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SDM’s staff shouts out our favorite food finds from across the city
Once, the staff of SDM accidentally catered uncooked pasta to the office. We don’t have a stove, so there were many increasingly hangry attempts to microwave, air-fry, and YouTube-hack the stuff into palatability until we accepted defeat. It’s a piece of sad office lore that lives on alongside stories of incredible meals and legendary podcast guests—which is to say, food is serious and silly business here. These 15 dishes fête the wackiness (doctored-up Dr Pepper) and the wonder (a Michelin-approved seabass) of our local cuisine. Go get some.
The first Michelin guide in Mexico awarded six stars total, and Drew Deckman got two of them—one for each of his restaurants in Baja. His new place in North Park (a collab with Joe Musgrove) is a hyper-local, seasonal show of California and Mexico (mostly San Diego and Baja). This dish is essentially a seafood tartare, but with raw Baja oyster chopped and tossed with cubes of sushi-grade striped bass and topped with kaluga caviar and in-season puntarelle. Get Deckman’s chef’s counter experience—he’s got a massive food-nerd brain and loves to talk about each ingredient.
Ever wanted to guzzle a whole rose bouquet at 8 a.m.? No? Well, this latte from downtown café Miracle Potion will change your mind. It’s the ultimate spring reset—floral, earthy, and just caffeinated enough to revive me. I may have accidentally swallowed a rose petal, but my doctor says I’ll live. The color? So pretty, I thought I was getting a gender reveal order by mistake. What a delicious wake-up call in a cup.
A few weeks into my sober 2025, I finally emerged from hibernation for a night out with friends at Panama 66’s regular Wednesday night jazz sesh in Balboa Park. Of the three mocktails on the menu, the Reclining Buddha is everything I want in a drink, minus the booze: a bright mix of orange, lemon, pineapple, and orgeat, topped with dehydrated citrus and the ultimate mixer, ginger beer. One sip in, I wondered why I hadn’t ditched alcohol sooner.
One of the most famous Mexican chefs in the world—Enrique Olvera of Pujol and Cosme and a billion other restaurants—had chef Pancho Ibáñez as his right-hand man for years. Now Ibáñez and his wife, Daniela, are in La Jolla. He’s the chef and she’s the baker of Comedor Nishi, a breakfast and lunch spot in the former Coffee Cup location. It’s not fussy Michelin. It’s homestyle Mexican with a three-star chef’s touch. For this torta, he smashes a baguette down on slightly sweet, axiote-marinated pork and pickled red onion xnipec (an incredible Yucatan salsa).
Last year, I made my way through the French countryside devouring all the breads, cheeses, and wines I could—it was pure bliss. To help satisfy my Francophile cravings, I checked out Et Voilà! in North Park. Along with a robust wine list, the bistro serves homemade pastas, fresh-baked breads, French classics like escargot, and specials such as braised Angus beef short ribs made with garlic potato purée, smoked Brussels sprouts, kale chips, blackberry-bourbon reduction, and black truffles. C’est bon!
My first visit to Fort Oak in Mission Hills came with sky-high expectations after I heard endless praise for the roasted carrots, pork chops, and maple leaf duck. But the real highlight? The ahi tartare, a decadent mix of pickled onion, capers, crispy shallots, cured egg yolk, and smoked oyster mayo atop perfectly toasted brioche. The rich harmony of flavors had me questioning if other food has a taste or if my long Covid is finally cured.
I’m usually a sipper, not a chugger, but the second the “Beach, Please” (Dr Pepper, cherry syrup, vanilla cream) hit my hands at this newish outpost for coffee, cookies, and zhuzhed-up sodas in Point Loma, all dignity evaporated. Honestly? I get why that 106-year-old swore Dr Pepper was the key to immortality (Google it). In 90 years, that’s me—cookie in one hand, dirty soda in the other, cackling at the haters.
