Free Rady Shell Concerts Feel Like a Hack—But It’s By Design
Outside the gates at Jacobs Park, a unique scene thrives with lawn chairs, picnic spreads, and music lovers catching their favorite artists without a ticket
“Yessss, I’m a Ludacris fan,” crows 41-year-old downtown resident Kay Thomas, breaking into dance moves to punctuate her point, her cassette-tape earrings swinging.
She’s answering the question I ask everyone I meet milling around the perimeter of the Embarcadero’s Rady Shell at Jacobs Park in the hours before the “Act a Fool” rapper takes the stage on a cool, early summer night: “Are you a Ludacris fan?”
“I went through a big Ludacris phase in my day,” concedes another attendee. “I had the CDs; that’s how old I am. You’re going to see a lot of 30-year-olds here.”
I do, but I also see 18-month-olds in strollers, school-aged kids and teens of every grade with their parents, beer-toting groups of 20- and 40- and 50-somethings, white-haired ladies that resemble my grandma, a few toothless infants in Babybjörns, several dogs (one also in a Babybjörn), a woman wearing a neck brace, a small bicycle gang, a handful of roller skaters, and a charcuterie board that contains an entire baked brie. None of them have a ticket—instead, they’ve gathered on the promenade abutting the downtown venue. Early birds score seats on benches and rocks, often with coolers and blankets in tow, while latecomers fill in standing room on the sidewalk.
Photo Credit: Ariana Drehsler
Private boats full of spectators bob serenely in the surrounding bay. The captain of one vessel calls out, “Who’s on tonight?” as he cruises by, and one of the promenade picnickers shouts an answer. Shortly after, a couple rows up in a tiny, two-person dinghy and pulls out sandwiches. Plenty of these attendees, I learn, are less Ludacris devotees than they are Rady Shell regulars.
“I live right there,” Karen Pannell tells me, gesturing in the general direction of downtown. She’s arrived early to snag a bench. “I usually go inside [the venue] for a couple of shows a year, and for a lot of others, I just wander over. Even if it’s someone I don’t even know, I’m like, ‘Might as well.’”
Once, while strolling the promenade in the daytime, she heard a familiar voice. “I was like, ‘Wait a minute,’” she says. “So, I went over, and there’s Alicia Keys doing a sound check. It wasn’t really advertised—it was a charity event. I went back that night for it.”
We’re still chatting when Pannell’s friend Eve Verdian, a Gaslamp resident in her late 60s, arrives, bearing clips on her phone from Brand New’s sound check at Gallagher Square, which she watched from her sister’s condo overlooking Petco Park. It’s around this time that I realize there’s a whole subculture of free live music seekers quietly thrumming along in San Diego.
Thirty-six-year-old Nate Hancock and his group of buddies keep a dated list of Rady Shell and Gallagher Square concerts they want to catch each season from the promenade or rooftop spot Fairweather Bar, respectively— though he tells me that the Ludacris show was a last-minute addition to the agenda.
Photo Credit: Ariana Drehsler Downtown resident Nate Hancock, his dog Captain, and his group of gold chain– clad friends.
“Where did you get the chains, then?” I ask, gazing around at the oversized gold plastic necklaces everyone in his squad— including his labradoodle, Captain—is wearing.
He shrugs. “We ordered ’em on Amazon last night.”
It’s one of the bolder fashion statements on display tonight, but Hancock’s group isn’t out of place—the looks vary so wildly that no one is. Dotted among the many attendees in hoodies and beanies to fight the chill coming off the bay are people in dressier, club-ready outfits. Some, clad in khakis and sweater vests, clearly came straight from work. A little boy scooters by in a full white suit.
And Saturnino Martinez is rocking a steampunky leather top hat and yellow-tinted goggles. Fingerless gloves cover his hands. “You can’t bring anything into the Shell,” he points out. “But out here, it’s free rein. Well, you can’t bring chairs or anything, but you could bring a backpack—but they’re going to search it—and snacks and hot dogs and burritos and 420-friendly stuff. You could smoke out here. You could do edibles.”
Photo Credit: Ariana Drehsler A crowd gathers on the promenade outside The Rady Shell to catch the show for free.
Indeed, as showtime approaches and the crowd grows, the pungent aroma of cannabis increasingly permeates the air. Controlled substances aside, though, the views from the promenade are so good that it feels like you’re getting away with something. But, according to Craig Hall, vice president for marketing and communications at the San Diego Symphony Orchestra, the ability to catch each concert free of charge is intentional.
