tons of planet-warming carbon dioxide emissions or the equivalent of taking more than two gas-fired power plants offline for a year.

“The bigger projects we’ve had over the years have been snowmaking projects,” says Clerici. “We don’t have that many instances in the energy-efficiency realm where you can swap something that uses one-fifth of the energy.”

Standing next to the building that houses Bromley’s air compressors, Cairns points to a concrete slab with two manhole covers that once fed massive underground diesel tanks. “Underneath was fuel,” he says. To his right is a large pipe marked where the carbon-spewing generators used to connect to the rest of the snowmaking system. Now it’s cut off.

One snow gun at a time

Bromley is among the many snowmakers that have been able to eliminate, or drastically reduce, its dependence on diesel air compressors. Electrifying the job has also allowed some resorts to incorporate renewable energy. Bolton Valley, in Vermont, features a 121-foot-tall wind turbine. Solar panels now dot the hills of many others, including Bromley, which leases a strip of land beside its parking lot for a solar farm. The array produces more than half the power its snowmaking system consumes.

America’s snowmaking industry has been historically based on the East Coast, where natural snow can be especially elusive. But that’s changing. “We’re doing a lot more work out West,” says Ken Mack, who works for HDK Snowmakers, one of the largest equipment manufacturers. One of the company’s executives recently moved to Colorado to help meet demand.

The snow guns that HDK sells currently may be reaching the limit of how little water and compressed air they use. “We’re probably getting to a point where we’ve gone as low as we can go,” says Mack. That’s required finding gains in other arenas.

One step snowmakers can take, says Mack, is to better track how much energy they use, ideally in real time. He’s in the midst of trying to help revive a metric called the Snowmaking Efficiency Index, or SEI. It’s a measure of how many kilowatt hours it takes to put 1,000 gallons of water worth of snow on the hill, something Stanchek pioneered years ago but never quite took hold. (For reference, under ideal circumstances it takes about 160,00 gallons to cover one acre in one foot of snow.)

If publicly released, such data could provide transparency and allow ski areas to boast about their efficiency. That’s particularly appealing given that sustainability and environmental stewardship are increasingly top of mind for consumers. But because SEI varies considerably from mountain to mountain, and by temperature, it will likely be most effective as a tool for resorts to compete against themselves, rather than each other.

This year, Bromley’s SEI ranged from about 23 in the warm, early weeks of the season to mid-teens when temperatures dropped. Cairns consistently tries to beat those numbers and can monitor them from his office. If the number ever spikes, he can search for an open gun, leaking water line, or other culprit.

“Anything below 20 is really good,” Cairns says. “So we’re trending the right way.”

An arguably more revolutionary development in snowmaking is the move toward automated systems that can be operated almost entirely remotely. One obvious benefit is reducing the need to find people willing to schlep around a mountain in the dead of night, when temperatures can dip into single digits. More importantly, automation allows resorts to ramp snowmaking up and down quickly, which is particularly useful as global temperatures climb.

Snowmaking can occur when the mercury drops to about 28 degrees F (though the process is optimal at around 22 degrees or less); a threshold Mother Nature sometimes crosses for only brief periods. When it does, resorts can take advantage with a press of a button, instead of having to spend the time dispatching a crew out to fire up all those guns. The ability to operate in shorter time windows also means less energy is needed to run pumps and compressors — and get people up and down the mountain.

“You’re done sooner,” says Mack. Where it might take 100 man-hours to cover a trail, automation could cut that to 20 or 30. “It’s absolutely a savings. But it also gives you a little bit of reserve if you need it.”

Europe is far ahead of North America when it comes to automation, in part because governments have subsidized the daunting expense of running electricity and communication lines across a mountain. The cost of installing the technology can quickly run into the millions and, without subsidies, the benefits for American ski areas have been limited largely to smaller mountains in warmer climates, such as in the mid-Atlantic, where it is vital to surviving. But bigger resorts in snowier locales, including Stowe, Stratton, and Sugarbush in Vermont and Big Sky in Montana, have been testing the equipment.