This new-ish, Sicilian-inspired spot in Kensington was packed and cacophonous when I snagged a table on a recent Friday night. (Don’t come here to catch up with an old friend. Do come to chit-chat and gossip without inhibition.) The spicy rigatoni vodka, which I topped with a hunk of burrata, was everything I dreamed it would be: zesty but not too hot, creamy but not too rich. The Goldilocks of pasta.
This smoothie’s electric-pink hue (courtesy dragon fruit, with banana, pineapple, coconut milk, and lime as back-up dancers) is eye-catching enough that a man in line cooed, “Ooh, so pretty” as it hit the counter at South Park’s Rad Habits. Plus, waiting for your order is fun here, since you can browse a vast selection of supplements and healthy alts to indulgent snacks (miso Rice Krispies treat, I’m coming back for you).
When this platter of chicken and beef kebabs, skewers, and shawarma arrived, my friends and I gazed in awe at the glorious heap of grilled and seasoned perfection. Within seconds, we tore into it, attempting (and probably failing) to maintain some semblance of manners at this unassuming Syrian gem in the heart of El Cajon’s Middle Eastern restaurant row.
Listen—it’s a fried chicken sandwich. Hard to go wrong here regardless, but if you, like me, are digging in after an accidental days-long protein deficit, a crispy sando at this laid-back, family-friendly brewery in South Park is going to hit like the first full day of vacation, especially with the sunny addition of pickled chilis. Go on a weekday during happy hour (3–6 p.m.) to add a lager for three bucks extra.
I’m a creature of habit, and gnocchi with pesto alla Genovese is my ultimate weakness. Bencotto in Little Italy nails it. The magic of this pesto lies in the generous use of pine nuts, which help emulsify the garlic, olive oil, and Parmigiano into a herby, viscous sauce rather than a dressing with odd chopped-up basil leaves merely suspended in oil.
A century ago, there was a stage actress known as San Diego’s Sweetheart—we traced her footprint through history, up to modern day
There was once an actress known as “San Diego’s Sweetheart” who mailed herself to Los Angeles—donning a helmet covered in postage stamps and boarding a two-seater, single-engine mail plane. The publicity stunt was billed as the first air parcel package in the US. It wasn’t. She wasn’t even the first human to be mailed: When the US parcel post started in 1913, at least seven people mailed their newborns to relatives (an innovative loophole eventually outlawed).
Technicalities be damned. That kind of nose for spectacle was why Virginia Brissac was such a star—landing bit parts in TV shows (I Love Lucy, Dragnet) and 155 films, notably playing James Dean’s grandmother in Rebel Without a Cause. “Nobody could help but love her,” her dresser told San Diego Magazine in a 1971 feature, published when Brissac was 88 years old.
In 1911, she topped the Playbill at the opening of the Savoy Theatre at 3rd and C streets in Downtown—a grand live-performance hall built for $150,000 ($5.2 million in today’s money). It became one of the premiere vaudeville theaters in the country (under vaudeville king Alexander Patages). The theater helped make San Diego a destination for stars like silent-film comedian Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle, heavyweight champ Jack Dempsey, plus classical legends Rachmaninoff and Anna Pavlova. As theaters converted to movie houses through the ’20s and ’30s, the Savoy remained dedicated to live humans. It closed in 1940, and the Civic Theater now stands in its footprint.
As for Brissac, during a time when women couldn’t even vote, she led a stock company under her own name at the Strand Theatre. The Brissac Company held a four-year residency, “an all-time successful record run for San Diego,” the article says. That classic Ocean Beach theater (featured in San Diego film legend Cameron Crowe’s Almost Famous) has been closed for decades, its bones now a chain beachwear and souvenir store. But Brissac’s legacy lives through the women leading San Diego’s theater scene.
Read the entire 1971 article by Merle Clayton below…
Emma Veidt is an editor at San Diego Magazine. She earned her bachelor's and master's degrees from the Missouri School of Journalism. She loves running, hiking, and rock climbing, but really, she mostly loves encounters with the street cats around North Park.
