
Featured articles
Food & Drink
Food & Drink
Food News
Featured articles
Arts & Culture
Everything SD
Everything SD
Featured articles
Things to Do
Things to Do
Everything SD
Featured articles
podcast-ep
podcast-ep
podcast-ep
Featured articles
Everything SD
Everything SD
Food & Drink
Featured articles
Arts & Culture
Everything SD
Partner content
Ready to know more about San Diego?
SubscribeReady to know more about San Diego?
This is the first expansion for Rincon Reservation Road, SoCal’s first Native American–owned brewery on tribal land
3R Brewing – main
San Diego’s newest tasting room is Rincon Reservation Road Brewery’s first expansion, just steps away from the sand in Ocean Beach. The coastal location wasn’t accidental, says Ruth-Ann Rodriguez Thorn, board chair for the Rincon Economic Development Corporation:
“We felt Ocean Beach was appropriate because it is where we, as Indigenous people, would travel from the coast to the mountains.”
The fact that they’re expanding while the pandemic is ongoing is one sign of how well Rincon Reservation Road Brewery (“3R Brewery” for short) has thrived since its inception as Southern California’s first Native American–owned brewery on tribal land. When asked how she would describe the past year, Thorn says it’s been “exciting, challenging, and innovative.” Requirements like social distancing forced the brewery to add an outdoor beer garden to their Valley Center flagship last summer, and it’s now a permanent feature. Thorn goes on to say that new accounts carrying their beer, such as Costco, Sprouts, and Whole Foods, have allowed the brewery’s reach to expand beyond tribal land and their initial consumer base of mostly locals and tourists visiting Southern California casinos.
3R Brewing Mural
Part of these positive shifts can be attributed to Matt Dale, who joined the 3R team as the new head brewer in summer 2020 after the previous brewer, Shawn Steele, departed to take over operations at Thorn Brewing Company. 3R Brewery’s Thorn says that Dale has been a great asset to the company, and that their goal of implementing an apprenticeship program to train tribal members as brewers remains a priority for the Rincon Band of Luiseño Indians: “It’s a long-term goal, because brewing beer is an art and takes years to master.”
November is Native American Heritage Month—the same month 3R’s Ocean Beach location is slated to open. Thorn says guests can expect Indigenous food to pair with Indigenous beer, much of which is brewed with locally sourced plants and other ingredients. Even the tasting room art reflects 3R’s investment in supporting Native American culture: they will unveil a mural by Joe Hopkins, a citizen of the Muscogee Nation, during the grand opening.
“Traveling from inland to the shores not only to admire the beauty but to take in the Indigenous culture from a visual perspective that honors them, this mural is a celebration of who they are, where they come from and who they are today,” Hopkins said in a recent press release. Thorn also notes they’re on the lookout for additional staff for the 3,000-square-foot Ocean Beach tasting room, as well as for their original brewery next to Harrah’s Resort SoCal. (Tribal membership is not a requirement for employment.)
Now with increased distribution and a new tasting room, 3R Brewery isn’t likely to rest on their laurels. “As the First People, we would love to take more territory,” Thorn laughs. “We will start with this offsite brewery and see where it leads.”
4836 Newport Avenue, Ocean Beach
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.
Offering everything from smashburgers to sundaes, the latest food hall from Tiger Hospitality opens its doors this weekend
Omakase and fixed-price menus are one way hospitality businesses are addressing our collective food decision-making fatigue. But on the opposite end of the spectrum, some restaurateurs are offering a bonanza of totally unrelated options for people ordering on a whim. Why not pair a lobster grilled cheese sandwich, açaí bowl, and ridiculously loaded hot dog?
Starting June 27, diners can satisfy their spur-of-the-moment appetites at Global Fork in Little Italy, the latest food hall from Southern California-based Tiger Hospitality.
Six different food concepts will be featured in the 4,685-square-foot, indoor-outdoor space along the Piazza della Famiglia promenade. The space’s inaugural lineup includes a mix of Tiger Hospitality-owned concepts (Cosmos Burger, La Vida, Lobster Lab, and Prik Ki Nu Thai) and outside operators (Seattle-based Moto Pizza and Handel’s Homemade Ice Cream). The space next door, Good Enough Cocktail Club, is another Tiger-backed brand, operated by the team behind Same Same and Amor y Magia in Carlsbad.
Cosmos Burger serves smashburgers stacked with classic toppings, while Lobster Lab focuses on seafood favorites including lobster rolls, shrimp rolls, and lobster mac n’ cheese. Prik Ki Nu Thai adds Thai street food to the mix, with traditional noodle, rice, and stir-fry dishes. And for those looking for something on the lighter side, La Vida offers things like smoothies, salads, and wraps.