“Ensuring the promenade and surrounding views around The Rady Shell at Jacobs Park remained accessible was always an essential part of the design. The stunning beauty of this location is part of what makes it so iconic, and we wanted everyone to experience this unique intersection of nature, architecture, and the arts,” he says. “[We] intentionally included benches [on the promenade] from which people can sit and view and enjoy rehearsals [or] concerts.”
I’m not an expert on American concert venues, but I imagine it’s one of the few places in the country where people can not just hear but see chart-topping recording artists without paying a cent.
Photo Credit: Ariana Drehsler Oak Park resident D’Wayne Bullock and his children, Grace (11) and Grant (15).
For Oak Park resident D’Wayne Bullock, tonight’s show is an opportunity to expand the world for Grace, 11, and Grant, 15. “Me and my kids, we do a lot of stuff around San Diego all the time, but I realized the other morning that I’ve never taken them to a concert,” he says. “So, we decided to go ahead and come down. We were going to sit on the lawn, but my mom was like, ‘No, sit outside. You can see everything perfectly.’ So we came last night and scouted it out.”
Their impulse to get there well ahead of the show was a good one—the audience thickens and anticipation heightens as the opening acts take the stage. The picnickers cheer, dance, raise their phones to snap photos of the massive screens projecting rapper Childish Major’s grinning face. The crowd parts only when security guards push through, trailed by a boxy white limo with dark tinted windows. “Oh, there’s Ludacris,” someone says, scooting out of the way.
They were probably right, since, not long after, the man himself arrives at last. The throngs on the promenade—all of them, the vibe seekers and casual fans and one guy who loves Ludacris so much he’s tearing up a little—explode into screams. “When I say, ‘Luda,’ you say, ‘Hell, yeah!’” he commands into the mic, and a chorus of voices pours in from the boats out on the water. A young couple picks their toddler up out of his stroller and bounces him as Ludacris launches into a song from his Fast & Furious days.
I run into Hancock again, pressed up close to the barricade surrounding the venue, Captain’s leash in one hand and a beer in the other. Light from the Shell’s curved dome tints his face blue. “I have friends inside—way back there on the lawn,” he says, pointing. “They paid $100 to be there, and I was like, ‘Dude, we’re gonna watch on the sidewalk, in the front, for free.’”
Amelia Rodriguez is a writer and journalist and winner of the San Diego Press Club's 2023 Rising Star Award and 2024 Best of Show Award, she’s also covered music, food, arts and culture, fashion, and design for Rolling Stone, Palm Springs Life, and other national and regional publications. After work, you can find her hunting down San Diego’s best pastries and maintaining her five-year Duolingo streak.
When three nations and 16 cities come together to host the FIFA World Cup 2026, the scale stops feeling like a tournament and starts feeling like geography. A continent becomes the stage as borders soften into corridors. And Southern California—shaped by migration, sport, entertainment, and constant movement—sits inside that landscape with all eyes on it.
San Diego and Los Angeles have always felt connected. Hop on the Pacific Surfliner, and the trip unfolds in one continuous stretch of coastline, passing beach towns, neighborhoods, and city centers.
Traveling from San Diego, everything still feels slightly suspended as the Pacific Surfliner follows the coast north with ocean on one side and a slow suburban blur on the other. San Diego stays in exhale. Los Angeles is already building toward something louder.
This summer, Los Angeles will host eight matches of the FIFA World Cup at Los Angeles Stadium, including the US Men’s National Team opener on June 11, while the region stretches into 39 days of programming across stadiums, parks, transit hubs, beaches, and neighborhoods. Instead of one massive fan hub, Los Angeles is embracing a citywide celebration, with fan zones spread across its entirety.
But this pattern has been rehearsed here for decades. In 1994, Southern California became one of the defining stages of the World Cup, when matches at the Rose Bowl placed global attention on the region and turned local stadiums into international landmarks, confirming its ability to hold the world at scale.
What distinguishes Southern California is not just infrastructure, but cultural permeability. Fashion, music, film, art, and sport constantly overlap here, creating an environment where identity is flexible and always in motion. From the Venice boardwalk, where skate culture shaped modern street style, to global soccer stars rubbing shoulders with Hollywood celebs, to authentic Spanish cuisine moving up and down the I-5 corridor, everything circulates.
The World Cup is not introducing anything new here, it’s showing up for the summer and showing out, revealing what this city has always known about itself. What follows is a look at the fan zones and how Los Angeles turns itself into a city-wide stage for the tournament, one neighborhood at a time.
Courtesy of Los Angeles Tourism & Convention Board
Los Angeles Union Station
As the heart of Los Angeles, Union Station is an official Fan Zone June 25-28 during the World Cup, but in practice it never really stops being one.