“The future of snowmaking is definitely going to be automation,” says Cairns. “It’s just a lot of money, and nobody really wants to subsidize that yet.”

Bromley is testing one semi-automated gun that could avoid the wiring issue. It uses the existing compressed air supply to spin an internal turbine that creates just enough energy to run a small onboard computer. By monitoring the weather conditions, it can automatically adjust the rate of water and air flow to produce optimal snow.

“Those guns don’t need any power,” says Folts, as he finished adjusting the position of one gun and moved to the next. “That’s kind of another next level.”

Until then, Folts and his crew lumber on into the night, one gun at a time.

When it first opened in 2015, Blue Butterfly Village was hailed as a rare sanctuary for women veterans overcoming homelessness.

But some tenants now say conditions at the taxpayer-subsidized San Pedro townhome complex have become so bad, they’re willing to give up their rental subsidies and take their chances on finding a home they can afford on their own limited income.

“I’d rather be freaking homeless than continue to live [at Blue Butterfly],” said Jade Easley, who served in the U.S. Army for nearly a decade.

She said that in 2024, the city’s Housing Department inspected her unit and found violations, such as faulty smoke detectors, defective stairs and bad plumbing. She said she frequently heard mice crawling in her walls.

Easley said she told property managers last year that locks on one of her doors were broken. The next month, she suffered a break-in. Seven months later, she said, the door still hadn’t been fixed, so she paid out of pocket to repair it herself.

Easley left Blue Butterfly earlier this year. She now lives with her two children in Tucson, Arizona. She said she moved there because rent is cheap enough to cover with her VA disability benefits. But she is now cut off from her social support system.

“This was not a choice to live here," Easley said. “I’ve lived outside before. I’ve lived deployed. But I never experienced mice in my home for that long of a period of time, clawing at my walls as I'm trying to sleep, and my kids running to my room saying something’s trying to get them.”

What happens after veterans get housed?

Easley is one of 12 current and former tenants who filed a lawsuit in Los Angeles County Superior Court last week against Blue Butterfly’s nonprofit landlord, Volunteers of America.

The tenants allege the organization and its affiliated groups have neglected the property, have failed to provide safe and habitable housing and have harassed residents who complained about worsening conditions.

According to the lawsuit, the property — which is nestled in a hillside down a winding private street lined with other abandoned military housing structures — has become infested with snakes, insects and other wildlife. Coyotes have crawled under poorly maintained fences, tenants say, and black widow spiders have taken over their patios.

Other alleged problems at the property include broken street lamps, sewage overflowing from defective septic systems, trash piling up as collections stopped and lax security that allowed one unit to operate as a “drug den” for years.

“It really has been stressful,” said Alisa Randell, a Public Counsel attorney representing the tenants. “There have been impacts on folks' mental health because of all of these issues not being able to get their homes fixed and not feeling safe and secure at this property.”

Raytevia Evans, a Volunteers of America spokesperson, declined an interview. She emailed a statement, saying the organization could not comment on active litigation.

“We regularly inspect our properties, including Blue Butterfly Village, and respond promptly to maintenance and safety requests from our residents,” the statement read. “We remain deeply committed to ensuring Blue Butterfly Village serves as a supportive environment for female veterans and their families, and we continue to collaborate with municipal partners and property management to address any outstanding maintenance or operational needs.”

Blue Butterfly Village is located down a winding private road. Residents must drive past derelict former military housing in order to reach their homes.

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The allegations come at a time when L.A. has been making progress on bringing unhoused veterans indoors. According to this year’s regional homeless count, about 2,250 veterans currently experience homelessness across L.A. County on any given night. That represents a decrease of about 42% from levels of veteran homelessness seen in 2020.

But veteran advocates said some of that decrease is the result of placing people in substandard housing where habitability concerns go unaddressed.

Rob Reynolds told LAist the Blue Butterfly allegations are similar to complaints he has heard from veterans placed in new housing on the VA campus in West L.A. He said those complaints also involve alleged lack of security, frequent staff turnover, pests and broken plumbing.