Moto Pizza focuses on Detroit-style square pizza with Filipino influences and, despite the name, is not affiliated with Mr. Moto Pizza. Handel’s, which began in Ohio in 1945, will offer dozens of flavors ranging from staples like chocolate and vanilla to rotating specialties packed with candies, cookies, and other mix-ins. (Handel’s already has a number of locations across San Diego, with a La Mesa store coming later this year.)
Some of these vendors already operate at Miramar Food Hall, the other Tiger-owned food hall in San Clemente. And some of them will also appear in Station8, the next food hall slated to open in UC San Diego’s Theatre District Living and Learning Neighborhood later this fall. But if you ask me, reviving the space that housed the Little Italy Food Hall before its closure last February is a far better outcome than leaving empty suites smack in the middle of an area saturated with fantastic food options. Plus, where else can you order a slice of beef adobo pizza alongside squares of caviar toast and a banana split?
Global Fork opens June 27 at 550 W. Date Street, Suite B, in Little Italy. Initial operating hours are from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m., seven days a week, but vendor hours may differ.

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.
How the now iconic rating system became the biggest name in the food and how it made its way to our backyard
So, Michelin chose San Diego to host its annual awards show this week. Big thing for our city, which people wrote off as the flaccid mozzarella stick or the “fish tacos bro” of California food culture.
Michelin Guide is a pretty fascinating story. It started as a marketing brochure for a tire company and evolved into the strongest global marketing platform for restaurant culture in history.
In 1900, there were less than 3,000 cars in all of France. André and Édouard Michelin were trying to sell tires. A niche market. If people drove more, they figured, tires would go bald faster. They’d sell more rubber.
So they published a guidebook with maps, gas stations, mechanics, hotels, restaurants, and travel advice. The “How to Go Bald” book with food as the bait. By the 1920s, people were buying the guide just for the restaurant recs.
In 1926, Michelin introduced stars. This changes everything.
Originally just one. Five years later, it expanded to three. One meant “very good restaurant.” Two meant “worth a detour.” Three stars meant “worth a special journey.” In other words, wear those tires down to a nub in search of Dover sole.

By WWII, Michelin was the gold standard guide to French food. And French food was the gold standard for western food. Which was half the world.
Michelin first came to the US in 2005.
New York only.
(Knicks in five).
In 2007, San Francisco. Then LA and Vegas in 2008.
Michelin stopped publishing in LA and Vegas after two years and stayed dark until 2019.
Major theories for this?
First, print is expensive. I can attest. ROI on a printed story is hard.
Second, people wanted local critics, and they were finding them online.
Third, Michelin landed like a stuffed shirt in LA, which had taco carts in its heart. LA swiped hard left.
Then Michelin discovered a new way to fund what it does. Instead of trying to sell enough books to justify the cost (inspectors, printing, restaurant bills, etc.), it had tourism marketing districts pay for inspectors to come analyze their cities or states.
Tourism marketing districts are massive organizations whose primary goal is to sing the priases of their cities and states—attract tourists, who pay for hotels and spend money in the city. Heads in beds.
The first to swipe its credit card was California, which paid $600,000 in 2019 for Michelin to come back to LA, Orange County, Monterey, Sacramento, Santa Barbara, and… San Diego.
It’s an overwhelmingly positive thing, which is never without its doubters and critics.
Namely, not everyone is down with the pay for play model.
The biggest reason is that it means cities without big tourism budgets get left out. Chefs in those cities are chefs non grata in the eyes of Michelin. Which is a fair complaint, though also, sadly or not, kind of how capitalism works.
Michelin isn’t a government organization, or a nonprofit culinary organization. It’s a publicly traded company with real bills to pay and investors and shareholders to answer to.
Since it feels like a tad of a PR dilemma for Michelin, I have a proposal that may or may not work.
What if Michelin took a portion of the money it receives from larger cities and used it to fund its expansion into an underserved city or state that can’t afford it? Bake it into the price it charges California or any other state.
Again, Michelin’s not obligated to do this; there is no penalty beyond the paper cuts of public sentiment. But that sort of pay-it-forward model could help other cities without the resources to play the game, while simultaneously making Michelin’s reach bigger and more holistic.
Second, people claim this TMD-funded model somehow taints the winners.
I don’t buy that at all. All tourism boards are doing is paying a marketing business (Michelin) to come operate in their city. They’re not telling Michelin which restaurants to choose for awards. As I understand it, Michelin has retained independence, and its inspectors only award restaurants that they feel are absolutely worth it based on merit.
True pay for play would be if a restaurant group paid Michelin in exchange for a star. Or if tourism boards had a say in which restaurants received attention or awards.
I haven’t found any proof of that happening, and so I won’t ding the validity of the awards until (and if) I ever do.
