“The first thing I did when I came to this country was go to a department store and squeeze the Charmin,” says Martin Short. “I had to know.”
The new mayor is sitting next to me at a professional, un-contagious distance, wearing purple sparkly shoes (rhinestones? A glittery mirage of unfathomable political power?). His purple suit is elegant yet playful, inhabiting a world somewhere between a nicely tailored Crown Royal bag and the singing dinosaur with obvious inflammatory issues who gave a whole generation of children morning-routine PTSD.
He is wearing a cumberbund, which is one of the fashion world’s kindest gestures to men—an ancestor of Spanx that hides our midsections’ emancipations or the fact that the pleasure of eating Pringles sometimes disables your ability to not burrow through the entire joy silo in a single sitting.
Minutes earlier, I had stood in the hallway waiting my turn. Handlers handled me. For prep, I pondered how no carpet felt as good as casino carpet. It’s like the soft, verdant loam of money; carpet so thick and giving it’s nearly a bounce house. Eventually, the door to the PR suite opened, and a journalist exited. He looked a bit stunned from his encounter, as if he saw what was inside the glowing briefcase in Pulp Fiction, and it was Mr. Short.
Martin Short, of course, doesn’t need the cumberbund to hide any abdominal discretions. He is lithe and vibrant and very Canadian in the most pleasant of ways. He and I have exactly 15 minutes with each other, a luxurious infinity pool of time allotted by the media architecture of press junkets. I imagine by the end of this vacation together, we’ll blithely phone Steve Martin from the gas station where we choose the proper jerky for the road trip all new buds take to cement our forever bond.
I have become mildly obsessed with what I consider to be one of the greatest ad campaigns of all time for a regional casino, Harrah’s of Southern California. They officially renamed—officially!—an entire town an hour north of San Diego “Funner, California.” And, every couple of years since 2017, they have “elected” a new mayor. The first mayor was David Hasselhoff. You’d see him all over billboards in San Diego, his handsome face that seemingly came into the world expressing a flirty wink or a double-guns. That double-guns face lorded over the city for years, proclaiming him the preeminent public official of a casino-based woohoo. Destinies had never been so perfectly aligned.
Courtesy of Harrah’s Resort Southern California
The Hoff was followed by geometrically-chinned boy king Rob Riggle and, most recently, the towering dutchess of deadpan, Jane Lynch (I sat with Jane when she was “elected,” too. You can read about our deep, meaningful relationship here). And now, Martin Short.
I enter the large suite and Martin Short is sitting at a conference table, purple as a magnificent bruise. There is an adjacent “living room,” where no fewer than four people also sit but make no eye contact whatsoever. Then, a kitchen with three barstools, all of which are full with people charged with overseeing this interaction. It is… dead silent, as if someone has just informed the group that AI has made it into the national drinking water. It’s in my nature to not ignore anyone in a social situation, so I briefly say hello to Mr. Short and then try to make eye contact with every single person. It is unreciprocated—not in a cold way, but in a professional “please do your job; we’ve been here all day” way.
Martin, understandably thinking I’m looking for direction, says, “You can sit over here. Ask me anything you want.”
“Okay, great,” I say. “We’ll start with politics, move into religion, and finish up with sex.”
“TROY!” the PR agent blurts.
She’s a friend, a very capable and talented person who is here on the behalf of her important client. It would be better for her if I didn’t go completely free radical, leaving her to later answer many strongly worded questions about pre-screening interviewees for obvious emotional instability. I smile and become the best professional I possibly can be.
Eight people will now watch Mr. Short and I attempt to wrestle something meaningful out of 15 minutes of conversation. Which I fully realize, having been around some famous people at this point in my life, is a lifetime. Minutes are the most precious possession of the truly famous. Their time is continually requested and picked at by the rest of us. The true interview artists can go from “Hello, my name is…” to “crying over past traumas but in a meaningful, shared way” within 15 minutes.
I am not that professional. I mostly ask him dumb food questions.
