
Featured articles
Food & Drink
Food & Drink
Food & Drink
Featured articles
Everything SD
Everything SD
Everything SD
Featured articles
Things to Do
Things to Do
Things to Do
Featured articles
podcast-ep
podcast-ep
video
Featured articles
Everything SD
Everything SD
Everything SD
Featured articles
Food & Drink
Food & Drink
Ready to know more about San Diego?
SubscribeReady to know more about San Diego?
The results of food writer Troy Johnson’s quest for the Louisiana legend
Hot chicken sandwiches are currently the trendiest food on the planet. Every place serves one—your favorite bistro, Jack in the Box, Enterprise Rent-a-Car. They’re fantastic. But the idea isn’t new. If a deep-fried protein in a sauce with a spicy kick sounds familiar, that’s because it stems from another Southern classic: the po’boy.
The po’boy is picket line food, of humble and egalitarian origins. The first one probably included hot beef, nothing deep-fried. But as it evolved through the years, it became the stage that showcased the dirty-sweet magic that hot oil performs on flour-coated foods. It doesn’t make us skinny, but it’s pretty hard to care when that crispy-fried shrimp is swimming in some remoulade sauce down the joy highway of your gullet. Just throw a little turmeric over your shoulder and sniff a salad now and then, and you’ll be fine.
For the last two weeks I’ve trekked across San Diego County in search of the best po’boy—from strip malls in Oceanside and Lincoln Park and Solana Beach to little shops in North Park and downtown to a business park in Tierrasanta. And these are my favorites, ones I’d recommend to people I like. I reiterate this now and always: I do not presume this list to be the end-all, nor the be-all. I don’t build altars of my own opinions, and I don’t eat with your mouth.
These lists are mere vehicles for me to get to know and tell the stories of the food and drink people in San Diego, jotting down my favorite things along the way. Like the story of how a No. 2 pencil predicted the success of Ron Suel of Shotcaller Street Soul Food, and the lifelong pursuit of Pete, of Pete’s Seafood and Sandwich, in North Park. The lists are my way of exploring the city, shining a little light on local people working their duffs off to create a food scene, whether that’s the duo behind Cane Patch in Liberty Station, or even the locals running a small, quality chain location (gasp!) of Fish District in Solana Beach.
I urge you to kick the tires on them yourself, add ones I missed, make your own list, and argue spiritedly. Support your local people.
A note on process: I made an initial list based on my own experiences of chasing food across San Diego for the last 12 years. Then I did internet research, put the call out to San Diego Magazine readers, and ask social media to chime in. I was able to narrow the list down to 13 places, and drove all over the county trying them all. Fried shrimp is not the only option in po’boyland, but for my search, I made a point of asking every restaurant their recommendation as to their best—and almost every single one pointed to that crustacean sea comma. So I did as I was told.
This was my favorite of the hunt. First, Pete uses Baja shrimp, plump and moist. Second, the dredge on his perfectly browned crust (the color of a Florida retiree) is seasoned perfectly and is both crispy and light (he imports special flour from the East Coast for this reason). But the remoulade steals the show. It’s based on a cherry pepper relish puree, a flavor combo famous in East Coast fish shops.
3382 30th Street, North Park
Alligator Po’Boy at Cane Patch Kitchen
The key to a good po’boy is not to get diet-conscious on the good people of America. French bread—the classic and, some diehards will tell you, only bread for a real po’boy—has some thickness to it. Too little sauce, and your mouth feels like a sponge left out in the sun for a few days. (Originally, po’boy makers dug out the inside of the bread, leaving just the crust, so you didn’t have this problem. But in the ones I tried, at least, no one is digging out anything.) Cane Patch shows no sauce mercy, zig-zagging remoulade and ranch across bits of deep-fried alligator (like a stringy, but not dry, chicken) with pickles and tomatoes and shredded lettuce.
Liberty Public Market, 2820 Historic Decatur Road, Point Loma
You really should read the story of Ron Suel, who, along with his partner Ravae Smith, managed to turn a failed donut concept into a soul food success story in San Diego. Their po’boy wins by doing the classic, simple things well. First of all, they start with Leidenheimer French bread. (Leidenheimer is a legendary bakery of po’boy culture in Louisiana.) Their shrimp is lightly fried and loaded on, but it’s that comeback sauce and the pickles that give it a real nice, generous zing to offset the deep-fry. This one’s harmony.
220 Euclid Avenue, Lincoln Park
Spicy Fried Shrimp Po’Boy at H Brothers
If you like things a little spicier, H Brothers in Escondido—a stylish little space with craft beer from Nick and Justin Hedayati, the brothers whose family also runs Chicken Plus—is the spot. The fried shrimp has a crackling, formidable crust on it, set off with the spicy remoulade and hyper-vibrant tomatoes that pop. (A downfall of some po’boys is watery commodity tomatoes.)
212 East Grand Avenue, Escondido
The Fried Shrimp Po’Boy at Fish District
I’m sure someone will light me up for including a chain (Fish District is a small, San Diego–based chain with six locations across SoCal). But ignoring chains seems like a precious pursuit, and one that leaves holes in any hunt for the best. I’m sure no single mom-and-pop shop would say, “My sandwich is good as long as you don’t compare it to that place with multiple locations.” Anyway, the one thing you’ve got to have nailed before expanding is quality control, and Fish District’s is high quality. Good bread, well seasoned, plump shrimp, thick-cut tomatoes, a solid remoulade, and here’s their little trick—long-cut pickles so you get some of that sharp acid in every bite.
665 San Rodolfo Drive, Solana Beach
Chef Bud Deslatte worked his way through restaurants in Louisiana and Atlanta before bringing Southern food to San Diego in 2008 with Bud’s Louisiana Cafe. He sold the original and now has this little shop with partner Rob Adams. Theirs is a classic—flash-fried shrimp, shredded lettuce, tomato, remoulade—an example of someone with deep Southern roots paying homage to the rules that work.
815 F Street, East Village
Bud’s Louisiana Cafe
New owners carry on the tradition set by Deslatte with this Southern staple in a business park in Tierrasanta (it’s a nice little oasis, with a patio). They’ve got a bevy of po’boys, but the nice woman on the phone (she’s also very nice in person, real warm hospitality here, even during a pandemic) said I had to go shrimp. And it’s a solid, classic entry.
4320 Viewridge Avenue, Tierrasanta
Pete’s Seafood and Sandwich
James Tran
Troy Johnson is the magazine’s award-winning food writer and humorist, and a long-standing expert on Food Network. His work has been featured on NatGeo, Travel Channel, NPR, and in Food Matters, a textbook of the best American food writing.
The University Heights eatery will close September 7 for a multi-month renovation and rebrand
Ten years ago, restaurant design centered around sleek minimalism. Fonts lacked serifs, clean lines dominated, and any manufacturer that made globe-shaped chandeliers must have made an absolute killing.
Things have changed since then, and Jeff Fink says it’s time for Madison on Park to glow up. On September 7, Madison will temporarily close its doors for a top-to-bottom renovation of the space and concept. Fink hopes to reopen this fall ahead of the busy holiday season, with a new look he calls moody mid-century maximalism.
“We have to take into consideration what’s going on culturally,” he says. When Madison first opened, TikTok wasn’t a thing in the U.S. and craft cocktails felt relatively cutting-edge. Today, he sees a resurgence in the vintage look, handmade goods, and low-to-no ABV drinks dominating menus everywhere.