“I hope the plaintiffs in this case are successful in holding the defendants accountable, and I hope this leads to greater oversight and accountability for the property management groups operating veteran housing in Los Angeles,” Reynolds said. “They deserve better.”

Units received public funding, then failed city inspections

Easley said she spent about one year couch surfing and living in her car before moving into her unit at Blue Butterfly. At first, she said, her new home was “rainbows and sunshine,” describing it as a life-changing opportunity that gave her a reason to keep living.

But during the COVID-19 pandemic, Easley said, the property managers changed and problems in her townhome were left to fester. At the time, she was running a licensed, in-home daycare.

“I was actually pretty proud of myself because I finally was owning my own business,” Easley said. But she said neglect by the landlords left her home too unsafe to operate the daycare.

“I didn't want to be in my own unit,” she said. “I didn't want other people to be in my unit, so I just stopped that completely.”

A car with a popped hood is parked in a driveway outside of a townhome at Blue Butterfly Village in San Pedro.

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Disputes between landlords and tenants over habitability are fairly common in L.A. But the situation at Blue Butterfly is notable for how much taxpayer funding has flowed into the property.

The property consists of 74 two-bedroom townhomes. They were repurposed from existing structures that previously provided housing to military families stationed at a nearby Navy base. That housing was closed in 1997. The complex was redeveloped in part with about $12 million in state and local funding, loans, waived development fees and donated land.

Tenants living at Blue Butterfly typically pay up to 30% of their income on rent, with government-funded housing vouchers covering the rest. Some vouchers are administered through the HUD-VASH program, specifically targeted to housing veterans, while others are funded through mainstream Section 8 vouchers.

When landlords fail to fix deteriorating conditions, the local governments that administer these vouchers can place housing units under “abatement,” meaning rental subsidies will be withheld until homes pass future inspections.

LAist discovered through a public records request that the Housing Authority of the City of L.A. has placed at least three units at Blue Butterfly Village under abatement in recent years.

In 2024, Housing Authority officials told a Volunteers of America subsidiary they would not provide rental subsidies until the landlord fixed a faulty toilet, a broken bedroom door handle, a damaged refrigerator and dishwasher, non-functioning smoke and carbon monoxide detectors and cleared a mouse infestation.

‘It makes you feel like nobody cares’

Anesha Aird, a U.S. Navy veteran, spent about two years without stable housing after retiring from the military. She said she was usually able to pay for short-term hotel stays, but she spent some nights in her car.

Like Easley, Aird said her early days at Blue Butterfly were positive. But over time, her requests for maintenance and increased security on the property were ignored, she said.

At first, “we had proper security that stopped you at the gate, asked you where you were going, checked your name against a ban list to ensure that you were allowed to be on the property,” Aird said. “All of that is gone.”

Anesha Aird stands in front of her townhome at Blue Butterfly Village in San Pedro.

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When the attached townhome next to hers burned down in February 2024, the unit was left as a burned-out husk for about nine months, Aird said.

Before the repairs began, Aird said, she asked management to relocate her. She said she worried the construction noise and irregular work hours would disrupt her son’s home-schooling and trigger her post-traumatic stress disorder.

She said management denied her request.

“There are veterans here — veterans like myself with extreme PTSD and bad anxiety and depression,” Aird said. “It makes you feel like nobody cares.”

Tenants say they faced retaliation after asking for repairs

The tenants’ lawsuit alleges that Volunteers of America and other defendants violated the city of L.A.’s tenant anti-harassment ordinance by threatening to remove tenants and blaming them for conditions that landlords are responsible for maintaining.

Randell, the tenants’ attorney, said the lawsuit asks the court to require the landlords carry out repairs, restore services, end alleged retaliation and pay damages to compensate tenants for alleged overpaid rent and emotional distress.

“This site has a lot of promise,” Randell said. “We just want to see it live up to its promise.”