All tourism boards can control is which areas they’re willing to pay to have analyzed. For instance, San Diego could technically ask that only the city be analyzed and not the county. Which it did not, most likely because Visit San Diego (our TMD) is in charge of marketing the entire county (and thus why Michelin stars like Jeune et Jolie, Lilo, and Addison are outside of SD city limits).
So, if you’re dead set on criticizing Michelin, I’m not sold yet on the pay-for-play model being the right route.
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 creator of Mission Hills' iconic topiary garden hoped future owners would preserve the living artwork she spent decades cultivating
Edna Harper asked for one thing before she died: that the next owner of her iconic Mission Hills home keep the street-facing “garden.” Which is essentially asking the future residents to be curators of a whimsical and obsessive, delightful and strange, classic, cartoony and slightly unhinged sculpture museum. Harper, who died in January at the age of 87, poured her heart into this topiary bonanza, and it’s right there for everyone to see.
Like thousands (or millions, there’s no formal estimation) of others, I had scrolled through the photos of this topiary fantasia before I ever stood in front of it. As of this writing, Harper’s Topiary Garden is No. 227 of 2,686 Things to Do in San Diego on Tripadvisor, making it a popular tourist stop between fish tacos, a day at the beach, and a stroll in nearby Presidio Park. But crowdsourced photos quickly snapped in direct overhead sunlight tend to flatten the shapes that, while meticulously manicured, refuse to behave. In person, Harper’s figures seem to be in motion and, given that they’re sculpted out of bushes, they literally are. (I’d love to see a maintenance timelapse.)
Animals emerge out of shrubs as if they have impish ideas. A fanciful whale, a man in a sombrero, a random spiral twisting skyward, otherworldly creatures that defy categorization—all of these exist together in a neatly trimmed cascade pouring down the steep front slope of the property.
You don’t accidentally end up with a yard like this. You decide to create it and choose to cultivate it, and then you keep deciding and cultivating—for decades.
Although a consistent parade of looky-loos have visited over the years, most have never been inside the home, which is on the market for the first time since Harper and her husband, Alex (who died in 2020), bought it in 1969.

“It was and is a landmark,” says Christopher Delgado, Harper’s cousin and trustee of her estate. “She specialized in Chinese brush art and Japanese art called ‘sumi-e,’ a form of Zen art. She was a creator … she was very, very talented.”
I can’t stop thinking about Harper, sitting at the kitchen window, looking down at her masterpiece and the watchers watching it. The image of Harper enjoying the joy the public took from her handiwork makes me want to understand the woman behind the work. Because topiary, as an art form, has always been a little… loaded.
Topiary has always had a bit of an identity crisis—and that’s part of its charm.
When I think of topiary, I immediately think: Fancy. French bourgeoisie. Palace of Versailles. Mais non! Topiary has its origins in Rome. According to the Center for Architecture, the word “topiary” has its origins in late 16th century English, which combines the Greek word “topos” for place and the Latin word “topiarius” for ornamental gardner.

Topiary started as a flex, really. A Julius-Caesar-adjacent pastime for the most ancient one-percenters; an expression accessible only to those with land, labor (or, put more plainly, enslaved people), and spare time. In its earliest form, topiary was about control: bending nature into submission. It’s where symmetry and precision signaled order, taste, and money.
But with the collapse of the Roman Empire and the Dark Ages that followed, the topiary almost preceded the Dodo Bird in extinction. Monks quietly kept the art alive by growing herbs and manicuring the gardens and hedges within the courtyards of their monasteries.
It wasn’t until the Renaissance nine centuries later when topiary saw a resurgence—ah, Versailles!—and this form of pleasure gardening went into overdrive. Nature became architecture. The French pruned their foliage into iconic cones and obelisks, walls to keep out the riffraff, and ornamentation designed to impress. The Dutch got a little freaky, as they do, and sculpted complicated figures, animals, and even furniture.
Inevitably, the pendulum swung again, and topiary fell out of favor once it became viewed as excessive and even absurd. Even so, it never really disappeared. It just migrated to exist in a completely different paradigm. It was less Versailles and more, “What if this bush were a mouse?”
Fast forward to Disneyland in 1963. That year, the park opened a topiary garden in Fantasyland with verdant sculptures of giraffes, camels, elephants, and hippos all inspired by Denmark’s Tivoli Gardens.
Disney’s interpretation of topiary—which is still a fixture of park decor today—falls more into the realm of imagination and possibility than restrained aristocratic performance.
That’s one of the stranger throughlines of topiary: It moves from elite to everyday, from stiff and formal to playful and silly, from symbol of control to something steeped in personal expression.
Which is what makes a place like Harper’s Topiary Garden so compelling and the woman behind it utterly intriguing.

Born in 1938, Edna Harper was something of a Renaissance woman. She worked for two decades as a dental assistant, and she later became a notable painter, calligrapher, and stained glass artist (the house itself is adorned with her work). But she was also savvy in other ways.