Fink and his partner Matt Sieve have already dabbled with that sort of motif at Sonny’s Pizza, their Brooklyn-inspired joint around the corner. Fully half of the cocktail menu is made up of spritzes, mocktails, and Negronis. Madison 2.0 will take it further.
The new concept doesn’t have a name yet—Fink says they have to feel out the vibes as they make progress with the design. “The name comes when you see it appear,” he says. But he has a few design elements in mind: things like more artwork and more uplighting. “Not cluttered and overstuffed… I want to keep it intimate, sexy, and immersive.”
Madison rightly earned its rep as one of the best-dressed eateries in San Diego, nabbing an Orchid Award for interior design its first year. The returning designers Anna and David Sindelar originally transformed the space from weird padded walls and fake greenery at Lei Lounge into a mid-century modern wonderland, complete with a signature arched ceiling and geometric patterns aplenty. Michelin-recognized chef Mario Cassineri (Ciccia Osteria, Bice Ristorante) built a menu heavy on Mediterranean flavors mixed with California classics.
The new menu shouldn’t feel completely jarring, but will take cues from Fink’s recent travels in Spain with his family. Expect shareable plates with lighter ingredients. “Americans eat way too much, and our portions are way too big,” he says. “I like the idea of smaller plates, healthier plates, and being creative… I’d rather see 15 items on the menu that are all less than $20 so that I can try different ones.” Bar manager Danny Kuehner will continue developing craft cocktails and mocktails for the new venture, as well as curating a selection of wine from Europe and locally.