The new Hawaiian- and Japanese-inspired cafe will serve locally caught bluefin, fresh spring rolls, housemade sauces, and plenty of matcha
Not all monsters have to be scary. In fact, entrepreneur Pinyada “Ada” Primpray’s is delightful. Sea Monster, a small cafe that will serve poke bowls, fresh spring rolls, and matcha, will open in Mission Valley by the end of the year.
“The concept is a Hawaiian- and Japanese-style cafe,” Primpray explains. She calls it Sea Monster in homage to her friend’s popular restaurant Big Monster Sushi & Thai in Hawaii, but “the idea really started to take shape after I came back from a solo trip to Italy,” she says. The experience inspired her to start her own concept that mixed her culture, experience, and passion for food.
Sea Monster will be her first restaurant as an owner, but Primpray has worked in restaurants for 15 years in places like Kauai, Chicago, New York, and San Diego. She realized a similar health-conscious, seafood-forward, quick-service restaurant could work here, especially in that corner of Mission Valley where pizza and burgers reign. Plus, she points to the massive development plans for the area—between Riverwalk bringing thousands of new homes to the area and even more coming from San Diego State University, there are lots of new locals looming on the horizon.
She brought on Head Chef Wasu Gibb Palipote from Sushisamba in Los Angeles to develop the menu and signature sauces, like ink wasabi and a larb sauce. “Every couple of months, we plan to introduce a new signature sauce created exclusively for Sea Monster by [Chef Palipote],” she says. All the sauces will be homemade, including a basil creamy sauce and sesame vinegar.
Sea Monster’s menu centers around fresh poke bowls—mostly locally-caught bluefin tuna and hamachi as well as salmon, served California-style rather than Hawaiian-style (the sauces are added to order rather than marinating on the fish, which can overpower its flavor). Toppings will range from the usual, like edamame and green onion, to upscale, like uni (sea urchin). She’ll also serve fresh salad rolls, a popular light snack in Vietnam and her native Thailand, with vegetables and seafood like salmon, shrimp, and imitation crab. Everything will be served to-go, although there will be very limited seating for people who want to dive in right away.
The matcha program will start small, with six iterations planned for opening and potentially more in the future. “I really want to have mango sticky rice,” she adds. Beyond adding items to the menu, Primpray says she hopes Sea Monster will be more than a restaurant. “I want it to grow into a lifestyle brand with its own little world,” she says, pointing to the restaurant’s mascot, Smoo. A monster with aspirations of growing bigger and bigger until it takes over? Yeah, sounds about right.
Sea Monster will open daily for lunch and dinner in late 2026 at 6110 Friars Road in Mission Valley.
Listen Now: The Latest in San Diego’s Food and Drink Scene
Have breaking news, exciting scoops, or great stories about new San Diego restaurants or the city’s food scene? Send your pitches to [email protected].
Beth Demmon is an award-winning writer and podcaster whose work regularly appears in national outlets and San Diego Magazine. Her first book, The Beer Lover's Guide to Cider, is now available. Find out more on bethdemmon.com.
Kuya Sharpens owner Joshua “Jhun” de Andres turned a meditative practice into a business caring for prized kitchen knives—one whetstone at a time
“A sharp knife is a safe knife,” says Joshua “Jhun” de Andres, owner of Kuya Sharpens. It only takes a light touch to guide a properly-sharpened knife, while dull knives require much more force to cut through an object, increasing the likelihood and severity of an injury. “If you slip, that’s a lot of force that is now going into your finger, your hand, and that’s where it becomes extremely dangerous.”
De Andres started sharpening knives as a meditative practice during a time of personal grief, a way to zone in on a task with a useful and satisfying outcome. “[It was a] reminder to myself that you can fix something that’s broken and give it purpose again.” Once he ran through his own collection of knives, he started asking friends and family if he could sharpen theirs. When he’d sharpened everyone’s knives he could think of, he started posting videos on TikTok, where his first professional chef customer found him: Chef Tanner Stanich, chef de cuisine at Michelin-recognized Bib Gourmand Mabel’s Gone Fishing.