A spokesperson for the L.A. Housing Department said it currently had no records of open complaints or violations at the property. Officials with the Housing Authority of the City of L.A. did not respond to LAist’s request for information on current conditions at the complex.

Aird said she recently came home to find a three-day notice warning of a potential eviction on her door. She said she did not believe the threat would hold up in court. In any case, she plans to move out once she can find another building where she can use a housing voucher.

“I served this country honorably for 20 years,” Aird said. “All I'm asking is that I get treated with that same respect.”

Angelenos have escaped to Santa Barbara for generations. While neighboring Santa Ynez Valley captured the culinary spotlight in recent years, the coastal strip is striking back.

Fueled in part by a surge in commercial and real estate investments, and bolstered by the expansion of the California Michelin Guide, Santa Barbara and neighboring Montecito are experiencing a hospitality boom. (The region received a similar jolt more than two decades ago when the film Sideways spurred interest in Santa Barbara County’s wines and restaurants.)

The Basque restaurant has been open for just a year, but is regularly packed.

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With a string of buzzy new openings this past year — like Little Mountain and Monte’s in Montecito and Dom’s Taverna in downtown Santa Barbara — and more high-profile debuts on the horizon, including the return of legendary chef Thomas Keller to Southern California at the Coral Casino, the current momentum shows no signs of abating.

Underpinning this expansion are Santa Barbara’s long-standing institutions delivering genuine hospitality, alongside the region’s unrivaled bounty: pristine seafood, unmatched seasonal produce and world-class wines. This combination of heritage and innovation has transformed the American Riviera into a bona fide gastronomic destination.

While experiencing every notable establishment would easily require more than 48 hours, this ambitious itinerary covers significant ground. It purposely bypasses some well-trodden staples already in heavy rotation among Angelenos — such as Loquita, Bettina, Caruso’s, Cold Spring Tavern, La Super-Rica Taqueria and the like — to focus on lesser-known gems and standout newcomers.

Here is how to spend a gloriously food-centric weekend eating and drinking your way through Santa Barbara.

Friday

Happy Hour:

Arrive between 4:30 and 6:30 p.m. to snag $2 off all drinks and food.

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Set your out-of-office message by midday Friday and escape north via the 101 or aboard Amtrak’s Pacific Surfliner. Well-made drinks upon arrival are non-negotiable, and the veteran bartenders at The Pickle Room deliver exactly that.

Arrive between 4:30 and 6:30 p.m. to snag $2 off all drinks and food. Order a signature Pickletini or classic Old Fashioned, pair it with a fried-to-order Reuben egg roll and settle into a space steeped in history.

The venue was once Jimmy’s Oriental Gardens, Santa Barbara’s last Chinese-owned business in its New Chinatown. When the Chung family closed the beloved restaurant in 2006, after 59 years, the Santa Barbara Trust for Historic Preservation stepped in to buy the property. Today, Clay Lovejoy operates both the adjoining Three Pickles sandwich shop and the bar.

For a slice of local Chinese American history, peruse the life-size photo exhibit dedicated to the founding Chung family along the bar’s back wall.

Kick off the weekend with The Pickle Room's signature Pickletini or classic Old Fashioned.

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Dinner:

The energy inside Dom’s Taverna is electric. Though open for just a year, the Arts District dining room is already packed with local couples, friends, and families.

Most people are here for Chef Dominique Crisp’s Central Coast spin on Basque cooking.

“It's intrinsically Basque to take whatever amazing ingredients are available, make them part of your menu, not really fuss it up,” Crisp said.

Herbaceous smashed papas brava at Dom's Taverna.

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Backed by strong ties to regional purveyors like 805 Seafood and La Pluma Farms, the menu changes almost daily. On a recent night, locally caught bluefin starred in both a crudo and pasta special, while the day’s oysters hailed from Morro Bay.

The menu is anchored by mainstays like wonderfully herbaceous smashed papas brava and arroza al forno made with morcilla from La Española Meats in Los Angeles’s South Bay. To drink, owner Raj Nallapothola’s Laie vermouth, served simply on the rocks with an orange slice and a green olive, cuts beautifully through the rich menu.