“She graduated [with a degree in dental assisting] from San Diego City College and wanted to have her own money and her independence,” says Delgado. “Most people didn’t know that she was such a great businessperson, and for many years, she managed all of [the couple’s] properties on her own. She was great at building relationships … she touched a lot of people’s lives.”
Her friend and fellow artist Julie Roth attributes her artistry to her relationship with Harper. The pair met two decades ago at an art class at Oasis in Mission Valley.
“She was just the most encouraging person,” Roth says. “I didn’t know I could paint, but apparently I can. She was a tremendous person.”
I asked Roth what she’d want people to know about her friend.
“Her empathy and diplomacy,” she says. “[She had] a sharp eye for other talent. She spotted me, but I’m not the only one she encouraged.”
That sharp eye suggests attention, the same kind it takes to look at a bush and also see a whale. Or a spiral. Or something that doesn’t exist yet, but could.

Nothing about Harper’s life suggests someone chasing attention. And yet, she ended up creating something that demanded hers, and she took great pleasure in seeing people enjoy her creations.
The garden didn’t happen all at once. It grew out of years of travel, observation, and collaboration. Harper often traveled without her husband, always returning from trips to Japan, Thailand, and other parts of Asia with ideas and impressions captured through sketches in a notebook.
“She would get creative ideas from her travels … she’d come back with ideas and pictures, and they’d go about cutting that topiary bush into shape,” Delgado says.
For the past 25 years, she had the help of her gardener, Pedro Duran—who’s still employed by the trust and has maintained the garden since Harper’s passing.
In the early topiary years, Harper worked closely with Duran in what Delgado describes as a kind of shared “labor of love.” She would share her sketches and together the pair would shape the bushes into something deliberate.

“As she got older, she would increasingly draw her ideas and [Duran] would [carry them out],” Delgado says.
That collaboration reinforces that her garden was not an act of control, but one of creative collaboration and translation. From memory to sketch. From sketch to shrub. From something seen, somewhere else in the world, to something rooted in the soil of a steep hillside in Mission Hills.
Harper also made sure that the lawn’s boisterous energy made its way into the house on Union Street. Apparently, she threw legendary parties.
“Fairly regularly, in the late ’70s and ’80s, she would host Super Bowl parties with 200 people. She had TVs everywhere,” Delgado says.
It’s not hard to square that image with the stillness of the garden which, despite the careful pruning and intentional design, is voluminous and nearly vibrating.
And, damnit, I wish I’d watched some sportsball on her shocking number of TVs and wandered out front to the topiary—slightly wine-drunk with an orange smear of wing sauce on the corner of my mouth—to marvel at the leafy hippo and this woman’s elaborately creative life.

I can hear Delgado smiling as we talk on the phone. He’s going back to his childhood, when he talks about being one of the cousins Harper doted on when he visited.
“The adults were inside, and we’d be out in the camper,” he says, “and [Harper] would come check on us, make sure we were okay. She always had gifts for us. If it was Easter, there were chocolate eggs. If it was Christmas, stockings. We were the beneficiaries of them not having kids because they showered us with all their love.”
Knowing this and taking a look at her garden again, you can see it’s not the work of a shut-away curmudgeon. It’s wondrous, inviting, and the right kind of weird.
“Ultimately, she did it for herself and family, first and foremost,” Delgado says of Harper’s Topiary Garden.
Harper’s one request of whomever buys her home may seem like a focus on basic maintenance, about hedges and upkeep and preserving something visually striking. But it’s really about attention. And maybe, too, about legacy. Not hers, per se, but the legacy of community, relationships, art, creativity, possibility, adventure, culture, dedication, and love.
For now, it’s there for anyone to see, and its future is in the hands of whomever comes next.
Stake Chophouse & Bar brings contemporary classics and old-school service to the heart of Coronado
Stake Chophouse & Bar isn’t your average steakhouse. Blue Bridge Hospitality’s Coronado outpost is a modern interpretation of a big-city steakhouse nestled in the heart of the small coastal community. The team at Stake has reimagined the whole steakhouse experience. By prioritizing a seasonal farm-to-table sourcing philosophy, a personalized guest experience, and unique service touches, like a formal steak presentation and a bespoke knife selection process, Stake distinguishes itself in a sea of steakhouses.
Exceptional steaks, including Wagyu from Japan, Australia, and the U.S., and fresh seafood flown in daily form the core of Stake’s culinary identity. The menu features a five-course omakase-style steak experience highlighting house favorites, plus an array of cuts, and classic steakhouse staples—think a wedge salad, baked potato, or pasta carbonara—refined for a contemporary palate without losing their traditional appeal. Stake focuses on seasonal sourcing from the region’s best family farms and specialty purveyors, and incorporates intentionally unexpected touches to create something truly unique.