It is the city’s circulation point, its meeting ground, its pressure valve. Commuters, travelers, match-day crowds, and everyday Angelenos all move through the same space, and everything mixes, overlaps, and scales in real time. In a way, this is where the World Cup stops arriving in Los Angeles and starts moving through it.
The Pacific Surfliner from San Diego to Los Angeles makes that shift feel almost too easy. No stress or gridlock anxiety, just a straight line up the coastline with ocean on one side and everything slowly becoming more built on the other. It’s one of the rare ways into LA that doesn’t feel like arrival as friction. You can sit with a laptop, watch the Pacific drift past, grab coffee from the café car, and let the city come to you in pieces.
That’s the beauty of arriving at Union Station. Instead of feeling like you’re on the edge of the city, you’re immediately surrounded by it. And, inside, the station already reads like a World Cup nerve center: banners, movement, multilingual energy, the sense that something global is about to funnel through this exact point. The Heart of the City Fan Zone only sharpens that feeling, with simultaneous match screens, DJ sets, meet and greets, and immersive activations built around marquee games like USA vs. Türkiye.
ROW DTLA feels like the first exhale after arrival. A converted industrial campus turned creative district where restaurants, retail, and open-air courtyards form a self-contained ecosystem. If you’re looking for the perfect first meal in LA, make it lunch at Pizzeria Bianco. The thin-crust pizza is reason enough to go, but the space leaves just as much of an impression.
What I liked most about ROW DTLA is how quickly it resets you after the train. One minute you are stepping off at Union Station, and the next you are in a space that feels like its own version of LA, a city inside a city with some of the most curated shopping I’ve ever seen.
Bodega hides itself behind a convenience-store front, a sneaker and streetwear space disguised as something ordinary, like LA refusing to make anything feel too obvious. The whole campus moves like that, part retail, part gallery, part neighborhood you are only temporarily inside.
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.
When was the last time you really looked at your fridge? Not for milk or ketchup or that takeout you hope is still good, but really looked at it. Considered it. Its texture. Its shape. Its role in your life. “Never” is probably your answer here. But once you’ve seen India Thompson’s life-size fridge made of reed, you’ll probably pause the next time you’re in your kitchen.
Thompson’s new Looks Like Home exhibit on view at Mingei International Museum takes everyday items that most of us use on a daily basis—the things that usually make our lives faster and more convenient—and renders them useless but beautiful as intricately woven reed sculptures.
The museum’s name comes from the philosophy of Yanagi Sōetsu, who wrote in the essay “The Beauty of Miscellaneous Things” that “when one becomes too familiar with a sight, one loses the ability to truly see it. Habit robs us of the power to perceive anew, much less the power to be moved.”
Thompson joins artists who use material transformation to remake the familiar, like Katarina Kamprani who redesigns everyday objects in ways that render them physically unusable, or Do Ho Suh who recreates domestic spaces through labor-intensive processes. Thompson’s approach is quieter, more tender: She doesn’t distort. She weaves.
Photo Credit: Ron Kerner
Seeing her work for the first time brought up emotions I hadn’t felt since I was a kid watching The Brave Little Toaster, the movie that taught me to hold space for the invisible servants that make up our homes. Thompson’s collection encourages a kind of reckoning with what it means to ignore the essential. It asks you to reconsider what “home” means in an era where so few can afford to buy one. Her sculptures are like a challenge to pause where you usually press on. Being close to her work is like taking a breath and not realizing how long you’ve been holding it.
Thompson was born in Los Angeles and is now a multidisciplinary artist based in San Diego. While ceramic is her primary artistic medium, this exhibition highlights her exploration of basketry—a thousand-year-old, time-consuming process and an art form she describes as one of “care and memory-keeping.”
Thompson also happens to 9-to-5 as Mingei’s studio program specialist. Assistant Curator Ariana Torres didn’t know about Thompson’s basketry work until she saw Thompson post a picture of her woven toilet paper on Instagram. Then came a woven microwave.
“It seemed really poignant and uncanny,” Torres says. “It was mundane, but it was also kind of quiet … something you wouldn’t think anybody would focus on.”
Photo Credit: Ron Kerner
Thompson began making art five years ago in her college ceramic class called Handbuilding, and she immediately fell in love. The first art she ever shared with others were her ceramic figurines: round, red-clayed pot-like sculptures with minimalist, barely-there faces in a variety of expressions. Some look surprised. Some look very concerned. Some look like they spend Friday nights at a Star Wars cantina. She calls them “Moots.”
The definition of the English word moot, in verb form, is “to gather and discuss an important topic,” as Thompson explains. “They look so serious … like they’ve wriggled through the earth to talk to each other.”