For the finale, a spoonful of whipped housemade Basque cheesecake topped with Osetra caviar delivers a perfect, decadent balance of sweet and savory.

Saturday

Coffee:

The third-wave coffee scene in Santa Barbara and its surrounding communities is exceptionally stacked, anchored by trailblazing stalwarts like Dune Coffee and Handlebar Roasters alongside hip newcomers like Little King.

Joining the lineup is Dawn, a breezy cafe attached to the State Street Drift hotel. With its central location and inviting indoor-outdoor seating, Dawn is a fetching option for classic espresso drinks, matcha, seasonal sippers — and prime people watching.

Breakfast:

Treat yourself with French Bordier butter at Oat Bakery.

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Ease into the day at Oat Bakery, a serene Scandinavian-inspired shop located just off State Street, with additional locations in Goleta and Montecito. Inside the minimalist, jewel-box space, co-owners and spouses Louise Ulrich-Fontana and Lou Fontana showcase a tightly edited lineup of Danish breads and pastries baked with locally sourced grains and minimal added sugar.

The dense, satisfying hygge buns are laced with cinnamon and packed with dates and walnuts, while the flaky frøsnappers feature an almond marzipan filling under a crust of toasty sesame and poppy seeds.

For the ultimate morning fuel, order the Danish breakfast: a crusty sourdough bun sliced and slathered with French Bordier butter, layered with Gouda and brightened with apricot-jalapeño jam. Grab a loaf of the bakery’s signature sesame charcoal sourdough for the perfect edible souvenir.

Lunch:

This family-owned restaurant draws crowds with its hyper-local catch, including box crab, sea urchin, and rock crab.

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Stearns Wharf is packed with touristy attractions, but the 46-year-old Santa Barbara Shellfish Co. is a refreshing exception. Perched on the West Coast’s oldest working wooden pier, this family-owned restaurant draws crowds with its hyper-local catch, including box crab, sea urchin and rock crab.

Order the uni, and it comes plated alongside its outer shell, spines still subtly moving. Delicately steamed crabs arrive with drawn butter and hefty metal crackers for extracting their meat.

Whether seated on the L-shaped patio with expansive views of the Pacific or along the dining room bar overlooking the busy open kitchen, there are no bad seats at this bustling pier-side eatery.

Cocktail Hour:

While staying overnight at Montecito’s storied San Ysidro Ranch starts at $2,500, the idyllic property, originally a Spanish land grant, has several food and beverage venues open to the public. Stroll the meticulously maintained grounds with a spritz, martini, or margarita in hand by ordering from the Garden Walk drinks menu available at The Speakeasy and The Stonehouse restaurant; live music starts at 5 p.m. daily.

For a secluded, moodier affair, duck into the eclectically appointed cocktail bar The Speakeasy — cool stone walls, low wooden ceilings, plush red booths and bold animal prints — for rare spirits and expertly made drinks.

Walk-ins are welcome, but reservations are encouraged on Fridays and Saturdays.

Dinner:

Little Mountain, a nine-month-old hotspot in Montecito’s Upper Village.

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Chef Diego Moya may be new to the Central Coast, but he has quickly mastered the region's micro-seasons. At Little Mountain — a nine-month-old hotspot in Montecito’s Upper Village — the Chilean American chef dazzles diners nightly with a skillful, less-is-more restraint centered around a wood-fired kitchen.

Moya trained globally at famed institutions like Paris’ L’Arpège and Bangkok’s Nahm, and most recently served as executive chef at Racines in New York.

On a recent visit to Little Mountain, freshly caught local lingcod was transformed into an irresistible ceviche with burnt tomato and basil. A gorgeous flank of ruby-red tuna came lightly brushed with guajillo, and paired with ripe honeydew and a fermented pepper-and-melon gazpacho. Even simple koshihikari rice, fortified with housemade butter and white sesame seeds, becomes a main event under the chef’s care.