This isn’t the only project on their plate. Besides running Sonny’s in University Heights and Madi in Normal Heights, later this fall, Fink and Sieve will also open Josie’s, a modern all-day, Midwestern-style diner inspired by Sieve’s Minnesota roots. Like all their restaurants, it’ll hold a special part of their families’ legacies—something Fink hopes people feel as soon as they enter.
“You walk into Sonny’s, you’re like ‘Oh, Jeff’s at home,’” Fink laughs. “[Josies’] will be ‘Matt’s at home.’” The next version of Madison? We’ll have to wait and see.
Madison on Park will temporarily close on September 7 until October (barring any unexpected delays). Keep up with the newest updates on Madison’s Instagram.
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.
Sinner Buns is building a following for its slow-made, seriously gooey weekend treats
When I was pregnant, my food craving was singular and intense. If I didn’t eat at least one thing doused in cinnamon every day (ideally, more than one), I was—to put it gently—a complete monster.
Since then, my obsession has tempered somewhat. But cinnamon buns still perch high on my top treats list, so I’m always on the lookout for the next great place to indulge. IMO, The Huddle in Mission Hills’ mondo cinnamon roll remains top-tier, but after eyeing the ooey, gooey goodies from Sinner Buns, we might have a contender.
Originally from Ukraine, Daria Nadar had already done everything one can do at a bakery—business operations, wholesale contracts, actually baking, you name it—so during the pandemic, she started dabbling with perfecting her cinnamon rolls. After she got a couple fans over social media, she threw her first pop-up to see how they’d be received. She sold out.
After a few false starts with a couple storefronts and business deals, Nadar officially launched Sinner Buns in October 2025 with her partner Filipe Pazi. After making it through an unexpectedly hectic season stuffed with holiday orders, the team closed temporarily to get everything in line and reopened this April. Business has remained in full swing ever since.
There are only so many ingredients in a cinnamon roll, but “the process is what makes it special,” she says, adding they use fresh yeast rather than powder and a 48-hour process for each batch of brioche dough made to order. (Thus the need for pre-orders.) Customers can preorder until Thursday each week for pickup Friday, Saturday, or Sunday from Sinner Buns’ ghost kitchen at 780 Hollister Street, just east of Imperial Beach.
You can also catch her at various pop-ups around San Diego, the next one taking place on Saturday, August 22 at Infusion Lab Coffee in Pacific Beach. Eventually, Nadar opens to offer nationwide shipping (once she figures out the logistics and quality control) and one day, her own storefront.
But it’ll be on her terms, not the whims of social media. “We already learned how to not only rely on virality of the product, because you go viral and then it fades,” she says. “It’s a slow burner, and I know eventually, it’s going to grow much more.”