Thompson found her way to basketry three years ago and learned by watching YouTube videos.
“It’s something you can do at home,” she says. “And I love a repetitive process.”
The toilet paper roll came to her while making a cylinder that she thought looked like a roll of Charmin. Then she thought maybe she should make one on purpose. “I just thought it would be funny and really challenging, too,” she says. “Because there’s no tutorial for that. Why would there be, right?”
She figured it out and shared it on Instagram. People loved it. It received more than double the amount of likes and comments she usually got, but what really struck her was how many people came up to her in person to talk about how they connected with it. That, to her, was even more meaningful than the online response.
So she kept going and chose to make a microwave next.
Photo Credit: Ron Kerner
“[It’s an] object we all own and we all need,” she says. “Yet no one really cares about a microwave.”
She started the collection during a time when her landlord was coming into her apartment constantly with a crew of people, making notes of what they were going to remodel without ever acknowledging her in the room.
“It was such a weird fishbowl moment,” she says. “I technically don’t own my apartment, but I still consider it home. I live here and I pay to live here, but this isn’t mine. We live in this space and I call it my apartment. I call it my refrigerator. But it could be taken away at any moment.”
It dawned on her how much we depend on things we don’t own, how little we notice the things we rely on every day, and how temporal the word “my” can be.
The woven refrigerator is the largest in Thompson’s collection at Mingei, and inside it you can find additional woven items like a ranch bottle, a Brita filter, and a sandwich on a plate. You can’t open the freezer door, but if you look carefully between the gaps of woven reed, you might be able to see a few other things Thompson made and placed inside.
“If you really look closely,” she explains, “you’ll be rewarded.”
Charitable gatherings, downtown music festivals and theater premieres—of both the heartwarming and thought-provoking variety—are among San Diego’s standout events this weekend. You can’t spell fundraising without ‘fun,’ and both elements are central at Poway OnStage’s Taste of the Towne and the Switchfoot Bro-Am. Listeners of blues, reggae rock and silky smooth jazz can check out the East Village Blues Fest, Field of Dreamz and the San Diego Smooth Jazz Festival, respectively. As for the city’s thespian community, new shows include Cygnet Theatre’s production of Broadway favorite The Spongebob Musical and the world premiere of the OnWord Theatre show Marti Gobel’s Adult Storytime: A Caregiver’s Guide To The Blues.
The tasteful appetizer to Switchfoot Bro-Am’s annual Beach Fest is the laid-back Benefit Party, returning this Thursday from 6-10 p.m. at Viasat. Guests will be treated to a curated dining menu, a performance by Switchfoot with special guests, and the chance to bid on live and silent auction items, including local excursions, apparel packages, and deluxe arts experiences. Individual ticket options include general admission ($300) and reserved seating ($450); the money raised will go towards youth-centered programming at six local nonprofits.
6155 El Camino Real, Carlsbad
Taste of Our Towne at Poway Center for the Performing Arts
June 13
Patrons of Poway OnStage are invited to Taste of Our Towne, the organization’s annual culinary fundraiser, this Saturday at 5 p.m. at Poway Center for the Performing Arts. The evening will begin with auctions, plus bites and libations from over a dozen local vendors before magician Chris Funk, aka The Wonderist, takes the stage for an interactive comedy show.General admission is $115 for Taste of Our Towne; proceeds from this event will benefit Poway OnStage’s Professional Performance Series and Arts in Education Initiative.
Rod Stewart at North Island Credit Union Amphitheatre
June 12
Before (potentially) riding off into the sunset, British rocker Rod Stewart is strutting his stuff stateside with the unconventional voice and unquestionable verve that’s propelled his nearly six decade-long solo career. Though the “Da Ya Think I’m Sexy?” artist’s days on the road may be dwindling, that’s even more reason to give him his flowers in the present. Stewart’s upcoming show this Friday at 7:30 p.m. at North Island Credit Union Amphitheatre will feature prolific singer-songwriter Richard Marx as the opening act. Tickets start at $40.
2050 Entertainment Circle, Chula Vista
Switchfoot Bro-Am Beach Fest
June 13
Following Thursday’s Benefit Party, the 22nd annual Switchfoot Bro-Am will switch (get it?) from its fundraiser to a free day at Moonlight Beach for Saturday’s all-day Beach Fest. From 7 a.m. to 3 p.m. there will be surf competitions—including surf jousting—and from noon to 5 p.m., Sun Room, Telephone Friends, Kimiko, a handful of special guests and, of course, Switchfoot will perform for attendees. Additionally, throughout the day, there will be a variety of vendors and brand activations to explore. Admission is free with RSVP, while VIP pit tickets are $195.