Beverages — including wines, cocktails and spirit-free selections — mirror Moya’s culinary ethos, focusing on small-scale, sustainable and low-intervention producers.

Little Mountain is an important opening not just for Montecito, but for all of Southern California.

Sunday

Brunch:

Bistro Amasa is tucked into the ground floor of the 155-year-old Upham Hotel — the oldest continuously operating hotel in Southern California.

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Tucked into the ground floor of the 155-year-old Upham Hotel — the oldest continuously operating hotel in Southern California — Bistro Amasa is just the place for Sunday brunch.

Executive chef Julian Martinez and restaurateur Jesse Gaddy, the hospitality pros behind local favorite Barbareño, opened the restaurant late last year, bringing chill yet refined vibes to the historic Victorian property.

Grab a seat on the wraparound patio overlooking a quieter stretch of downtown and settle in for brunch classics done right. The shakshuka with vadouvan-spiced tomato ragu, over-easy eggs, and sautéed kale offers pure comfort; the grilled pan de cristal served alongside is ideal for sopping.

For something sweet, a small stack of pancakes made with house ricotta is served with butter and preserved lemon syrup. A slate of whimsical cocktails is on hand for the boozy brunch crowd, including a requisite espresso martini and a summery strawberry shrub highball spiked with vodka.

The Los Angeles Unified Board is reevaluating how students, educators and schools use artificial intelligence as some parents call for an in-classroom moratorium. A new board committee on AI use meets for the first time Wednesday.

“I think that success will look like, in a quickly changing world, knowing that we are being proactive to protect our students and safeguard their health, their wellbeing, and their development first and foremost,” said Kelly Gonez, the committee chair. “But also ensuring that we are truly preparing our students for the world that they will emerge into once they graduate from our schools.”

Gonez said the goal is to create AI policy recommendations that could then be voted on by the full board next year.

What’s AI use like in schools?

Recent surveys indicate that many students and educators are using AI, even as research about whether the tools help students learn are mixed.

LAUSD students 13 and older can use AI tools at their teacher’s direction and after they complete a lesson about “digital citizenship,” under current district policy.

The board voted to create the generative AI committee when it adopted student screentime restrictions in June. In addition to Gonez, the committee includes board members Nick Melvoin and Tanya Ortiz Franklin.

A group of LAUSD parents who advocated for those restrictions wants the district to block all student AI use until more research is done.

“I think the current policy needs to be discarded completely, and we need to start from scratch with the foundational question of what is the benefit of these tools in education?” said Anya Meksin, deputy director of Schools Beyond Screens and the parent of a district elementary school student.

How to weigh in in LAUSD's AI policies

The first LAUSD board generative AI committee meeting is 10 a.m. to noon on Wednesday, Sept.2, where district leaders are scheduled to give a presentation about AI in education.

Community members can tune in to the meeting online, over the phone or in person at board room at 333 S. Beaudry Ave.. Registration for public comment starts at 10 a.m. Tuesday.

Meetings are also scheduled for the following Wednesdays at 10 a.m.:

• Oct. 21, 2026
• Dec. 9, 2026
• Jan. 20, 2027
• March 3, 2027
• April 7, 2027

A jury found Duane “Keffe D” Davis guilty of orchestrating the 1996 killing of rap icon Tupac Shakur, marking the first conviction in a case that has gripped hip-hop fans for decades.

The 63-year-old Davis was convicted Monday of a single count of murder with a deadly weapon and could be sentenced to life in prison. The jury deliberated for less than 3 hours after a weekslong trial in Las Vegas.

After the verdict was read, Shakur's sister, Sekyiwa “Set” Shakur, cried and hugged the prosecutors. Also in the courtroom was Davis’ son, who covered his face with one hand.

Chief Deputy District Attorney Binu Palal told jurors in closing arguments that Davis acquired a gun and “went hunting” for Shakur and Death Row Records co-founder Marion “Suge” Knight after they beat up Davis’ nephew earlier that night.

