You may have an inkling—based on this issue’s cover and editor’s note and general theme—that we, like all good and proud citizens of this fine city, are big taco fans. In fact, our simple goal here is to induce a multi-day taco bender of the 40 delicacies on display. But we do recognize that sometimes other cuisines call: pizza, classic American barbeque, sushi (albeit still with Mexican flavors), perhaps something sweet post-carnitas. Here are a handful of our favorite non-taco nibbles. Go get some.
Tako
Caballero Roll
My palate is pleasantly perplexed. Al pastor cooking took off in central Mexico in the 1930s when Lebanese immigrants brought sharwarma, and those techniques are now adding flavor to Japanese food in central San Diego. Old Town isn’t the first place that comes to mind for sushi, but the Caballero roll at Tako delivers a unique punch worthy of SD’s oldest ’hood. The al pastor–flavored tuna adds a distinct and powerful overtone to the Caballero, so it’s worth trying for the CDMX meets-Tokyo flavor remix alone. Pair with the Slow Dancing in a Burning Room—a spiced-up mezcal and blood orange cocktail that’s as much Instagram fodder as it is rich, leisurely libation—and you have yourself some cordially confounding cuisine. –Mateo Hoke
Smokin J’s BBQ
The Smokin’ J
Never trust a skinny smoker. If the barbecue mechanism looks like it exfoliates or is cleaned more than it’s cooked in, walk on by. It’s gotta have that black drool, like a train engine that’s been on a high-speed bender through primordial sludge to bring you dinner. The one in the Smokin J’s parking lot looks like it’s seen the proper amount of fights. A massive pile of wood at its feet. A couple shade tents. Brothers Josh and Jeremy George started selling barbeque at farmers markets and plopped down in Poway to have mercy on locals who just want a little bit of good food (I grew up in the area; this is a personal pain). The Smokin’ J sandwich—brisket, pork belly, slaw, toasted brioche—proves just how far the barbecue arts have come in San Diego. –Troy Johnson
Frost Me Cafe And Bakery
Pumpkin Muffin
In these final days of pumpkin spice season, it’s important to note a concerning trend in American society: Pumpkin spice life choices get too much flack; they are relentlessly mocked as a sign of stunted personal development. I don’t care if they start making pumpkin spice deodorants or if it becomes a presidential campaign platform—I will wholly, deeply support it all. Pumpkin spice is among the world’s greatest flavors. To that end, self-taught baker Audrey Hermes of Little Italy’s Frost Me makes a wonderful little pumpkin muffin, topped with oat crumble and powdered sugar. “It’s gluten-free,” she tells me as I eat the whole tiny thing in two bites. Gluten-free used to mean pleasure-free. It does not anymore. Not here. Oh, and Hermes won a season nine episode of Food Network’s Cupcake Wars (one of the best show names in television history). –Troy Johnson
TNT Pizza
Large Marge
There are moments in life when you realize that your college self would find you unforgivably lame—like when you’re eating a slice of pizza at TNT in the East Village after exactly two fancy craft cocktails and think, What a great spot for late-night bites!… only to realize the restaurant closes at 10 p.m. Whether you opt for TNT’s viral pickle pie (ranch; everything seasoning; dill; and, naturally, a motherlode of briny gherkins) or my favorite, the Large Marge (classic margherita toppings) with a crispy, square “Grandma”-style crust, the cheesy slices here are indulgent enough to make you feel young again. –Amelia Rodriguez
Ranch 45
“Meat Up” Pastrami Sandwich
Brandt Beef has long been one of the go-tos for the city’s top chefs for good reason—it’s a family run ranch with meat that’s drug-free, ethically raised, and about as local as you can find a herd of cattle (two hours east in Brawley). Its HQ is in Solana Beach, and, below it, chef DuVal Warner runs the restaurant-slash-showroom called Ranch 45. Prime cuts, dry-aging lockers, bone marrow, tallow—it’s the Saks Fifth Avenue of meat. Warner’s runaway hit on the menu is a bone-simple pastrami sandwich: Brandt brisket flat smoked for 18 hours. Duval spreads beef tallow on the flat top, warms the meat, and melts Swiss cheese on NY-style French bread with a little Dijon. –Troy Johnson
Raised By Wolves
Rain Check
Fruity concoctions don’t necessarily match the décor in this Gatsbian library lounge hidden behind a not-so-secret fireplace door inside a La Jolla mall liquor store, but this is SD, where tropical shirts fit within the bounds of funeral and church dress codes, so really, anything goes. With bitter and sweet balanced like twins on a teeter-totter, this bergamot-tinged amaro and fluffy orange juice fruit punch is a fine aperitif while you soak in the scene. –Mateo Hoke
PARTNER CONTENT
Piedra Santa
Empanada Trio
Piedra Santa, a new Argentine steakhouse that opened this spring in Little Italy, is a flashy addition to the city’s scene. Dry-aged tomahawks double as art—whether in the Himalayan-salt drying chamber at center stage or in the hands of a Victorian woman in a gilded frame behind the bar. While the marbled cuts steal the show, the empanada trio—pork chile verde, chicken Florentine, and beef paired with zesty chimichurri—is a worthwhile distraction from fawning over steaks with heftier pricetags. –Cole Novak
Maya Moon Collective
Chocolate Pistachio Cake
Do you really need an occasion to get chocolate cake? No, every day we find ourselves breathing on this miraculous planet is a day worthy of gratitude and celebration. And this cake is welcoming to all: A vegan, gluten-free, devilish little thing full of pistachio paste that’s richer than the Monopoly mascot, it’s ready to appease the most stubborn of chocolate longings. At $12, it’s an investment of an afternoon treat, but well worth it if you find yourself lethargic in Normal Heights. –Mateo Hoke