As the mysterious saying goes, ‘If you build it, they will come,’ but instead of Iowa cornfields, this time the message is coming from inside SD’s home ballpark. This Saturday, Ocean Beach natives Slightly Stoopid will headline the first-ever Field of Dreamz Festival, and they’ve brought along a handful of ska, reggae and island-inspired rock acts for the ride. Doors will open at 3 p.m., and fans can see sets by Stephen Marley, Pepper, Sublime—whose first album with frontman Jakob Nowell drops Friday—and more. Ticket options include standard admission ($125), floor tickets ($188), plus All-Star VIP ($244) and Hall of Fame VIP ($610) passes.
Ryan Hardison is a freelance arts and entertainment writer and recent graduate of San Diego State. When he's not staring at his laptop, he's likely eating an adobada burrito or getting sunburnt at the beach.
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.”
We love a mega-fancy tasting menu, but let’s be honest—we’re not all blessed with unlimited Wagyu funds. So we picked some of the breakout dishes of the last year (or couple of years) from the best chefs in the city, reverse-engineered their chief charms (salty, smoky, caramelized?) in the test lab of our mouths, and found some budget-friendly alternatives that hit some of the same notes with an everyday price tag.
Where do delicately plucked marigold blossoms adorn Deer Isle scallops, or ingredients like fermented raspberry precede roasted coffee oil, shiro miso caramel, or bronze fennel in a parade of hit-after-hit dishes? Lilo in Carlsbad, of course. San Diego’s newest Michelin star changes its menu with the seasons, but one stalwart dish has kept tongues wagging since opening day last April: the caviar ice cream. A boat-shaped sliver of orgeat ice cream, smoked celery root bushi, and freshly pressed almond oil are topped with a generous heap of caviar. It’s a dish so good and defining that chef Eric Bost will tire of talking about it for a very long time.
Price: $265 for the tasting menu (before tax, tip, and drinks)
Low: S’mores Ice Cream at Stella Jean’s
There’s a reason Stella Jean’s s’mores ice cream is part of the local scoop shop’s “always available” menu. Made with fire-roasted marshmallows and coconut ash ice cream mixed with dark chocolate-covered graham crackers and mini marshmallows, its strangely ashen hue dabbled with flecks of tawny brown is a far cry from the wildly vibrant ube and pandesal toffee flavor seemingly made for Instagram reels. But it’s a sensation in your mouth—smoky, toasty, torched, creamy, marshmallowy, coconutty, ashy, and bitter from the dark chocolate. Pro tip: If you really want to DIY Lilo’s ultra-luxe treat, bring your own caviar.
There’s no question what comes first at Lucien. It’s the egg. Chef and co-owner Elijah Arizmendi’s 12-course tasting menu begins with welcome bites under the calamansi tree before moving inside to start the Journey (the actual name of this section of the menu). The first step is one of the most astounding—a perfectly intact, upright, ochre-hued eggshell containing his take on Japanese chawanmushi (egg custard), topped with a dollop of caviar. The accompanying ingredients have ranged from sweet corn and huitlacoche to banana and buckwheat, but each one has precisely demonstrated Arizmendi’s commitment to French technique with California experimentation and global influence.
Price: $260 for the chef’s tasting menu (before tax, tip, and drinks)
Low: Chawanmushi at Sushi Ota
The biggest difference (besides price) is that while Lucien’s dish changes with the season, Sushi Ota is comfortably predictable. A San Diego staple since 1990, the legendary Sushi Ota has been one of those if you know, you know joints that locals try to keep off the radar. (It hasn’t worked at all.) Known for ultra-fresh fish and ultra-traditional service, the small Pacific Beach restaurant also serves Japanese comfort foods like udon noodle soup alongside sashimi, nigiri, and rolls. But it’s the savory steamed egg custard, called chawanmushi, that really gives you the warm and fuzzies. Add a side of salmon roe (ikura) for a few bucks more, and this dupe is about as good as it gets.
Price: $12 for chawanmushi, $11 for ikura
Courtesy of Chick & Hawk
High: The Birdman Sandwich at Chick & Hawk
Enough ink—and tears, I’m sure—has been spilled over Chick & Hawk’s long and arduous journey to opening its doors. But now that the Encinitas eatery is in full swing, chef Andrew Bachelier’s tightly curated menu of fried chicken sandwiches, fries, and bowls command lines of hungry locals and skate-culture loyalists. The Birdman, the signature hot chicken sandwich named for partner and skateboarding legend Tony Hawk, is piled with cabbage slaw and pickles and slathered with a tangy kimchi comeback sauce on a soft brioche bun. Although this Nashville meets California meets Mississippi meets Korea sando doesn’t command a triple-digit price tag, the fact that it’s nearly a $20 chicken sandwich (sans side) has been a topic of conversation. Bachelier—who worked at Addison before opening Jeune et Jolie, then launched SDM’s 2024 “Best New Restaurant,” Atelier Manna—and his team earned that price tag.