Palal acknowledged that Davis’ accounts of the killing evolved over the years but argued those differences reflected Davis’ changing motivations and efforts to protect himself. One critical detail, he said, remained consistent: Davis repeatedly placed himself inside a white Cadillac from which the shots were fired.

The panel of 16 jurors, four of whom are alternates, heard testimony from 24 prosecution witnesses and three defense witnesses over nine days.

“The core facts remain. The material facts remain,” Palal said.

The prosecution said Monday evening that the state would dismiss the gang enhancement part of the charge due to witness logistics.

The decades-old case

The trial brought to a head a decades-old case that for years has drawn the attention of hip-hop fans and true crime experts alike. Shakur, who was considered one of the most influential rappers of all time, was in Las Vegas on Sept. 7, 1996, and stopped at a red light when a white Cadillac pulled up beside him, and shots were fired. He died six days later from his wounds. Knight was also wounded but survived.

For years, nobody had been charged in the rapper’s death until Davis began making public statements, saying he was in the Cadillac and gave the gun to others in the backseat. Davis described the shooting as an act of retaliation after Knight and Shakur’s entourage beat up Davis’ nephew hours before the shooting.

Under Nevada law, someone who helps another person commit murder can be convicted of the crime. Davis is the only person still alive among the four men prosecutors say were in the Cadillac. The man who prosecutors say originally gave the gun to Davis is also dead.

Prosecutor says Davis' statements didn't need to be corroborated

Palal told jurors that if they believed Davis' statements, they did not have to be independently corroborated with additional evidence.

Still, he pointed to the rivalry between the South Side Compton Crips and Mob Piru, the fight with Orlando “Baby Lane” Anderson and testimony that members of Shakur’s circle identified Anderson and Davis as suspects the night of the shooting. Witnesses had testified to the heated gang rivalry between the South Side Compton Crips and Mob Piru, which were associated with dueling record companies Bad Boy Records and Death Row Records.

“Who fired is not the question,” Palal said. Prosecutors haven't argued that Davis pulled the trigger, but instead that he was criminally responsible because he provided the gun and ordered the attack.

Palal also argued the shooting was premeditated, pointing to testimony and Davis’ accounts that the group searched for Shakur before spotting him on the road and making a U-turn. “It’s a plan, not an impulse,” Palal said.

Davis' own words are front and center

Palal held up Davis’ 2019 memoir, “Compton Street Legend,” and played an interview in which Davis encouraged people to buy it to get the “real truth.” Although the book contains a disclaimer saying some facts were changed, Palal argued that names, hotels and other details changed while the central account did not.

Palal also rejected the defense’s contention that Davis fabricated his accounts to make money. “It is an entirely different proposition to be profiting from a murder,” Palal said. “And that is what Mr. Davis is doing.”

Sanft also turned to his client’s memoir during his closing argument. While reading an excerpt, he said the N-word aloud, prompting people watching in an overflow courtroom to recoil and shake their heads.

In multiple interviews, Davis said he handed the gun to the back seat, but in others as well as in his book, Davis wouldn’t say who pulled the trigger.

In a rebuttal argument, prosecutor Marc DiGiacomo pointed to a scrapbook Davis kept containing articles about Shakur.

“This guy's scrapbooking his murder, for God's sake,” DiGiacomo told jurors.

The prosecution's witnesses included a gang expert who described Davis as the shot caller that younger gang members had to obey. Sanft asked jurors if there was any evidence that Davis had ever called the shots before or after the shooting.

During the trial, investigators said a Las Vegas hotel bill was found at Davis’ residence during a police search, but it wasn’t clear when it was dated — or where that evidence is currently located.

The case is nearly 30 years old, which has affected the kind of evidence presented in court. Prosecutors warned jurors that material collected in the ’90s is different from what law enforcement collects today, including hotel surveillance video from the night of the shooting.

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Landrum Jr. reported from Los Angeles. Associated Press journalist Rio Yamat contributed to this report from Las Vegas.