“I challenge our chefs and myself to take it a step further in sourcing,” says Chef Ronnie Schwandt. “It’s important to us to highlight different farms, unique one-off farms—whether it’s cattle, strawberries, a local fisherman or from anywhere in the United States, we’re always trying to find that niche.”
Beyond the menu, Stake emphasizes outstanding service, says Vinny Spatafore, Director of Hospitality Operations. Staff maintains detailed notes, allowing them to remember guests by name, recall previous orders such as a favorite martini (also memorable for the customer since it’s served in an extra tall, distinctly-shaped glass), and celebrate special occasions like birthdays and anniversaries.
“When you have those points of topic that you remember about a guest, they appreciate that,” he says. “Our servers are really good with that—we have a couple servers who have been here since the beginning and they’ll remember somebody from years ago, their name, their kids’ names, where they live. I’m really thankful to have a great front of house staff.”
Award-winning wines, rare whiskeys, special events, and a complementary black car service that provides transportation for guests throughout Coronado add to Stake’s appeal.
Schwandt stresses that Stake offers more than a meal; they aim to give patrons something unforgettable.
“It starts when you walk up the stairs and are greeted by the hostess—that sets the tone for the night. Then you’re greeted by a server, who may know you by name, and can guide you through the menu and curate as they get to know you,” says Schwandt. “Most people leave kind of blown away; they leave feeling like they just had an experience. That’s the goal, right? Whether you’re serving smash burgers or high-end steak, you want somebody to leave thinking, Wow, that was awesome.”
The restaurants and people behind the fastest sold-out event in San Diego Magazine’s history
The Sapporo Omakase Open is upon us. The event that sold out faster than any in San Diego Magazine’s history. The birth of another tradition.
The idea was simple: partner with the city’s preeminent force in Asian business and culture (the Convoy District) and the longest-running Japanese brewer in the world (Sapporo, founded 1876). Then bring together some of our favorite chefs and food and drink people who specialize in Asian delicacies—sushi, pho, xiao long baos, mochi, musubi, sake, tea, you name it—to shine a light on who they are and the delicious things they create.
There will be a friendly competition, judged by everyone in attendance and a panel of food experts, including longtime Food Network judge (and SDM co-owner) Troy Johnson. Winners will be named and trophied and exalted.
But moreover, SDM and its partners—Snake Oil Cocktail Co, Rivian, Del Mar Wine & Food Festival, and Komé Collective—believe in building local culture will bring together a room full of people to eat, drink, commune, and celebrate those who make San Diego’s food and drink culture hum.
Here is your guide to the restaurants, chefs, and people cooking and creating at the inaugural Sapporo Omakase Open:

The OG. Dumpling Inn & Shanghai Saloon started in a tinier strip-mall space, famous for Shanghai-style comfort food like jellyfish salad and xiao long baos (XLBs, aka soup dumplings). It became so loved that they took over the giant anchor spot on Convoy (a former iconic Chinese grocery store, which also helped launch Convoy into the pan-Asian food wonderland its become). Its menu is vast, but the dumplings are the legend—with fresh dough rolled each morning, a rounded pocket of porky goodness and a gush of broth. Celebrating 10 years in its massive space (and 32 years overall), the Inn’s XLB comforts everything in its path.
This is the family-run spot in Convoy for seafood boils, brought to you by the owners of one of the city’s top restaurants, Kingfisher. Crab Hut is their OG idea from owners Ky Phan, sister Kim, and brother in law Quan Le. It’s a love note to their childhood home and family tradition where they grew up in Vietnam. Behind their house was a river. The Phans would fish during the day, and sit around the communal table boiling up the day’s haul at night. There’s the “Bucket for One” filled with snow crab clusters, shrimp, crawfish, mussels, clams, corn on the cob, potatoes, and andouille sausages. There’s the “Go to Town” boil overflowing with everything previously mentioned, plus king crab legs and a glorious Dungeness crab. The most delicious kind of mess.
Lumi by Akira Back is led by world-renowned Korean-American chef Akira Back—the ex-pro snowboarder turned Michelin-star, best known for Dosa in Seoul, Yellowtail in Vegas, and this rooftop sushi-plus concept in the Gaslamp. Overlooking Fifth Ave, it’s serious food with a little party in its heart. Along with a serious sushi program, there are dishes like his Japanese-inspired take on pizza (a tuna carpaccio + ponzu mayo idea) or the miso pork belly kimchee chaufa. Want the full show? Order the Nano 9, Lumi’s Signature Mystery Box, a limited nine-piece omakase sushi course unveiled tableside in an ornate carrier leaking fog all over the place. Keep going big (but refined) with Mist of Kyoto, a cocktail-for-two experience—Knob Creek Barrel Rye, Mizunara liqueur, Japanese sweet vermouth, and black walnut bitters, served in a ceremonial tea pot with two equally ceremonious cups.