“That’s when things really started to take off,” he laughs. He uses whetstones rather than motorized belt sanders to sharpen, which gives him the ability to make microadjustments during the process for a more customized and controlled result. Whetstones also preserve steel more efficiently than other mechanical processes, which are faster, but take off more of the knife’s edge in exchange, reducing the lifespan of the knife.
Learning how to master whetstones takes a lot of time and practice, and while de Andres specializes in sharpening Japanese knives, he’ll sharpen a knife from anywhere. “Every knife deserves to be sharp,” he says.
Japanese kitchen knives are designed for extremely specific purposes: there’s a knife to break down a fish (deba), cut through boneless raw fish for sushi and sashimi (yanagiba), slice vegetables (nakiri), carve meat (sujihiki), debone poultry (honesuki), and even knives only the executive chef can use (kiritsuke). Few other culinary cultures utilize such ultra-specialized tools, and Japanese steel is prized for its extreme hardness and ability to maintain a razor-thin edge for decades when properly cared for.
De Andres is still figuring out different ways to expand his business: hosting workshops at Home Ec on Adams Avenue, creating knife restoration tutorials, and launching private lessons, all while continuing to sharpen knives people bring to him or even send from across the country. And he knows that for both home cooks and professional chefs, sharpening a knife that may have cost hundreds of dollars on a whetstone can feel overwhelming. Will I ruin it? Will I break it?
“You’re most likely not going to break it,” he promises. “But you are going to make it yours, and you have to kind of be okay with that.” Knives age and change just like humans do. Sharpening is an essential part of maintenance, and shaving away the dull edges to restore a shine takes care. And de Andres cares a lot.
“It’s just been really life-giving to me,” he says. “I know it seems really silly that taking a knife and putting it on a whetstone can change your perspective on how you view the world, but for me, it came to me at a time when I needed it most.”
Listen Now: The Latest in San Diego’s Food and Drink Scene
Have breaking news, exciting scoops, or great stories about new San Diego restaurants or the city’s food scene? Send your pitches to [email protected].
Beth Demmon is an award-winning writer and podcaster whose work regularly appears in national outlets and San Diego Magazine. Her first book, The Beer Lover's Guide to Cider, is now available. Find out more on bethdemmon.com.
The 29-year-old culinary director at Herb & Sea is making seafood sexy (and approachable) again
Implementing a farm-to-table model hardly deserves acknowledgement these days. It’s not a stretch. It’s not innovative. “It’s the bare f**king minimum,” says Herb & Sea‘s executive chef Aidan Owens.
When I arrive at the Encinitas restaurant, I’m ready to talk sustainability, farm-to-table stuff, with Owens. “Did you see the chin on that?” he says of the extra big jiggly chin on the sheephead that just arrived with the day’s fresh catch. I did. It was Jay Leno adjacent.
I learn quickly that he somehow oozes both charm and stone-cold honesty. Maybe he could construct a new dish with chin goo, like he did when he had a bunch of tuna scraps and voila’d it into a smooth and crowd-pleasing ‘nduja. “I want to know what’s in there,” he says.
The instinct to look closer, to dig into what others might discard, says a lot about the chef’s approach. I guide him back to our topic, but he has something else on his mind. “We’re overcomplicating food—what happened to just cooking good food and having fun with it?”
Owens grew up on a farm in Byron Bay, Australia, where sustainability wasn’t a concept you chat about so much as a way of life. Think dirt roads, backyard chickens, pulling vegetables straight from the ground, and a mother who believed that if you couldn’t pronounce the ingredients on a package, you shouldn’t eat what was inside.
Food wasn’t precious or performative. Making it was what you did because you were hungry and that’s still what inspires Owens today. “I like to cook good food because I like to eat good food,” he says.
