In Brandon Hampton’s dim office, a fan whirs and his pet snake—a black and white 7.5-foot-long Argentine Boa constrictor—lies coiled and unmoving in a huge glass case. “When we got her, she kept licking the heat lamp, so we named her Brick, because ‘Brick loves lamp,’” he explains, a nod to actor Steve Carell’s character in Anchorman.
We’re at Hampton’s workshop in an industrial part of Escondido, home of Meglio Knives, where Hampton works as owner and lead knifemaker. Right now, he’s got a 100-person waitlist for his custom knives. In a different universe, though, he might have been a lawyer. “I graduated and went to law school and failed out because all my notes were drawings of knives,” the North County native says.
To fund his undergraduate history degree at CSU San Marcos, Hampton took up work at Strider Knives during the late 2000s. The company amassed superlative status among the armed forces and tactical knife communities in the 20+ years Strider was in business.
Hampton worked primarily under Duane Dwyer, business partner of owner Mick Strider. “He’s a material science guy. He taught me application-specific uses for different types of steel,” Hampton recalls of his mentor. They still hang out and drink whiskey together. Before that, in high school, he sold kitchen knives at a mall.
Growing up, he often helped out around his family’s Italian restaurant in Escondido. His great grandparents ran Laura Scardino’s on Escondido Boulevard and 10th Avenue. It’s a mariscos spot now, but back in the 1940s, great grandma Laura sold pasta and lasagna out of her house. “Servicemen would walk by and smell her cooking,” Hampton shares.
The former Scardino family restaurant
In the ‘70s, they tore down the house and built two buildings: Laura Scardino’s the restaurant— where Hampton would spend much of his youth wandering into the kitchen— and a smaller residential house.
“I remember going back there and making garlic bread pizzas. I was not a thin child,” he admits. His Mexican-Italian mother and tias taught him to cook. When he’s not cooking or working these days, he’s roving the county for good eats, such as Lola55’s tacos and beans and Izola bakery’s Tahitian vanilla knots.
Hampton’s also got words for those who think of San Diego as anything less than a dynamic food hub. “I hear a lot of bougie chefs get really critical about the food scene in San Diego, and I’m like, ‘speak for yourself, man.’”
During Meglio’s infancy, Hampton cycled through a number of paying jobs. There were shifts at UPS, a 9-to-5 as an admissions counselor, and a stint at a medical device company. In between, he spent just as much time in his shop “grinding away til the wee hours.”
Back then, Hampton visited a lot of restaurants, pitching his wares one by one, asking for feedback and making some industry friends along the way. Though it took a while to get his knives into the chef community, his clientele now reads like a best of list, including Chef Tara Monsod of Animae and Chef Accursio Lota of Cori Pastificio in North Park, a 2020 Best Restaurant winner.
Meglio Knives Brandon Hampton
Meglio Knives, product
However, the admin required for custom orders can be overwhelming. So, once he gets through his waitlist, he’ll focus on his production line of chef’s and paring knives for everyone, not just professional chefs.
Unless of course, someone’s got a good challenge for him. Need a left-handed eel knife, for example? Hampton is in—as long as the knife actually gets used. “If you don’t use your knife, send it back,” he says. “I don’t want my knives in a safe.”
And although Hampton clocks in considerable elbow grease designing, grinding, and shaping metal, he doesn’t consider himself an artist, but a craftsman.
“I make a tool,” he says. Compared to art, which is meant for emotional evocation, he believes, “there’s definitely a wrong way to make a knife. If it doesn’t cut, I’ve failed in my task.” On the other hand, “Seeing [chef] Tara create what she creates and knowing that she’s got my 8-inch Gyuto in the back just tearing it up, and my offset fillet back there… ” Hampton trails off for a beat. That’s art.
Ligaya Malones grew up in Kaua’i, Hawai’i and is a San Diego-based writer covering the intersection of food, travel, and culture. Her work has appeared in publications including Food52, Condé Nast Traveler, Lonely Planet, and Salt & Wind Travel.
Garden Kitchen was special. During its seven-year run on a quiet street in Rolando, even the farmiest-to-table devotees were pointing to chef-owner Coral Strong and slow-clapping. When the restaurant’s lease was up without the option to renew, which forced her to close in 2022, Strong wasn’t sure what to do next.