This concept was inevitable. Ayaka Ito first came onto San Diego’s restaurant scene in 2016 with Beshock Ramen in East Village. The ramen is fantastic, but the place was unique in that it was one of the city’s first portals into the craft of world-class sake. Ito is a kikizakeshi—essentially a certified sake sommelier or master. Sake Bar GAGA is her sake tasting bar in East Village, a 10-seater destination that takes guests on an omakase-style journey of around 20 sakes, hand selected by Ito. For the food, she and chef Ryan Miller collaborated on tapas-style bites with Marie Chiba, a certified sake samurai (one of the few in the world) and owner of Tokyo’s famous sake bar, Eureka. When you choose your dishes—like the blue cheese ham katsu, scallop mango tartar, A5 Wagyu Nigiri, konbu-aged red snapper, snow crab croquettes, you name it—the bar customizes your sake to each food.
San Diego’s largest oceanfront rooftop, hovering above the beach-culture pandemonium at Belmont Park. With a qualification like that, Cannonball could serve gas station sushi and mid boat drinks and be just fine. But local restaurant group Eat. Drink. Sleep (JRDN, The Lakehouse) and chef Luis Romero have made sure the seafood lives up to the view—with over 30 sushi creations, apps like bluefin tostadas with aguachile negro, baked blue crab dip with sriracha honey—plus entrees like a ribeye in uni butter and miso black cod. Watching the daily mix of tanned, parrot-wielding locals, Fit gym body-bods, and tourists is a show in and of itself, made even more enjoyable with a Lychee Lychee—vodka, nigori sake, yuzu liqueur, and lychee syrup.
Hard to call him underrated, since he won best dish at Del Mar Wine + Food Festival last year. But chef Ethan Yang’s Glass Box still deserves more. The restaurant is an attraction in and of itself—encased in a giant glass cube inside the Sky Deck at Del Mar Highlands. Yang and his chefs are on display, slicing top-notch fatty toro or premium wagyu filet. He offers a 10 to 15 course omakase experience, and the bar brings classics like a Toki Old Fashioned (Suntori Toki, bitters, orange) and modern plays like a Matchatini.
Cooking. That’s what chef Stevan Novoa’s ikegi is; a Japanese word meaning “reason for being.” A military veteran with 13-plus years of experience in kitchens across the coast of California and Mexico, Novoa has cooked most styles that make the region hum—and developed a deep appreciation for local farmers, fishermen, and ingredient people. Ikegi by Chef Stevan Novoa is his private chef concept, curating tasting menus that span the gamut (coastal California, Mexican, Japanese izakaya) for people in their favorite space: their home.
Few things in life are more affirming than light, fluffy dough balls stuffed with cream and baked to perfection. South Korea native and New York art-student-turned-baker Kelly Kim specializes in classic choux au craquelin—the oversized French cream puffs baked with a slender cookie disc that melts across the top during baking. At Mon Chourie, she starts with her mom’s recipe, then tweaks with seasonal, global flavors—often in collaboration with other local makers. Like the recent pandan mango ice cream choux with indie San Diego-based ice cream brand, Amor. Or a peach oolong tea choux—silky oolong tea-infused cream, peach compote inside that twice-baked, light-as-atmosphere pastry dough. She pops up on Wednesdays at local bakery Michi Michi, plus other spots in town.
A restaurant within a restaurant from the family who owns Crab Hut and Kingfisher. Pho is all about the broth and the lengths you’re willing to go for it. At Phở Gà Go, the whole idea is to take the quality of broth they have at Kingfisher—one of food critic Troy Johnson’s “Top Five Restaurants in San Diego”—and serve it in a more casual setting. Chicken bones are simmered for over 12 hours with the highest-possible ingredients (including heirloom garlic from the famed Christopher Ranch in Gilroy), resulting in a broth that’ll send the slightest throat tickle or sniffle scampering away like a frightened little puppy. They also specialize in chả giò—Vietnamese imperial rolls that are in the realm of Chinese-American egg rolls, but ineffably lighter thanks to using rice flour instead of wheat dough—stuffed with pork, shrimp, taro, wood ear mushroom, carrots, and mung bean noodles.
In early-2000s San Diego, the next generation of sushi chefs were largely trained in two spots: Sushi Ota, or Roppongi Restaurant & Lounge. First opened in 1998, Roppongi was the Japanese-inspired standout from restaurateur Sami Ladeki, who had made his name with Sammy’s Woodfired Pizza but was blown away by the food culture in Roppongi, Japan. La Jollans cried multiples when it closed in 2015, and relentlessly bugged Ladeki to bring it back. So he did exactly that last year with chef Alfie Szeprethy. They supercharged the design of the space, and rebirthed some of the classics—like the Polynesian crab stack, Mongolian duck quesadilla, the Roppongi Roll (tempura shrimp, unagi, spicy toro), and the Japanese hot rock (thinly sliced steak sizzling on a smooth stone with chili ponzu, sesame goma sauce, and cucumber sunomono). Welcome back.