His approach to sustainability at Herb & Sea began so naturally that it felt just like instinct. “I was just like, ‘Let’s order food from the people who live and work here,’” he says.
And why wouldn’t he when lives in San Diego? Cities all over the world vie for our goods. Our tuna is sent overseas. Our spiny lobsters hit dinner plates in China and Japan. Not to mention California’s producing a third of the country’s vegetables and three-quarters of its fruits and nuts.
“Why would we outsource when it’s all here?” Owens asks.
Sustainability, in this context, is about cooking what exists in abundance, nearby, right now. “I love the local fish here. It’s f**king delicious and San Diego citrus, I mean, it is so f**ing good,” he says.
Instead of importing ingredients, Owens also looks for nearby alternatives. “You can find really cool things in the local waters,” he says, pointing out that stingray cheeks taste similar to scallops.
Whatever he finds in that sheephead chin might just be the next substitute for marrow. But to make this work, it means getting diners amped up about the slightly unfamiliar.
Tasting menus, where diners are completely in his hands, become an opportunity to gently push boundaries. “I’ll serve mackerel, because people think they hate it,” Owens says, noting that the abundant local fish can have some fishiness. “But when it’s fresh, it’s arguably one of the best fish in the ocean.”
He also tweaks the language on the menu so people might feel more compelled to give dishes a try without preconceived notions. He might use “lengua” instead of “tongue.” “Whelk” instead of “snail.” When he puts “stingray throat” on the menu, he disarmingly calls it “skate.”
To reduce waste, scraps aren’t always discarded but rather turned into something new. Sometimes they’re smoked, cured or fermented. Apples going bad turn into apple ponzu. Lemons turn to marmalade, which stretches their usefulness far beyond peak season. “And it’s super tasty on our pizza,” he says.
What makes the food even richer, is the relationships he’s built with farmers. Though it didn’t always feel natural, Owens sought personal connection first. He recalls approaching a fisherman at the Tuna Harbor Dockside Market. “I was awkward,” he says. “I went up to him and said, ‘I like your fish.’”
Owen’s is now so close to his suppliers—like fishermen Ryan Sebo and Joe Daly—that he gets texted pictures of fresh catches right as they flop on the boat. The messages always ask if he wants first dibs. “I say yes to a lot of fish,” Owens says, noting that Herb & Sea can go through 2,000 pounds of seafood a week.
The next evolution of sustainability, in his view, will be chefs working directly with producers such as his alliance with Sebo, cutting out middlemen and purveyors where possible. “It will put more money in the pockets of the people doing the work,” he says.
It will mean that chefs can’t just know their local farmers and producers, but they’ll choose to work with the ones who have the best practices. Dining and sustainability will become much less about the final plate. “It will be more about the impact that plate has on the Earth,” he says.
Ultimately, he believes sustainability doesn’t need to be loud. It doesn’t need hashtags. It just needs to be honest.
“We aren’t saving lives. We’re feeding people good food,” he says.
And yet, in feeding people well—simply, thoughtfully, responsibly—something meaningful happens. Guests leave satisfied. Ingredients are respected. Local ecosystems are supported and food returns to what it has always been at its core: nourishment, pleasure, and a quiet reflection of the place it comes from.
No buzzwords required.
Check out the stacked lineup of talent participating in this year’s celebration of food, cocktails, wellness, and SoCal energy
Tickets to the Del Mar Wine & Food Festival get you in the door. The real fun is figuring out who you’ll run into once you’re there. This year’s weeklong schedule of exclusive events, running September 30–October 4, includes dinners, tastings, and loosely-supervised chaos where celebrity chefs and local icons finally let their hair down.