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.
From her Rancho Peñasquitos kitchen, Yanira Majano is sharing family recipes through San Diego’s growing home-restaurant movement
When San Diego launched Micro Enterprise Home Kitchen Operations (MEHKO), it changed everything. Riverside County first established the experimental program in 2019, with San Diego introducing its own countywide pilot program in 2022 and granting it permanent status in 2024. The new category allowed people to launch at-home retail food operations—basically, home restaurants—with special requirements and restrictions to ensure food safety and smooth operations. Over two dozen counties across California have since adopted their own versions with over 1,200 permits issued, around 100 of them in San Diego alone.
Some have a dizzyingly long waitlist (Warung RieRie), others are still getting their name out there (The Hidden Gazebo Eatery), and still others use MEHKO for pickups rather than fully opening their home as an onsite dining facility. Love Pupusas falls into that category.
Yanira Majano came with her family from El Salvador to the United States when she was 11 years old, bringing a love of cooking and desire to share the country’s cuisine along with her. “There’s a lot of similarity [between Salvadoran food and] Central, South America, even Baja Mexico,” she says. Salvadoran cooking tends to be less spicy than some Mexican cuisines, with an emphasis on ingredients like corn, staples like yucca root (cassava), meats like crispy pork (chicharrón), and sides like curtido, a tangy cabbage slaw that’s typically either naturally fermented or vinegar-based.
And of course, the signature dish of El Salvador—pupusas.
In San Diego, Salvadoran food lacks the widespread availability of other Latin American cuisines like Mexican or Peruvian food, but Majano says she’s seen pupusas gain popularity over the past few years. But she likes to think her recipes, which have been passed down by her mother and kitchen partner Martha, contain a certain special something.
Some pupuserías use rice flour to create the handheld stuffed tortillas, but she prefers the more traditional gluten-free corn flour. Still, it’s what’s inside that really counts. “That’s where we put our own touch,” she explains. Most of Majano’s pupusas come with cheese and different fillings like carnitas, black beans, mushrooms, or zucchini, but she also offers vegan options. Every one comes with a side of curtido and salsa, each made fresh daily.
Showing people the magic of home-cooked food might not have been possible without the MEHKO program or The Cook Alliance, a MEHKO support and advocacy coalition. Opening a brick-and-mortar restaurant requires a huge amount of start-up capital—at least six figures, generally. Not exactly pocket change. “But when the MEHKO program started in 2022, I said, ‘Oh my God, this is for me,’” says Majano.
Now with four years under her belt, she says she’d love to bring Love Pupusas to more food festivals, host more pop-ups, and eventually open a food truck to keep serving the humble dish of her homeland, taking pride in every bite. “[I put] a lot of love in everything I do. You see it when you taste the food,” she promises.
Pre-order Love Pupusas for next day pickup in Rancho Peñasquitos between noon and 5 p.m.
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.
After two years of farmers markets and pop-ups, the San Diego baker is bringing its Korean-inspired pastries to University Heights
The folks at Kairoa Brewing Company must never be lonely. It seems like there’s always a local pop-up or event at the University Heights space, from Bincho Taco slinging Japanese coal-fired tacos on the rooftop patio every Tuesday to Yipao Coffee serving coffee from a window on the ground floor. Later this year, the New Zealand-inspired brewery will bring yet another resident into the fold—Mon Chourie is launching its first bakery counter service window along Park Blvd.
Mon Chourie owner and baker Kelly Kim first started selling her Korean-style cream puffs at farmers markets and places like Pizza Kaiju, Pho Ga Go, and Mixed Grounds, collaborating with a myriad of other makers (like Amor ice cream and Ming Oun’s) before nabbing a regular spot at Michi Michi Bakery every Wednesday. San Diego Magazine readers even voted Mon Chourie the Best Pop-Up for 2026.
In French, the word for an airy puff pastry is “choux,” which is pronounced generally the same way as “syu,” the Korean word for the same item. (Both sound like “shoe.”) Mon Chourie plays with both iterations with a dash of whimsy by referencing the song My Cherie Amour by Stevie Wonder, which translates to “my darling love.”
As long as all the permits and inspections move forward without issue, Mon Chourie should open in Kairoa before the busy holiday season. She’ll continue appearing every Wednesday at Michi Michi and other pop-ups in the meantime. Once open, expect best-selling flavors like the savory potato croquette (a collaboration with Karanchi chili crisp) and a sweet Dubai chocolate choux au craquelin, a version of puff pastry with a delicate cookie crust.
Classic cream puffs are fluffy, softs and often filled with custard cream in the United States. “What makes a difference for us is we use a very light version of diplomat cream, which is my mom’s recipe,” she explains. Diplomat cream is a lighter French pastry cream that uses whipped cream for a lighter, airier end result.
Choux au craquelin’s signature crunchy top comes from adding a thin disc of cookie-like dough on top of the pastry, which crackles as it bakes, leaving a thin layer of crispiness atop the final product. “It contrasts with the creamy, fluffy cream inside, so it gets that better, deeper texture experience,” she says.

Along with her popular cream puffs and her bite-sized “mini-choux” options, Kim is also planning on offering more of a newer-to-her item: salt bread, a rich butter pastry topped with sea salt that originated in Japan, but went completely viral in South Korea. There are a few places to get it in Los Angeles and New York, “but I know that a lot of people here are interested in trying out new stuff, or maybe they had it in Korea or Japan, and they came back, but they couldn’t find it anymore,” says Kim. At first, she didn’t really get why it was so popular. Then she tried it in South Korea earlier this year.
“I was in love,” she laughs. “This is what the hype is about.”
Ideally, Mon Chourie will eventually open its own storefront and introduce more events in North County to satisfy demand. “I would also love to have our own drink program that reflects what’s popular in Korea,” she says. And to mark two years of puffy pastry prosperity, Mon Chourie is throwing a two-year anniversary party at Easy Does It (5375 Kearny Villa Rd., Suite 112) on Wednesday, August 25 from 4 p.m. to 7 p.m. with drink specials like a misugaru latte (a Korean roasted multi-grain powder with espresso), a DJ, photo booths, special ceramic merch created by local ceramicist Whale Tran, and a few other vendors. Get there early.
Mon Chourie will open inside Kairoa Brewing Company by the end of 2026 and posts the next week’s schedule of upcoming events and pop-ups on Instagram every Monday.
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.
Bring home a taste of the city with local coffee, conchas, chili crisp, hot sauce, and other suitcase-worthy finds
Snacks are the best vacation souvenirs. You get all the novelty of having something to unwrap without any of the burden of keeping random crap around. I’m always game to try some chips from a place I can’t find on a map with ingredients I can’t identify by taste. Gimme that spice mix from that Southern barbecue pit whose wine list consists of light beers from lesser-known appellations. Don’t think I won’t lick the inside wrapper of some chocolate bar homemade by a grandma at a farmers market you stumbled upon in a small Midwestern town best known for giant yarn balls.
Even though San Diego is best known for our thigh-sized burritos, fish tacos, and craft beers, those travel about as well as room-temp mayo. So we gathered some of the city’s best food souvenirs: snacks, spices, and sauces worth sliding into your carry-on or gifting to a lucky out-of-towner.