Courtesy of Harrah’s Resort Southern California
Here’s what should be said about Martin Short. First, I admit to having drastically under-appreciated this man’s talent. For whatever reason, I’d only seen him in roles that required him to perform with wild, almost cartoonish theatricality. Though his performances were remarkable in, say, Father of the Bride, my heart bends toward the blacker, dead-inside forms of comedy. I giddy most at the cigarette-smoke non-emotion of Lenny Bruce, Steven Wright, Mitch Hedburg, and Neal Brennan, or even the dopey, mellow wonderment of Nate Bargatze. Even The Chappelle Show was too animated for me, which I consider a stain on my ability to comprehend greatness.
And Mr. Short, in person, is an extremely high IQ’ed Canadian with immaculate emotional composure and a hilarious, no-bullshit wit. His answers are far less fantastical and lampoonish than I expected, but express some self-deprecating insight and wry cultural criticism. “I appreciate food people; I really do,” he says. “Eugene Levy would phone me up and say, ‘Do you want to drive to the valley and go to DuPar’s?’ And I’d say, ‘Orrrrr… eat a Balance Bar and go for a hike?’”
When I ask him for San Diego memories, he doesn’t bother polishing the fakery. “I distinctly remember going to the Hotel Del and the zoo,” he says and gives me a look that says, No clue, man. And I appreciate that amount of real, which again, I hadn’t expected. I’d expected him to embellish every moment, milk it for the ersatz. He also points out, “What do you know about Hamilton, Ontario? Probably not much.” Imminently fair.
The whole time he looks at me with the same look I imagine I’m giving him. “What, dear god, are we going to get from each other in less time than the intro montage of each episode of Game of Thrones—but, hey, let’s try.” And yet, he’s game, a consummate professional, polite as ****. And we get what we get.
The whole room laughs multiple times throughout our conversation… and not in a way that suggests they’re paid to laugh (they are). I’m laughing, too. His wit leaves the station first in any conversation—as it has been for nearly five decades now—and, more often than not, drops you off at a pretty damn funny destination.
By the time my PR friend announces from behind me, “Two minutes remaining, Troy,” I’ve decided that I do want to get some gas station jerky with my new buddy, head toward some uniquely American tourist attraction like the world’s largest petrified wad of hummus, and stop at a grocery store somewhere, half drunk on road cosmos, to squeeze a little Charmin.
Courtesy of Harrah’s Resort Southern California
Hard-Hitting Questions With The New Mayor Of Funner, California: Martin Short
Troy Johnson (TJ): What are you going to change about Funner, California during your reign?
Martin Short (MS): It’s going more modern and muted tones. I’m a painter. If you ever saw Ordinary People, it’s going to be as depressing as that. Changing nothing is my policy.
TJ: What is fun to you? What gets your giddy going?
MS: I have a lot of funny friends.
TJ: You don’t say.
MS: I swear to you, I have had 500,000 funny dinners. So funny to me is a great dinner, great cocktails, funny people, and a good vibe.
TJ: Let’s talk drinks. When you look at your hand, what is sloshing there?
MS: A cosmopolitan or white wine. Or, what my siblings and I all drink is rum and Cokes with a slice of lime. I’m not doing the Jack and Coke like you kids. When I was doing The Second City, I would always have a Rusty Nail. It was called a liquid Quaalude in the US and a kilt-lifter in Canada. You have one and you lift your kilt.
TJ: Your shoes are fantastic. Did you dress yourself?
MS: This is just stuff I had lying around. Dorothy-esque.
TJ: Let’s say it’s your final meal before you leave every human behind. You’re never going to see Steve Martin or any of them ever again. But you’re in charge of the menu. All that matters is you. What are you eating?
MS: I would order a Caesar salad, and then I’d go to roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, asparagus. And then for dessert, I’d go for ice cream. When I have guests at the house or Christmas or whatever it is… whenever they leave, and it’s just me, I will take that ice cream out of the freezer and leave it in the sink and let it melt. Because it’s like heroin.
TJ: I knew you were a man of distinction, but I didn’t realize you had this much distinction.
MS: I remember, in Canada, they didn’t have Baskin Robbins. My sister was going to the University of Michigan. I remember first experiencing pralines and cream, mocha almond fudge. And I would get up at 3 a.m. in the morning… I’d never tasted anything like it. So for my last meal I’d have a butterscotch sundae.
