Every neighborhood needs a few things—a good bar, a decent place to pray and launder sins, a store with paper goods, a park for bucket food and hyperactively reproductive families, a body of water to jump in, a dark box where young people play weird music, a legion of nonprofits, a villain, a healthy distrust of people who claim to know what a neighborhood needs, and a small restaurant like this.
A cozy room on a busy street corner that’s being loved more than it has in years. A soft light over some roasted bird in a sauce that beats what you’re able to make at home. A few wines you can’t find on aisle five. A place so intimate it feels like a dinner party, a nightly seance of the conversations we used to have before the remarkable little machines stole our time allotted for human connection.
Chef Itze Behar’s perch at the end of the room, where she can see the reactions on diners’ faces.
Photo Credit: James Tran
You don’t come to Black Radish for the parking, which is of the hunt-and-luck variety. You don’t come for the massive please-all menu (small kitchen, focused menu). You don’t come for sprawled-out acreage dining. Like neighborhood eateries in New York or San Francisco, tiny tables are packed so tight you might be tempted to chime in on a conversation next to you, or make the “you got a little sauce right here” motion as a gesture of unwanted goodwill.
You come to Black Radish for the food and the intimacy of strangers, the special buzz only achievable by forcible proximity with other lives. This corner in North Park was previously a bar that felt like a precursor to fights or crimes. (Neighborhoods need those, too). And now it is one of the most raved-about bistros in the city.
Photo Credit: James Tran
If you didn’t know owner John Welsh is an architect, you would know the owner was an architect. It’s in the distressed red brick wall, framing a large print of gold flakes, a splash of ersatz pinned on modest masonry (which kind of sums up Black Radish as a whole). It’s in the light fixtures descending from the ceiling like black roots (radish tendrils?) with tiny bulbs at their ends.
It’s in the dark baby blue velour banquette (the crayon people might call cottonwillow), leading to the dark baby blue wall, perfectly painted. That wall opens to reveal the restroom (their lavatory is a speakeasy). The door is bank-vault thick, a smart choice to soundproof your dining experience. It’s in the single pedestal in the middle of the room with a lonely-beautiful vase of flowers.
It’s in the glossy white subway tile that frames a golden-lit window where you can watch chef Itze Behar work in her tiny kitchen. A server stands poised next to that window like a royal guard, silently surveying the tiny room for needs. It’s a lovely space and, when full (it’s almost always full), one of the loudest restaurants in San Diego. If I am ever arrested in this space, it will be for impersonating a produce delivery guy and installing acoustic panels without abandon or permission.
Photo Credit: James Tran
Welsh and Behar first teamed up for The Tavern in Coronado, which feels more like a fancy, hip sports bar. Black Radish is more urban-residential fine dining. Behar was raised in Tijuana, a self-taught chef who clung to Thomas Keller cookbooks and first entered the business in 2000 as owner and chef of TJ restaurant, La Placita. So her food is Mexican heritage and French technique, like the pork belly marinated overnight in gooseberries, white wine, and aromatics, then roasted and served with gooseberry-pork jus, finished with house-pickled radish, orange, and house-fermented Fresno chile. Pork has a sweet tooth, and this satiates it nicely.
This woman’s love of tomatoes improves the lives of everyone who enters. Her tomato salad showcases six different tomatoes from four local farms: fresh Bolzano yellow and Early Girls, confit cherry Sungolds, a single fried green tomato, and a sorbet made from cherry reds. It’s finished with an Early Girl vinaigrette and a thin, almost refreshing Thai-spiced blue cheese dressing. It is… special, excellent, phenomenal. Tomatoes are San Diego’s dirt candy, and there may not be a dish that makes such a killer show of it.
Photo Credit: James Tran
Vegans are the beneficiaries of the other star here: a vegetable Napoleon that comes looking like a leaning tower of plant lasagna—its architecture made by multiple layers of grilled 8 Ball squash from JR Organics Farm, a San Marzano tomato sauce, garlic, and fresh basil. Each ring is spackled and separated with whipped almond ricotta, finished with balsamic and olive oil. Hard to eat this and not envision Ratatouille, particularly that moment when the soulless food critic takes a bite and remembers there is joy in life.