Farm-to-table wasn’t new by any means—chef Alice Waters spawned the movement at her pioneering restaurant Chez Panisse in Berkeley in the early ‘70s, and many San Diego chefs did it right. But by the mid-2000s, the idea had been so co-opted by the mainstream that the meaning was almost completely lost.
“In the beginning, I used to get very honestly angry and upset when I would go to other restaurants that were claiming they were farm-to-table, but knowing some of the chefs or prep cooks inside [telling me] ‘Oh no, that comes from Restaurant Depot,’” she says.
Strong grew up in Cardiff before her parents moved the family to Costa Rica in 1989. They’d bounce between the two countries for months at a time, but when they lived in a motel by the beach while building their own house, she witnessed an incredibly tight-knit food culture. “As a Latin American country, everyone kind of cooks together,” she says. Everyone chopped, prepped, prepared, and served as a unit. “[That] definitely shaped my adolescence as to how I thought about food and the community of food.”
Photo Credit: Olivia Hayo
When her father, a commercial fisherman, brought the family back to San Diego, Strong leaned into an entrepreneurial streak, moving from coffee to accounting and eventually bartending to pay the bills. But food remained a passion, especially after she met her future husband, who introduced her to his Be Wise CSA and the wonderful world of truly fresh, farm-grown vegetables.
“We were just always disappointed with the vegetables out at restaurants and were like, ‘Why can’t they just make vegetables taste good?” she wondered. She realized that despite having more small farms than any other county in the country, most restaurants in San Diego simply weren’t using local ingredients.
So she decided to do it herself.
Strong opened Garden Kitchen without any formal culinary training—just a commitment to getting the freshest vegetables, meat, fruits, and other produce onto people’s plates. Her first chef quit within a month, telling her it was impossible. “So I got in the kitchen one day and said, ‘I can do this, let’s figure it out.’ I taught myself how to cook.”
She already had connections with farmers, fishermen, and ranchers, and designed a different menu almost daily based on what she could get. “My farmers sometimes delivered in the middle of dinner service,” she laughs.
Garden Kitchen lasted until after the pandemic, but before the current economy cut into already razor-thin margins. Could Garden Kitchen exist today? She’s not sure.
“The biggest thing right now is just looking at the finances and how expensive it is,” says Strong. “Obviously, the cost of food is up right now, gas is crazy right now… it just crushes you.” Despite that, she believes that committing to the true farm-to-table ethos is as easy as one decides to make it.
“If you think it’s hard to order directly from your farmer, if you don’t understand the absolute pleasure in doing that and you’d rather order from a computer, then that’s your own difficulty,” she says. “People say they’re into it, but are they willing to make the effort like I am, to drive an hour to go get my meat, or drive 35 minutes to go to my farm to go pick it up? I don’t know.”
Today, Strong works as a private chef, hosts pop-ups, and offers catering services, all still using seasonally available ingredients from San Diego. And while she has no intentions of opening another restaurant, she says we might see even more of her in the future.
“I have a large property [in Valley Center], and let’s say that there will be more of my food to come,” she promises.
Courtesy of Tajima Ramen
San Diego Restaurant News & Food Events
Beth’s Bites
Dora is less than a year old, but already shaking things up—mostly, behind the bar. Bar lead Francesca Proietti Semproni (whose resume includes stints at Young Blood, Civico, and Rustic Root) launched what sounds (in my humble opinion) like an absolutely charming initiative called Nonna’s Recipe Book. Instead of picking your next drink off a menu, tell the bartender what you’re in the mood for, what you’re eating, and what flavors you tend to enjoy and they’ll whip up a unique concoction just for you. But wait, there’s more! Once the custom cocktail comes to life, the Dora team adds it into a living archive of recipes—a collection of guest-created drinks you can come back to again and again and again. In an age of algorithmic choices made for us rather than by us, I kind of love this analog vibe.
South Bay’s local coffee favorite Cafecito on Palm is doing the damn thing for number two. Cafecito on Park will open later this year near San Diego City College, bringing their signature espresso service closer to downtown. Hopefully, City College attendees can plan for their next finals week to be a little more java-driven.