Inside Bread & Salt—Barrio Logan’s old Weber Bread Factory turned into one of the city’s most vibrant art, culture, and community spaces—there’s a cafe in front of a giant, now-defunct bread mixer. Mexican-owned specialty brew shop and roastery Provecho! Coffee started as a pop-up in 2020, but its success quickly bricked-and-mortared. Although Provecho! specializes in sourcing and roasting Mexican coffees, its consistency is variety: The lineup changes regularly as Provecho! finds new sources around the world. Get a to-go taste via the coffee bags that range between 250 g and 2 kg.

Superlova!’s Chinese-inspired, seed oil–free sauces are grocery list mainstays for San Diegans. The sesame sauces (Dan Dan is spicy, May May is tame) pair with noodles, dumplings, or any meal that could use a little more oomph. They don’t have tahini, which is de-hulled; they have Chinese sesame paste, which is dark-roasted for a nuttier flavor and packed with fiber and calcium.

San Diego is known for beer, sure. But real locals pour from a different tap. JuneShine’s low-sugar, yet still refreshingly sweet, hard kombucha is an SD favorite. The brand has joined the canned cocktail tidal wave and now sells vodka mules, tequila palomas, and vodka sodas—all with about two shots per can, real juice, and sparkling water. But for a classic food gift, get a variety pack of the booch. Fit it into your checked bag. It’s worth it.

Double entendre is key to hot sauce brand Down To Ferment, aka DTF. (Popular sauces have flavor names like CornHub, Smokin’ Hot Date, and Ghosted.) But it’s no gimmick. The homemade, kombucha-based sauce is seriously good: DTF’s That’s What Shishito Said made it onto Season 30’s lineup on Internet-famous interview show Hot Ones.

As discussed, carne asada burritos travel about as well as a toddler with emotional-regulation issues. But the soul of a truly great, San Diego burrito? It’s not the fillings. It’s the tortilla. You can’t go wrong from any locally owned spots, but our favorites are Tortilleria Los Reyes in Vista, Windmill Farms Market in Del Cerro (which uses Pancho Villa’s old tortilla press), Esperanza’s Tortilleria in Escondido, and Tortilleria Lily in City Heights.

Handcrafted in small batches, Karanchi’s Sichuan peppercorn–packed chili oil comes in two varieties: original and spicy. The original warms your palate and adds depth to your meal, and the spicy is a form of mealtime masochism. Founder Nguyen Le’s favorite way to eat his garlic-studded chili crisp is on avocado toast—which makes an already San Diego meal even more San Diegan—but it’d make old shoes taste pretty good.
Fresh fish ranks low on society’s acceptable realms of carry-on items. But canned fresh fish straight from local fishermen? You’re the best part of a bruschetta. Every Saturday at the docks behind Seaport Village, fishermen step off their boats and sell what they caught as recently as that morning. While getting yourself some fresh sea urchin and squid, grab a couple cans of locally caught albacore tuna for the tinned-fish lover in your life.

Started as a pandemic baking hobby for BFFs Natalie Rodriguez and Lesly Mendoza, Tus Chefs is now a South County favorite spot for conchas with a twist. The menu is expansive enough to get over a baker’s dozen without any repeats—why not get one of each, anyway?—but if you only have enough space in your carry-on for a few, start with popular “chocolate abuelita,” churro, mazapan, horchata, and brownie conchas.
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.
Innovative treatment could offer cancer patients new options with fewer side effects
Chemotherapy and radiation have long been considered gold standards of cancer treatment, but they can cause severe side effects. A promising new approach called theranostics—a combination of “therapeutics” and “diagnostics”—could offer patients with certain types of metastatic cancers new hope. It’s a two-step process that uses a drug that binds to specific receptors on cancer cells. Advanced imaging detects this radioisotope, allowing doctors to then use a second radioisotope that binds to the cancer cells and destroys them. Click here to learn more about how specialists at Scripps Cancer Center are using theranostics.
For more nutrition, wellness, and healthy living tips, sign up for the San Diego Health newsletter here.