The chilled corn soup is fresh local kernels blended with lemon juice, buttermilk, and basil, topped with crispy-charred shallots for texture, fromage blanc for silkiness, and some confetti of pickled Fresnos for heat. The flavors are excellent. A few bites in, I pull a dental floss-length of corn silt, which might cause culinary-school teachers to fly into reality-TV rages, but is not worth the scorn of reasonable people.
There are a couple of things here and there that show the kitchen is mortal, like the duck breast. While delicious in a Champagne and sage-honey duck jus, the one requirement of duck cookery is rendering that fat into a perfect, almost-liquid state. Crispy skin over that silky rendered fat is the principal joy of the dish, the whole point. Underdone, it’s a chewier form of missed magic.
That dreamy pavlova with local berries.
Photo Credit: James Tran
The Snake River Farms Wagyu zabuton is a simple showoff, demonstrating that a quality cut of meat just needs a good char, some S&P, and a restrained amount of sauce to diversify the eating experience. Behar’s spicy herb bearnaise is drinkable, made from Chino Farm eggs, served next to roasted baby tomatoes so good they question the generally accepted supremacy of French fries in the world of spuds. Also, try her herb-brined pheasant.
A good brine can turn a mediocre protein into a special one, and a special protein (like this one, from MacFarlane Pheasant) into a recurring daydream. Hers is brined for 12 hours, roasted, and served with a peach jus that tastes like summer.
Meal’s end at Black Radish is all about the pavlova. When it comes to desserts, my gross generalization is that all humans fall into two camps: chocolate people and berries-and-cream people (who meet in the middle at creme brulee). I’m berries and cream to the core, and this is my catnip—French meringue, seasonal fruit puree, farmers market berries, finished with micro-basil.
This restaurant was reportedly a couple of years in the making, and—aside from the decibels of the feel-good ruckus—they made good on that time.
Photo Credit: James Tran
Photo Credit: James Tran
Chef Itze Behar’s dishes mix Mexican heritage with French technique. Order alacarteora four-course prix fixe for $79.
Photo Credit: James Tran
Photo Credit: James Tran
Lamps that look like black radish roots over a six-set bar nestled in the corner.
Photo Credit: James Tran
Come early. About the only time you’ll see available seats in the dining room.
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.
As a kid, Jacob Chen scrounged up whatever odd jobs he could—running lemonade stands, organizing garage sales, reselling appliances on Facebook Marketplace. But there was something about cooking that kept him coming back to the kitchen. “It started as a way for me to spend time with my mom,” he says. “In a way, I think it was inevitable that I would begin a food-based business.”
That business ended up being Made for MeiMei, a line of low-sugar, high protein and fiber mochi flavors like ube, matcha, red bean, black sesame, peanut butter and jelly, and chocolate hazelnut. “‘Mochi’ is derived from ‘mochigome,’ which is the special type of short grain rice that gives mochi its stretchy, chewy texture,” he explains. Traditionally served in Japan as a dessert to celebrate the new year (similar to bibingka in the Philippines and nian gao in China), American-style mochi tends to taste sweeter and often comes as mochi ice cream. However, Chen points out that wasn’t always the case.
Courtesy of Made for MeiMei
“Before mochi was synonymous with ice cream and refined sugar, it was simply a rice based snack filled with whole food ingredients,” he says. “That’s the version of mochi we’re trying to bring back.”
Made for MeiMei’s primary ingredients are rice flour and coconut milk, plus the featured ingredient for each flavor. But rather than using refined sugar, Chen sweetens his mochi with monk fruit and uses organic pumpkin seed protein and chicory root fiber to create what he calls “the first better-for-you mochi.”