The festival has a track record of the unexpected: Bryan Cranston and Aaron Paul once toasted their mezcal brand Dos Hombres with an intimate dinner at the Lodge at Torrey Pines (and then, evidently unsatisfied, kept drinking it on the cliffs above Blacks Beach with a rotating cast of San Diego and Food Network chefs. Alex Morgan showed up for a dinner under the lights honoring the country’s most badass women chefs). Drew Brees ran a celebrity pickleball tournament where the guy from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia got absolutely humbled by locals.
If you scored a ticket to last year’s Grand Tasting, you might’ve caught Guy Fieri doing exactly what Guy Fieri does: strolling the grass, signing t-shirts and foreheads, and hanging off the DJ surf van like it was built for him. Meanwhile, local chef Ethan Yang of Glass Box walked off with the Chef Competition surfboard.
So whether your plan for 2026 is to corner legendary San Diego chefs like Victor Jimenez of Cowboy Star and Jon Sloan of Juniper & Ivy in person, or just aim for a spontaneous golf cart ride with a Food Network star—here’s your cheat sheet for where to run into a celebrity chef, TV personality, award-winning winemaker, or pro athlete at this year’s Del Mar Wine & Food Festival.
Consider this your soft landing into festival week—the walk-around tasting that eases you in before things get chaotic later on. Monarch Ocean Pub hands its patio over to the flavors that define San Diego eating: Baja seafood done right, coastal bites, Mexican flavors with some heat behind them, all the staples locals will fight you over.
The celebrity sightings here lean more “bump into” than “spot from across the room.” Troy Johnson—Food Network judge, San Diego Magazine chief content officer and co-owner, Emmy-winning host, a man who has eaten his way across the entire country professionally—is the type to materialize at whichever station has the longest line, because he already knows it’s worth the wait. Ask him what he’s had so far. He’ll have opinions.
Then there’s celebrity pastry chef Karen Krasne, owner and executive pastry chef of Extraordinary Desserts, James Beard House alum, and a woman Forbes once ranked among the top 10 pastry chefs in the country—which tracks, because you might find her holding court next to a tray of her roasted pecan shortbread dipped in white chocolate, explaining exactly why this is the flavor combination. You will listen to every word, too, because you’ll want to try that cookie.
This is an opening night party where the person next to you in line might just be the one who baked the thing you’re about to eat.
Fifty years ago, a Napa Chardonnay beat France at its own game and rewrote what the world thought it knew about wine. This dinner is that legacy, poured by the family who built it, course by course.
Under the arches at Fairmont Grand Del Mar, Ernie Hahn and the Hahn family, who partnered with the Barretts to revive Chateau Montelena into the Napa powerhouse it is today, host an evening built entirely around the winery’s most iconic pours. Every course gets its own pairing straight from the Montelena portfolio, so you’re not just hearing about the Judgment of Paris, you’re tasting the wine that started it.
Chef Mawa McQueen, a former James Beard Best of the West winner out of Aspen, brings globally inspired cuisine and serious technique to the table. Alongside her, Fairmont Grand Del Mar’s executive chef Bryn McArthur leans into farm-to-table sensibility shaped by a career of global kitchens. Together they’re building a menu meant to hold its own against wine that already changed history once.
This is the rare dinner where the wine isn’t just accompanying the meal, it’s the reason the meal exists. Fifty years after Paris, the rematch is happening right here in Del Mar.
Isabella Dallas is a freelance writer for San Diego Magazine and the Arts and Culture Editor at The Daily Aztec in her final year at San Diego State University. She previously worked as an editorial intern for SDM, but when she’s not writing, you can find her trying the best coffee spots in SD, devouring the latest rom-coms, and indulging in anything and everything pop culture.
Surf’n Slaw founder Kumi Alexander is introducing local farmers market crowds to okonomiyaki, the savory Japanese pancake she grew up eating
After 15 years married, my husband and I tend to agree on most things. But there’s one argument we both refuse to bend on—I prefer okonomiyaki Osaka-style, and he’s a die-hard Hiroshima-style devotee. (To be fair, we both adore both styles, but at this point, it’s just fun to have a low-stakes disagreement.)