It’s always 5 o’clock at Margaritaville Hotel San Diego Gaslamp Quarter, and now, it’s perpetual summer as well with a slew of rooftop cabanas now available to the public. If you ask me, it’s just in time for the hotel’s Yappy Hour, hosted on the last Thursday of every month through October, where pups and people can kick back on the rooftop and enjoy dog-friendly (and people-friendly) menus, plus giveaways, leis, and more. If your dog likes to chill as much as you do, this might be the place to hang poolside this summer.
Time flies when you’re slurping noodles. Tajima Ramen just hit the big 2-5 and is marking the occasion with a month of specials, events, deals, and other giveaways throughout June. From June 1 to 7, head back in time with their Throwback Menu bringing back some old favorites, June 8 through 14, you can get any two ramen bowls for $25 or free extra noodles with your ramen (dine-in only), or from June 15 through 21, snag happy hour prices all day, every day. There’s even more on the schedule, so take a peek at your local shop’s calendar and enjoy the taste (and some prices) circa 2001.
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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 art of presentation. The Marine Room's chef Bernard Guillas prepares Alaskan halibut with red walnuts, quinoa, cara cara orange, and an absinthe infusion
The Marine Room’s Chef Bernard Guillas
The Marine Room’s chef Bernard Guillas prepares Alaskan halibut with red walnuts, quinoa, cara cara orange, and an absinthe infusion
The Marine Room’s Chef Bernard Guillas
The Marine Room’s chef Bernard Guillas prepares Alaskan halibut with red walnuts, quinoa, cara cara orange, and an absinthe infusion
The Marine Room’s Chef Bernard Guillas
The Marine Room’s chef Bernard Guillas prepares Alaskan halibut with red walnuts, quinoa, cara cara orange, and an absinthe infusion
The Marine Room’s Chef Bernard Guillas
Alaskan halibut with red walnuts, quinoa, cara cara orange, and an absinthe infusion
The art of presentation. The Marine Room's chef Bernard Guillas prepares Alaskan halibut with red walnuts, quinoa, cara cara orange, and an absinthe infusion
The Marine Room’s Chef Bernard Guillas
The Marine Room’s chef Bernard Guillas prepares Alaskan halibut with red walnuts, quinoa, cara cara orange, and an absinthe infusion
The Marine Room’s Chef Bernard Guillas
The Marine Room’s chef Bernard Guillas prepares Alaskan halibut with red walnuts, quinoa, cara cara orange, and an absinthe infusion
The Marine Room’s Chef Bernard Guillas
The Marine Room’s chef Bernard Guillas prepares Alaskan halibut with red walnuts, quinoa, cara cara orange, and an absinthe infusion
The Marine Room’s Chef Bernard Guillas
Alaskan halibut with red walnuts, quinoa, cara cara orange, and an absinthe infusion
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.”
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.
Photo Credit: Elodie Bost
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 from 2011–2017.
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 boards pay for inspectors to come analyze their cities or states.
Tourism boards are massive organizations whose sole goal is to market the cities and states—attract tourists, who pay for hotels and spend money in the city. Heads in beds.
The first to swipe its TMD (tourism marketing dollars) 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. 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 cancontrol 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).
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 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:
Dumpling Inn & Shanghai Saloon
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.
Crab Hut
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
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.
Sake Bar GAGA
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.
Cannonball
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.
Glass Box
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.
Ikegi by Chef Stevan Novoa
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.
Mon Chourie
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.
Pho Ga Go
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.
Roppongi Restaurant & Lounge
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.
Sushi On a Roll
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.
Sweet Vibe
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.
This Musubi Love
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.
Mochichis
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.
While glucagon-like peptide-1 (GLP-1) receptor agents have been used to treat Type 2 diabetes for more than 20 years, their recent emergence as weight-loss wonder drugs marked a new frontier in medicine. But their effectiveness has left some patients wondering what to do once they’ve reached their goal. Stopping the medication could mean regaining some, if not all, of the weight. A Scripps Clinic internal medicine physician recently conducted a small study of whether GLP-1 patients who had reached their goal weight could maintain that weight by taking their regularly prescribed injection every other week instead of weekly. Spoiler alert: 30 of 34 patients did. Read more about the study here and what that may mean as pharmaceutical companies roll out oral GLP-1s.
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