Recent collaborations include a mochi-wrapped gelato with An’s Dry Cleaning, strawberry daifuku cream puff with Mon Chourie, and a funfetti chantilly cream dip mochi with The Clovery, but Chen has his sights set on retail expansion. Currently, Made for MeiMei products are available online, locally at Easy Does It Cafe, Bodega Market, or at upcoming events like Embolden Beer Company’s Taste of Shogun on September 27 (admission is free!) and a pop-up with Organic Oren on October 5.
Courtesy of Made for MeiMei
Besides being better for you nutritionally, Chen’s goal for the business is to also be better for the world. He’s worked in rehabilitation clinics and volunteered at San Quentin when he lived in Berkeley—experiences that transformed his worldview. “It really doesn’t take much to be on the other side of the fence,” he says. That’s why he donates portions of proceeds to organizations like Second Chance San Diego (which helps formerly incarcerated people find steady employment), Immigrant Defenders Law Center (a nonprofit deportation defense law firm), and Border Angels, an advocacy group working to reduce fatalities of people crossing the United States and Mexico border.
Chen has his sights aimed high, hoping to bring Made for MeiMei to more local grocery stores and cafes before hitting national retail shelves. Will he stop at mochi? Maybe not.
“There are so many childhood treats that could use an ingredient upgrade,” he says. “Mochi is just the beginning!”
Courtesy of Roppongi Restaurant & Lounge
San Diego Restaurant News & Events
Leave It Up To The Chefs at Roppongi
There’s no such thing as too much omakase, and we’re leaning in. On September 24, chef Davin Waite (The Plot, Wrench & Rodent) will join chef Mark Correa at Roppongi Restaurant & Lounge for a one-night-only, eight-course omakase experience with an optional (but personally recommended) beverage pairing curated by sommelier Humberto Ramirez. You definitely need to snap up a reservation for this one before they’re gone—and with a dream team like this, they will be gone.
Courtesy of Swells Sourdough Bakery
Beth’s Bites
Another weekend, another food festival—not that I’m complaining! On October 3, the 15th annual Taste of North Park hits the streets with over 50 tastings and 15 beverage stops awaiting your arrival. The event sells out every year (for real), thanks to participants like the newly opened One of Us, Falafel Heights, Finca, and many, many more. (Leave the parking stress at home—this is the ideal time to take advantage of the not-utilized-enough North Park parking garage.)
Swells Sourdough Bakery is movin’ on up—to Little Italy, that is. The farmers market favorite officially opens at 2254 India Street on October 1, but eager patrons can stop by during the soft opening starting September 26. Swimsuit season is over, people. It’s time to get our bagel on.
Longtime Point Loma watering hole Paradise Lounge & Grill is closing its doors, but only temporarily. I’m keeping an eye out for an official opening date, but the business has posted they hope by the end of September. Hopefully, it’ll be in time for the Padres to make the playoffs—manifestation!
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.
At Del Mar Wine & Food Festival’s Grand Tasting, the walk between food tents can take a while. You might stop to watch a chef competition, get pulled toward the DJ, or find yourself playing mini golf before you remember which bite you were after.
Across the Del Mar Polo Fields, there’s also line dancing, a 1961 red Beetle ready for photos, and an aviation-themed pop-up with Reno Tahoe chefs and mixologists. Need a slower stretch? Check out the wellness stops or browse the shops. Here’s what to look for as you make your way through the festival’s zones:
Courtesy of Del Mar Wine & Food Festival
VIP First Bites & First Sips
VIP ticket holders get a head start, with the VIP Reception running from 11:15 a.m. to 1 p.m. and serving first bites, first sips, and a few surprises before the Grand Tasting officially gets going. Champagne Telmont will make the festival’s first pour, while Cohn Restaurant Group brings carajillos alongside pours from Karl Strauss, Licor 43, Tap Truck San Diego, Bebemos Tequila, and Devil’s Grin Gin.