Jeff Roberto is a low-key, laidback icon of sushi in San Diego. At any event, if you spot a surprisingly elaborate sushi case and setup and a couple of itamaes wielding blow-torches or breaking down an entire tuna—that’s Roberto and his Sushi On a Roll. He’s been one of the city’s premier sushi caterers since 1993 (when he started, there were only seven sushi restaurants in the city)—a powerhouse on wheels offers everything from sushi making workshops and classes. When a few US presidents needed sushi, Roberto got the call. His arsenal at this point includes over 1,000 sushi options. But moreover, he’s the warm, smiling attraction at any party that involves high-quality fish in the nude.
Hard to decide if Sweet Vibe is a viral dessert shop or a highly popular newish entry in tea culture, which runs deep in Convoy. Their cakes have somewhat stolen the buzz, with Thai milk tea cake, taromisu (taro + tiramisu), yuzu cheesecake, sea salt Oreo, etc. They’re also cute as hell, with their bearamisu (a tiramisu with a bear on it) and mousses shaped like French bulldog pups. But its drinks are the core of the menu, with vibrant fruit and milk teas (green Thai lemon, uji matcha foam with jasmine milk, lychee lemon, iced peach oolong), yogurts with Crystal boba, and fruit slushes (mango pomelo, strawberry milk, pink lychee)—all with adjustable sugar and ice levels and boba add-ons.
It’s a sandwich. It’s nigiri. No, it’s musubi. For all the SPAM skeptics, we urge you to honor the deeply Hawaiian and Japanese tradition and witness the charms of a warm, handheld block of sticky rice with a thick slab of teriyaki-glazed canned meat wrapped in nori. Those who have either been raised in the arts or converted tend to exude a higher than expected life happiness. This Musubi Love, a Leucadia musubi speakeasy (you heard us right), focuses exclusively on the minor food religion. The MEHKO (Micro Enterprise Home Kitchen) from founder Roger Post serves classics, plus riffs like the Cordon Bleu-Subi made with panko-fried SPAM, shredded rotisserie chicken, swiss cheese and Bachan’s Japanese BBQ sauce. Or the Dawn Patrol with SPAM, egg, bacon, cheddar cheese and spicy mayo. If you’re still not convinced, the fried BBQ chicken tender musubi or the crispy BBQ tempura shrimp musubi might change your mind.
It’s the pastry hybrid that everyone who values their mouth should have seen coming. Mochi is having a true uprising in San Diego. Most people know the Japanese specialty from the mochi-covered ice cream found in boxes at various grocery stores, but artisanal mochi comes in many, far more interesting forms. Like donuts. Mochi donuts have that crispy-fried traditional donut exterior, but the chewy-soft, rice-flour soul in the middle. Mochichi in Encinitas—a startup from SDSU grad Beth Kass—specializes in them. Base flavors include creme brulee, strawberry glaze, ube Oreo, churro, an Nutella, but she customizes on request and whim. She also serves an ube float and a Vietnamese coffee float because, well, that should clearly exist.
One of One combines creative seasonal drinks, ethical sourcing, and Filipino-American roots to stand out in San Diego's crowded cafe scene
In a city overflowing with cortados, ceremonial-grade matcha, and ambitious coffee startups, standing out isn’t easy. It’s even harder when your business doesn’t have a fixed address. That’s the challenge (and increasingly, the appeal) of One of One.
The Filipino-American coffee and matcha pop-up concept is the work of Kristin Cleavinger, a San Diego native who spent nearly a decade working in the Los Angeles specialty coffee business before returning home to build a concept of her own. The business takes its name from Cleavinger’s grandfather Gregorio Magnaye Bolor, who immigrated from the Philippines to the United States in the 1970s with almost nothing, but managed to build a life for him as well as his descendants.
It’s that sense of grit, perseverance, and identity that Cleavinger says fueled her to build One of One. “Throughout my time in specialty coffee, I was really curious about Filipino representation, because that wasn’t something that I saw,” she explains. She began to research coffee from the Philippines, but considering the island nation only produces about 0.25 percent of the world’s largest producer, Brazil, there wasn’t much to find.
Instead, she turned inward, drawing from her family’s history and her own Filipina-American identity to build something personal. “To me, this really is a way to honor my family’s legacy—my nanay, Maria Nieves Bolor, and my tatay Gregorio.”