Low: 5-Piece Korean Fried Wings at Cross Street Chicken & Beer
It’s hard to beat Koreans at the chicken game. Korean fried wings are defined by a double-fry technique—first at a low temperature to ensure the chicken is cooked through, then at a high temperature to ensure the famed extra-crispy, ear-splittingly crunchrageous magic. At Cross Street, they follow a similar fusion ethos as Chick & Hawk, using inspiration from the American South as well as Thailand, Korea, Vietnam, and more, with flavors like “Seoul Spicy” or “Honey Butter” for whatever you’re feeling that day. Pair it with a cold beer to go full chimaek (a popular Korean combination of pairing fried chicken and beer). Now that’s a combo—and price tag—that’s hard to beat.
Price: $8.75 for five wings
Courtesy of Trust Restaurant Group
High: Steak Frites at À L’ouest
PB&J. Captain & Tennille. Brad Wise and steak. Steak frites ranks among the iconic global duos. And when the holy union of prime cuts and twice-fried carbs comes from Wise and the meat-loving masters at Trust Restaurant Group, it’s a pretty safe bet. À L’ouest—the group’s newest fancy, but not fussy, drippy plant dreamscape of a French steakhouse on the prime corner of 30th and University in North Park—gives guests a choice: 12-ounce New York strip, 8-ounce filet mignon, or 8-ounce Wagyu hanger, topped with sauce au poivre (the classic French pan sauce—peppercorns, shallots, heavy cream, brandy) and served with a heaping pile of 24-hour salt-brined fries and a watercress salad. One bite acts as a transport to a Parisian brasserie, so if you think about the cost in terms of time-space travel, it’s a pretty great deal.
Price: starts at $48
Low: Shepherd’s Pie at The Shakespeare Pub & Grille
To satisfy the same urge for meat and potatoes, feel at least moderately European while doing so, and save a couple quid, a trip to The Shakespeare in Mission Hills ticks all the boxes. The classic British shepherd’s pie arrives in a piping hot oval au gratin dish, smothered with a thick layer of mashed potatoes. Beneath it lies a hefty portion of marinated ground beef and vegetables in the pub’s secret sauce, and while there are a few choices of sides, the correct order is peas and “proper” chips (a.k.a. chunky, thick-cut fries versus the typically thinner American “French” fries). It’s more tickety-boo than très bien, but it’s immensely satisfying in any language.
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.
Chefs have done gobs of thankless, lumbar-breaking work over years to land the role. Restaurateurs put their entire livelihoods on the line, microdosed sleep, took ultimate responsibility for every minor stress. They earned the spotlight they get. But ask one of them, and they almost always defer to a line cook who’s showed up for years, been deep in the thing, and whose absence would bring the kitchen to its knees. Or the bartender with a warmth that draws people whether they’re thirsty or not. Or the noble and spreadsheetable soul in charge of purchasing everything needed for the nightly show.
Roger Feria Krile is not only the guy you want to be friends with at work, but also the guy you want to hire: respectful, nose-to-the-grindstone, versatile. And he’ll drop off a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls at your house for the holidays. Born in Tijuana, Krile moved to the US with his mom and sister when he was in elementary school. He saw the sacrifices his mother made to give her children a better life, and he pushed himself to live up to that brighter future.
He came to cooking during the pandemic, asking himself, “What do I really love to do?” His answer: “Bake cakes for friends and break bread with people,” he says. That led to a culinary school degree and a stint in a Michelin-starred NYC kitchen, where he grew to “love and understand” fine dining. Now back in San Diego, Krile’s showing up at Animae in a major way. He does prep work three mornings a week and comes later in the day twice a week for dinner service. Most line cooks do one or the other, but he requested both tours of duty.
“Gotta get my reps, keep my skills sharp,” Krile says, “and I don’t want to miss the rush.” Prep work in the mornings helps him learn how Executive Chef Tara Monsod uses each ingredient to the fullest. Krile’s not just a line cook. One-quarter Filipino (and learning about his culinary heritage from mentor Monsod), he’s building his own Mexican-Filipino pop-up concept. Look for Sarsa—Filipino for salsa—where every dish is a play on words fusing Mexican and Philippine Spanish or Tagalog. He’s already R&D’d a breakfast sandwich, the tortantalong: a torta filled with a signature Filipino eggplant omelette called a tortang talong. Friends in the industry say it’s unexpectedly delicious.