The bites are just as good. Celebrity chef Beau MacMillan will serve a first bite, while Warung RieRie is bringing one of its highly coveted dishes. Yes, this is the restaurant that currently has an eight-month waitlist. You’ll also find bites from The Shellfish Affair, The Waverly, Wolf in the Woods, Dora Ristorante, Cori Pastificio Trattoria, An’s Gelato, Pacific 333, Vintana, and more.
And because every good first act needs a soundtrack, there will be live painting and music, with Courtney Govan bringing live jazz to the reception. It’s the perfect opening act before the main event.
Live Cooking & Culinary Moments
During the VIP Reception, chefs Tommy Gomes and Jeff Roberto will conduct a live ahi cutting. Plant Paradise brings another culinary angle, with celebrity chef Zuliya Khawaja joining the plant-based lineup. The area combines chef talent with plant-forward restaurants and brands, giving guests a chance to see just how creative plant-based cooking can get.
Throughout the weekend, The Stage keeps the cooking demonstrations coming, with celebrities and chefs sharing techniques, recipes, and plenty of inspiration for anyone who plans to actually cook something when they get home. Before you know it, you’re watching a chef demo, casting your awards vote, and sipping mezcal on the grass with friends you just met in line.
Courtesy of Del Mar Wine & Food Festival
DJs, Music, & The Party
At the Grand Tasting, dancing just sort of… happens. A DJ drops the right song. Someone’s holding a taco in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. The country zone breaks into a two-step. Friends convince friends. Strangers become temporary dance partners. By the end of the day, everyone’s forgotten they were ever worried about looking cool.
DJ TENAX will be spinning in Plant Paradise, bringing house, techno, and UKG to an open-air dance floor that’s hard to leave. Chris Cantore, a veteran San Diego broadcaster, takes over the VIP Tent, while BootScootin Line Dance and PVO Events bring country-style line dancing to the Polo Fields, so you can work off your tasting itinerary one two-step at a time.
Then a live guitar hum in the distance leads you to a fuchsia boa over at the Pride Zone, where you’ll find yourself covered in sequins and having the lawn party of a lifetime.
Sports, Tailgates, & Games
Not every activity at the festival requires a tasting glass (although it’s certainly encouraged).
The Matchday Experience brings San Diego FC and San Diego Wave FC into the Grand Tasting, complete with interactive tents and plenty of game-day energy. Athletic Brewing is also sharing activation space with San Diego Wave FC, bringing a fun nonalcoholic option into the mix.
For golf fans, the Los Angeles Golf Club is bringing a Dryve Box golf simulator to the festival. And if your competitive streak is less fairway and more miniature windmill, SD Pop Up Mini Golf has you covered.
The Beach Zone gets in on the action, too, with surfing-inspired elements and Playavole paddle courts. Hemlock Hats and other California brands add to the coastal atmosphere, but the real draw is having somewhere to actually play. And don’t worry, you can cool down in COOLA’s turquoise beach chairs, too, and when your bestie suggests reapplying sunscreen, obviously you do. Basically, there are plenty of ways to work up an appetite between tastings.
Courtesy of Del Mar Wine & Food Festival
Photo Ops & Instagram Moments
You’re going to want to take photos, and the festival has made that extremely easy.
A Timeless Day is bringing multiple photo moments to the Grand Tasting, including a 1961 red Beetle at The Italian Getaway and a teal VW bus in The Beach Zone. For something a little more polished than the standard group selfie, head to the Locals Zone for Pixster Photo Booth and San Diego’s version of a Glam-Bot, complete with a grass red carpet.
Bebemos Tequila is also bringing back its festival-favorite hidden speakeasy. If there’s ever a time for a photo, it’s here. Otherwise, people might not believe you. The speakeasy serves bone marrow shots straight from the bone, with candlelight, a lounge area that makes it hard to believe you’re in a tent outside, and little orange shot glasses. This is “first slide of your festival photo dump” material.
You can also grab your squad and head to LaCroix’s bright and ridiculously cute setup, or swing by San Diego Magazine’s area, where you might stop for a photo in front of the larger-than-life SD Magazine sign and find yourself watching a painting come to life.