For her drinks, Cleavinger never uses refined sugars, and syrups are made in-house from organic and regenerative ingredients. The Summer Peach latte, the current seasonal special, layers Ceylon cinnamon, unrefined cane sugar, Maldon sea salt, and ripe yellow peaches for a riff on one of summer’s most glorious treats: peach cobbler. Another new drink is Mint Chip, inspired by Thrifty ice cream with a fresh mint syrup, dark cocoa powder, and chocolate chunks with a base of either espresso or hojicha (roasted Japanese green tea with a mild, sweet, earthy flavor and lower caffeine content than other green teas).
Other crowd pleasers include the signature Neapolitan latte, which is inspired by childhood memories of her family using Neapolitan ice cream to create pan de sal ice cream sandwiches. She layers housemade organic strawberry syrup, Madagascar vanilla bean-infused oat milk, and dark cocoa-swirled espresso for a tricolored beverage experience that she recommends sipping before stirring to taste each layer on its own merit.
Past specials have ventured deeper into Filipino flavors, like a turon-inspired latte using jackfruit and banana; another was a coconut pandan matcha made with organic coconut water and topped with a pandan matcha cream.

The sourcing decisions behind these drinks are equally deliberate. Coffee comes from Boondocks, a Filipino-owned LA roaster whose founder is originally from National City. Its current offering, the Galleon blend, combines beans from southern Luzon in the Philippines with Chiapas, Mexico—a nod to the communities woven into San Diego’s own cross-border identity. Matcha is sourced through Este, a local San Diego company that works directly with producers in Mie Prefecture, Japan.
Every supplier is chosen for value alignment as much as quality—Boondocks’ current blend, for example, directly supports women-owned farms. “Each person has the power to choose where they want to put their dollar,” Cleavinger says.
You can catch her at regularly scheduled pop-ups at places like Olivewood Gardens in National City (every third Saturday), Ayi in South Park’s Summer Series (every Saturday morning in June), and on regular rotation at Home Ec and Best Bud Floral in Kensington. (More dates are listed on Instagram as well.) Cleavinger says she does have plans to launch a brick-and-mortar shop in the future, ideally with an expanded beverage menu, space for art shows, and a community gathering place for local and Filipino-owned makers.
In a crowded field of coffee concepts, One of One shows that a memorable drink can do more than wake you up. It can tell you something about the person behind the idea—who they are, where they’re from, and where they’re going next.
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.
SeaWorld dazzles with a drone show, big-name entertainers, new animal adventures and more
Nights are heating up at SeaWorld San Diego. The quintessential summertime staple on Mission Bay is transforming into a destination for unforgettable day-to-night adventures, bringing back some of its most popular Summer Nights programming and introducing exciting new experiences sure to delight both kids and adults alike.

The 2026 Summer Day to Night at SeaWorld San Diego is the park’s most ambitious season yet. SeaWorld has planned a highly anticipated entertainment lineup that features nine weeks of throwback concerts featuring R&B and hip‑hop favorites from the ‘90s and early 2000s, including Jordin Sparks, Too $hort and Warren G, Ashanti, and an array of boy band heartthrobs performing together as part of the Pop 2000 Tour.
New this season is perhaps the park’s most visible update: a nightly drone show, Ocean of Dreams, which illuminates the sky with hundreds of synchronized sparklers. Drones form sea otters, sharks, dolphins, and a majestic orca that tell a breathtaking 12-minute story of marine life and underwater ecosystems. The show culminates with a spectacular electric neon finale celebrating hope, wonder, and ocean stewardship.
Nighttime visitors are also in store for animal adventures that fuse education with high-energy fun and the dreamy ambiance of nighttime. The park has launched two all-new animal presentations: Shamu’s Celebration: Light Up the Night and Dolphins: Touch the Sky. Shamu’s Celebration: Light Up the Night features vibrant lighting, music, and dynamic choreography that celebrates the power and beauty of killer whales. Dolphins: Touch the Sky showcases playful bottlenose dolphins and the special connection between humans and the natural world. And back by popular demand is fan-favorite Sea Lions Tonite. See the charming pinnipeds splash, play, and parody pop culture in this refreshed crowd-pleaser.

More must-sees: a newly reimagined Shark Encounter, one of the country’s more immersive exhibits highlighting 11 different species up close, SeaWorld’s beloved BMX Blast! stunt show, and high-seas escapade, Pirates Ahoy! The Battle for Mermaid Cove. And don’t miss the park’s all-new Deep Sea Disco, which encourages guests to dance the night away under the glow of the SkyTower, and vibrant closing time laser light display Laser Reef Summer Spectacular.
Amp up the nighttime vibe with local craft beers, curated cocktails, and nostalgic theme park treats with $1 beer all summer long. SeaWorld is the place for day to night summer fun. When the sun goes down, SeaWorld lights up, and inspires guests of all ages to embrace their inner whimsy and see why generations of San Diegans head to SeaWorld to make memories they’ll never forget.