“He shows up every day with a clear goal of one day opening his own restaurant, and that drive pushes him to go above and beyond,” says Monsod. “He is constantly learning, asking questions, and absorbing as much as possible, all while leading by example on the line.”
Photo Credit: Matt Furman
Ruben Martinez
Purchasing Manager, Mister A’s
Ruben Martinez knows every bottle of wine at Mister A’s—not necessarily by taste (though he was on the tasting committee for years), but by where they are in storage and whether they need replenishment. Owner Ryan Thorsen wants the wine list at 100 percent available every night, and Martinez’s job is to make that a reality. He’s been keeping inventory on Mister A’s wines since the 1970s, back when he worked for founder John Alessio. And it’s not just vino: Martinez also procures the ingredients, arriving at 5 a.m. to meet delivery trucks, stock shelves, and alert chefs if anything’s amiss.
Then he hits the dining room for a once- or twice-over to find any imperfections. If a light is out, if the plumbing acts up, if something major happens after he leaves in the afternoon, he’ll fix it all. He’s the best guy to ask, anyway; he knows every inch of Mister A’s. “Before ‘Google it,’ there was ‘Call Ruben,’” Thorsen says.
Martinez started out in hospitality at 17 with his father at Hotel Del. “I thought it would be easy working with my dad,” he says. “But early on, he caught me fooling around with the boys and told me, ‘We’re here to make money for the company. If you’re not willing to work, get out of here.’” That set him straight and set the foundation for Martinez’s lifelong dependability.
He moved to Mister A’s a couple years later, and after over five decades, he’s now the indispensable purchasing manager who worked with Alessio, Betrand Hug, and now Thorsen. Later this year, he’s planning on retiring—though he’s already offered to keep showing up a couple days a week and help out with Thorsen’s new project at Liberty Station.
Thorsen knows this man is a gem. “I don’t think we fully grasp what it will feel like without him,” he says. Last year, he threw Martinez a surprise birthday party in Mister A’s Blue Room, inviting Martinez’s family and a whole cast of coworkers going back to Alessio days. Martinez says he had to leave the room to hide his tears.
Photo Credit: Matt Furman
Patrick Mattoon
Lead Prep Cook, Ironside Fish and Oyster
There’s an hour most people never see, when a restaurant’s technically awake but not yet accountable, and that’s where Patrick Mattoon lives. He’s been the foundation of Ironside’s prep team for the past five years, quietly guiding the day toward success. He and his team are the first in, and they turn on ovens, check deliveries, catch mistakes before they become problems, and fix everything without ceremony so the chefs and line cooks walk into a day that already works.
Mattoon organizes, but more importantly, he owns. There’s no job too small, no detail beneath notice. In a kitchen, bad prep’s the one thing you can’t fix later, no matter how talented of a chef is at the helm.
Five years in, Mattoon still approaches each day with the same care and intensity that he had on day one. He takes every task seriously and sees it through completely—the kind of consistent work that doesn’t draw attention but makes everything else possible. When the restaurant got a soft serve machine, a notorious maintenance nightmare, he taught himself how to clean and run it just to make sure it never broke, not for credit but because that’s just how he’s wired.
“He is a silent leader who has the respect of the entire team due to leading by example,” says Ironside chef Jason McLeod.
Photo Credit: Matt Furman
Arturo Celestino
Lead Line Cook, A.R. Valentien at the Lodge at Torrey Pines
Through 23 years, three executive chefs, and a recent kitchen remodel, lead line cook Arturo Celestino is a constant at A.R. Valentien. He’s there at 6:30 a.m. five days a week—sometimes six—for the Lodge’s breakfast service. That means he’s up early prepping potatoes, slicing mushrooms, whisking pancake batter, and stirring sauces “always with a smile,” says Owen Beatty, the restaurant’s new chef de cuisine. “He’s a good leader.”
Celestino shows the younger guys how to make the eggs fluffy, so the omelettes are always perfect (don’t stop twirling the spatula!). He keeps his line in line when their spirits start to naturally droop during the morning shift home stretch when his crew just wants to get out of there. As the lead, he’s also the one chefs turn to when newbies need motivation.
His secret sauce: “mucho talking!” It keeps people happy, and it also helps the chefs retain talent in the kitchen.