But really, you’re in Del Mar. The ocean is essentially your backdrop, and every zone gives you an excuse to stop for the obligatory “totally candid” photo. And yes, the best strategy is to get the group shot before everyone has been sampling wine for three hours.
Shop, Browse, & Take Something Home
The Grand Tasting also doubles as a little shopping excursion, with local makers, fashion, vintage finds, jewelry, and lifestyle brands scattered throughout the grounds. Smoke Revival Vintage Vault brings the thrill of vintage treasure hunting, while Nortte Hats and Hemlock Hat Company make a pretty good case for leaving with a new accessory.
Keep an eye out for jewelry and creative vendors, too, including Iris Studio Jewelry and New Nightfall Jewelry, plus local artists and makers featured throughout the festival.
You can come for an all day food and wine festival, but still leave with something shiny you definitely did not plan to buy.
Wellness & Reset Moments
We know, at some point, even the most dedicated grazer has to come up for air. The Novo Dia Wellness Zone is designed for exactly that, bringing together mocktails, coffee, hydration, wellness brands, and even bites from Parakeet Cafe.
Step away from the food and drink frenzy for a few minutes, relax in the shade, try some skincare, stretch with prAna, and maybe grab some Instant Hydration Electrolytes before round three.
There’s also nothing wrong with stopping to smell the roses at Green Air Botanicals while devouring a dairy-free cheese dip. It’s less about disappearing from the party and more about making sure you have enough energy to keep going.
The zones give you somewhere to wander, and the activities give you a reason to keep going. So grab your tasting glass, check the schedule, and leave a little room in your afternoon for something you didn’t plan on doing. At Del Mar Wine & Food, that’s usually where things get interesting.
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.
Around the world, people prize wine from hyper-specific regions. We know that grinding whole coffee beans results in a richer cup than using preground beans. So why do so many of us rely on preground spices to flavor our food?
Dharti Jadav wants us to change that perception of spices, using her own childhood memories from growing up in Ahmedabad, a city in western India in the state of Gujarat. She’s lived in the United States for 20 years, but never had to settle for substandard, stale spices from an old spice rack in a random grocery store. Her mother, who visited every year, would always bring along as many spices from India as she would need until the next year.
Courtesy of Koshna
That changed with the pandemic. “I’m used to a certain freshness level in the spice,” she explains. When the world went into lockdown, she resigned herself to shopping at a large grocer to refill her shelves.
It didn’t go well.
The cumin tasted like cardboard—nothing like the piquant, aromatic herb her grandfather grew in India. “It literally felt like somebody was taking away my memories,” she says. She couldn’t let that happen. So she decided to launch Koshna to present spices in a way that actually showcases their depth.
Sharing a variety of fresh spices for people to fully experience their vibrancy is one thing. But Jadav’s business plan ensures all Koshna products are also sourced individually from small-scale farmers in India, who harvest and deliver the same year to ensure full potency. For comparison, mass-market spice brands can take two years or more to hit shelves, and every day in storage diminishes its vitality and flavor.
Plus, most spices aren’t just one flavor from one place, she explains. “There are varieties of specific turmeric that have their own nuances and grow in a specific region,” she says. But if you look at 99.9 percent of turmeric bottles on mass market shelves, the label will just say “turmeric.” We don’t simplify wines into just “white” or “red.” So why don’t spices, the commodity that literally launched global trade routes we still use today, get the same specificity, in stores or in restaurants?
Courtesy of Koshna
“All these restaurants, they’re all about farm-to-table,” says Jadav. The menu often says where the local lettuce was grown or where the fish was caught. “I have yet to find a restaurant that says ‘my spice comes from this farm.’” Most people don’t even know where black pepper originated from. (Hint: it’s also from India.)