Okonomiyaki is one of Japan’s greatest comfort foods, a savory pancake that’s about the size of a DVD, if you aren’t too young to know what that is. It’s not terribly hard to make—it’s flour, eggs, dashi stock or water, and a whole heap of shredded cabbage, plus optional fillings like green onions, pork belly, or bonito flakes, all cooked fresh on a flat top griddle. Drizzle some kewpie mayo and okonomiyaki sauce on top, and you’re hot to go.
However, it’s not easy to make well, and as you now know, people have capital-O Opinions about Osaka-versus-Hiroshima. Hiroshima-style layers the ingredients one by one rather than mixing them together, adding a layer of soba or udon noodles and topping it all off with a fried egg. For Osaka-style, all the ingredients are mixed together and then cooked on the griddle, so every bite includes every ingredient in a hodgepodge of deliciousness. (One Osaka variation called modan-yaki does include soba noodles mixed in the batter, but they’re not traditionally used in that regional version.)
Despite a childhood spent in Osaka, Japan, Kumi Alexander specializes in making Hiroshima-style okonomiyaki. “Okonomiyaki has been part of my life for as long as I can remember,” she explains. “My parents ran their own business when I was growing up, so Saturdays were often busy, and okonomiyaki was one of my mother’s go-to lunches because it was simple and easy to make.”
Alexander came to San Diego seven years ago with a desire to bring a part of her culture with her—not just a product, but a feeling. “When I thought about what could do that, the answer was almost obvious: okonomiyaki,” she says.
She originally launched Surf’n Slaw as a mobile pop-up food stand in August 2025, offering what Alexander calls Japanese-meets-California okonomiyaki. “Our full Surf’n Slaw includes cabbage, noodles, umami dough, beef, shrimp, and vegetables,” she explains. The menu also has a “Green Wave Slaw,” an Osaka-style version that can be made vegan and gluten-free, as well as matcha drinks.
Currently, Surf’n Slaw pops up at farmers markets in North Park, Scripps Ranch, Hillcrest, La Jolla, and La Mesa, as well as other local markets and community events. Eventually, she may expand to a permanent location, but that’s a future goal. And while Alexander hopes that one day okonomiyaki will be as well-known to American audiences as ramen or sushi, for now, she’s just happy to share a bit of home with San Diego.
Listen Now: The Latest in San Diego’s Food and Drink Scene
Have breaking news, exciting scoops, or great stories about new San Diego restaurants or the city’s food scene? Send your pitches to [email protected].
Beth Demmon is an award-winning writer and podcaster whose work regularly appears in national outlets and San Diego Magazine. Her first book, The Beer Lover's Guide to Cider, is now available. Find out more on bethdemmon.com.
San Diego Magazine's Private School Guide 2026
NewBridge School is San Diego’s only school dedicated to the education of students with dyslexia and related learning profiles. For 30 years we have successfully served students with dyslexia, dysgraphia, dyscalculia, receptive/expressive language disorders, ADHD, executive functioning and memory deficits. Students transition successfully into academically rigorous high schools and colleges across the country. Why NewBridge? Training, training, training (plus intensive individualization, and comprehensive program design). All teachers are trained and retrained biennially in Orton-Gillingham, the only approach proven to remediate dyslexia based on Science of Reading research, and complete a year-long training program. Every aspect of our program is designed around our students’ learning styles and needs. Every class is taught by a highly-trained expert, and our Speech/Language and Occupational Therapy teams embed throughout the day. Our multisensory, multi-tiered math program has been developed in conjunction with sister schools and experts across the country. Don’t wait—early intervention is magic!
Enrollment: 100
Grades: K – 8
Tuition: $30,000
Deadline: Rolling
Gender: All-inclusive
Details Nonsectarian
Open House Tours by appointment
12285 Oak Knoll Road • Poway, California 92064
858-679-5744 • [email protected] • thenewbridgeschool.com