Celestino learned to cook out of “necesidad,” he says. He cut his teeth on fine dining at Pacifica Del Mar at the Hyatt and moved to A.R. Valentien in 2003, just a few months after it opened in 2002.
“I’ve had good jefes,” Celestino says of the three executive chefs he’s known at A.R. Valentien: Jeff Jackson, Kelli Crosson, and now Michelin-starred Eric Sakai. Under Jackson—who’s known for pioneering farm-to-table dining in San Diego—Arturo learned to appreciate local ingredients.
“My favorite is basil,” he says, “added to tomato sauce with garlic, it’s mmm.” Fresh basil plays the supporting role in A.R. Valentien’s signature brunch plate, which is also Celestino’s top choice on the menu (to make and to eat), via the Bull’s Eyes: slow-roasted eggplant with sunny-side-up eggs, tomato sauce, and La Quercia prosciutto.
“I love my job,” Celestino says as he flashes that smile. “It’s not just a plate of food. It’s an experience.”
Photo Credit: Matt Furman
Tony Suarez
Bartender, The Marine Room
If you’ve been to The Marine Room, you’ve probably met bartender Tony Suarez. With his charming Cuban accent and dapper vest and tie, he makes it his business to regale guests coming and going—even while he’s pouring, mixing, shaking, polishing glasses, and taking orders.
“Over 90 percent of our guests are celebrating a special occasion,” he says. “So I keep up the celebration throughout their whole visit.” He’ll make you a sparkling toast and a customized cocktail, and on your way out, he’ll wish you a happy birthday (again) and invite you back for drinks on him.
“My goal is always to delight the guest,” he says. “I like to discover how you feel and lead you to what you would like to drink.” That spirit of experimentation has led to new signature cocktails, such as the Gerald—crafted for a neighbor who’s a regular—featuring housemade pomegranate puree and bourbon, or the I Drink of You with local Bebemos tequila, Gran Marnier, and Green Chartreuse. You won’t find this anywhere else.
“[Suarez] has mastered the art of the personalized guest experience,” says Marine Room’s Executive Chef Ananda Bareño. “He remembers the small details and favorite orders that make our regulars feel like family.”
Suarez’s tenure at the Marine Room started with a walk on the beach and a knock on the door. He was impressed by the beautiful location, and he asked if they were hiring. He immediately started as a server assistant—right before Valentine’s Day. The bartender took Suarez under his wing, and he took to the books to learn all about spirits.
He’s taken on the bartender role with wisdom and grace, offering a sympathetic ear, a pick-me-up, and a “human to human connection,” he says. Ten years into his career, the surroundings still inspire him as much as they did on day one.
“The Marine Room, the windows onto the ocean, [all] have a healing effect,” he says.
National Philanthropy Day, presented by PNC Bank, Celebrates the Best of Philanthropy in San Diego
The 53rd Annual National Philanthropy Day Takes Place on November 21. Join us from 11:00 a.m. – 1:30 p.m. at the new Gaylord Pacific Resort & Convention Center!
Once yearly, AFP San Diego joins with others worldwide to celebrate National Philanthropy Day (NPD), a special day set aside to recognize the great contributions of donors and nonprofits that enrich of our community and the world. San Diego’s NPD is one of the largest and most successful in the U.S., attracting nearly 900 participants, including philanthropists, nonprofit leaders, CEOs, board members, development professionals, and business, community, and civic leaders.
Sponsorship proceeds from National Philanthropy Day are reinvested in education, training, scholarships, career development, and the advancement of fundraising professionals throughout San Diego. These resources and training provide fundraising professionals with the tools necessary to support our region’s diverse array of nonprofit organizations, which rely on charitable giving for close to half of their annual revenues.
The National Philanthropy Day Honorees are selected by the NPD Honorary Committee, a group of highly respected, diverse nonprofit and business leaders. Our 2025 Honorees include:
Outstanding Development Emerging Leader – Taylor Thompson Self-Nominated
Outstanding Development Professional – Sharyn Goodson Nominated by: AJ Steinberg & Jeanne Schmelzer
Outstanding Organization for IDEA – Accessity Self-Nominated
Outstanding Philanthropic Institution – Life Science Cares San Diego Nominated by: Blair Search Partners
Outstanding Philanthropist – Dan & Phyllis Epstein Nominated by: CSU San Marcos & KPBS
Outstanding Student Volunteer – Camden Hall Nominated by: Curebound
National Philanthropy Day San Diego provides an opportunity to reflect on the meaning of giving and to celebrate the selfless contributions of individuals and organizations across the region. We look forward to celebrating with you!
Sponsorship opportunities and individual tickets are available. Please visit www.afpsd.org for more information.