Jadav sells Koshna spices online, various farmers markets in San Diego, seasonal pop-up events, and small shops like Home Ec, Bica, and Fox Point Farms. Currently, her product line features spices like Lakadong turmeric (from Umnari in the Meghalaya region), Chambal coriander (named for the Chambal River flowing through the Khera Rudhda in Rajasthan), Aaji fennel (named for the Aaji River flowing through the Ramod in Gujarat), Resham Patto chilli (from Ramod, Gujarat), and of course, the spice that started it all—Banas cumin (named after the Banas River flowing through Dungala, Gujarat).
She knows it can feel intimidating to go from a shaker of flavor to having to grind your own. But it’s worth it, she promises. “Just play with it,” she laughs. “Cooking, it’s like the simplest thing. Nothing wrong can come out of it.”
Courtesy of Mike’s Red Tacos
San Diego Restaurant News & Food Events
Beth’s Bites
Bocktoberfest is coming! German-inspired South Park beer bar Bock is hosting a three-weekend shindig with different “tents” each weekend. Things kick off with Paulaner, followed by Seek Beer and Enegren Brewing, and culminating with Hacker-Pschorr. Come thirsty, ready to hold a stein for longer than you would think (!), and hungry for classic Bavarian bratwurst.
I’m biased in that I believe every season is cider season, but fall is when the juice really starts to flow. In San Diego, Newtopia Cyder is gearing up for the season and beyond, recently inking a distribution deal that will bring their ciders to nine states in the east and southeast, with more on the way. Part of their expanded lineup includes the flagship Venom Imperial Cyder, a collaboration with Wu-Tang Clan’s U-God, with rollout that coincides with the upcoming Wu-Tang tour. San Diego cider ain’t nuthing ta f’ wit.
U-God isn’t the only celeb tapping into San Diego food and drink. NBA superstar LeBron James just joined Mike’s Red Tacos as an investor, helping the Southern California birria brand keep up its rapid nationwide expansion. King James and birria? Now that’s a slam dunk.
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.
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.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
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.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
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.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
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.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
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.
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.
Courtesy of Pinyada “Ada” Primpray
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 Monsterwill open daily for lunch and dinner in late 2026 at 6110 Friars Road in Mission Valley.
Oktoberfest season is closing in fast, and one of the first dirndl-laced events of the year kicks off at AleSmith Brewing Company this weekend. AleSchmidt Oktoberfest runs every Saturday from September 12 through 26, and the family-friendly event is chock-a-block with German food vendors, live oom-pah bands, stein holding, and a whole lot more. The free event starts at 11 a.m. each Saturday, and from personal experience, I recommend posting up on the early side to snag a seat.
Japanese fine dining restaurant Shio soft opened in August, bringing elegant plates and sunset views to La Jolla. (The area was hardly hurting for either, but I think we could always use some more sushi in our lives.) Has anyone checked it out yet? Let me know what I should order by dropping me a line at [email protected].
Restaurateur brothers Danny and Dante Romero have been on a tear the past few years, consulting at places like Una Mas and taking over The Lion’s Share last summer. It’s understandable to see they recently decided to pause their recurring pop-up concept Two Ducks to recalibrate and figure out its future in a permanent location, but it’s still a bit bittersweet. If it’s “see you later” and not “goodbye,” I can live with that (for now).
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.
“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.
Courtesy of Kuya Sharpens
“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.”
Photo Credit: Lauren di Matteo
San Diego Restaurant News & Food Events
Beth’s Bites
Mesa Agricola, a tiny taqueria in Escondido, made this year’s New York Times50 best restaurants in the US list. If you’ve had the privilege of eating the guisado delicacies from chef Juan González and Megan Strom, you’ll understand why. Congrats on the recognition—and happy first birthday!
Ranchito Milkyway, a farmstand in Bonita, also has plenty of events to pencil into your calendar, starting with an Indian cuisine-inspired farm-to-table dinner on September 19 with chef Kanta from Sattvik to an Italian cooking class on October 17 with chef Elisa from Balsamico Italian Kitchen. If you’re chock-full of things to do over the next few weeks, there’s always the option to snag one of their CSA boxes for an abundance of winter greens, vegetables, and herbs for home cooking.
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.
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!