TJ: You had universal healthcare in Canada but not 31 Flavors? That seems like Canada’s priorities may be off.
MS: No. The first thing I did when I came to the US was go to a department store and squeeze the Charmin. How soft could it be? Talk about an ad campaign that worked.
TJ: And was it soft as my middle-aged midriff?
MS: Unbelievably soft. Started making out with it and they threw me out of the department store or wherever I was.
MS: I don’t eat red things. I wouldn’t eat a beet, I wouldn’t have a radish, and I don’t eat tomatoes. But I love ketchup and I love tomato sauce. But if someone hands me a turkey sandwich with tomato on it, the first thing I do is take it off.
TJ: Interesting. So you’re like a bull. Red inflames and enrages you.
MS: One time, my father was drinking milk from the quart, because he’s Irish, and I said, “Dad, be careful. I think that’s a little bit turned,” and he went “Hmmm… a little bit,” and kept drinking it. To this day, I’m traumatized. I don’t put milk in my coffee. I’ll put skim in my cereal, but just moist enough to cover the Raisin Bran.
TJ: So what tomato hurt you?
MS: I don’t know.
TJ: Pineapple on pizza?
MS: No. No, no, no, no, no. Mushroom and pepperoni.
TJ: What do you have in your pantry at all times?
MS: I have peanut butter, some tuna in a can. I make poached eggs in the morning.
TJ: That’s cooking-esque.
MS: Breakfast I can do. But I’ve never made a meal. I’ve never made a dinner. I can have a Balance Bar for breakfast, a Balance Bar for lunch, a Balance Bar for dinner, a sensible protein at the end of the night.
TJ: Okay, that makes sense.
MS: It doesn’t, really. It sounds kind of sad.
TJ: We’re San Diego Magazine. Do you have San Diego stories?
MS: I remember vividly staying at Hotel Del. I love the film Some Like It Hot, so that was exciting. Going to the zoo. That’s my image of San Diego.
TJ: So, not much. We are the souvenir cup of California, but we’re getting better.
MS: What do you know about Hamilton, Ontario? Probably not much.
TJ: I know they have healthcare and their red food sucks.
MS: Exactly.
TJ: What do you love about the resort experience?
MS: I love a good spa, but not the cucumbers. I would not eat a cucumber. You like all this stuff—you like all the foods, don’t you?
TJ: Well, not all. I’ve tried to like uni. All of my friends who’ve cooked in great restaurants say, “You have to like uni; it’s like the foie gras of the sea,” and my response is, “Really? Because it tastes like slimy gonads of a sea creature.”
MS: I’m weird because I would not eat a cucumber, but I do love escargot. I like sushi. I love steak. A good cheeseburger. But I eat a lot of chicken and turkey. And I think my favorite meal would be Thanksgiving—the mashed potatoes and turkey and dressing. In Canada, we don’t mash the potatoes because it feels too aggressive.
TJ: You just kind of stare at them and hope they’ll do their thing?
MS: I envy the foodie. I really do. I pass people painting a beautiful gorge, and I wish I could do that. But the only thing I can do is fill in “one” and then fill in “three.” I envy someone who can get joy out of cooking for three hours with a glass of white wine and youthful music playing. But me? I eat for energy.
TJ: Someone hands you a glass of white wine, and it has two cubes of ice in it. Does it activate your über-pretentious gene where you say, “Oh dear, oh my, nobody desecrates the terroir of the wine on my watch?”
MS: No, I take the glass, I down it in one gulp, and I say, “How dare you?” You know who does? Diane Keaton will take the best glass of red wine and put ice cubes in it.
TJ: You’ve been doing comedy for a couple years—what makes you get up and do what you do?
MS: Well, I think that you love doing it. It’s trickier in any career when you realize you’ve got the rent covered. Why do you want to keep doing it? The second you become complacent—or you realize the effort you would put in at 30, you’re not willing to put in at 60—then you should move aside.
TJ: And you’re not there yet, obviously. Do you ever see yourself getting to that point?
MS: I think after the third stroke I won’t be as active as I’d hoped.
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.
At Del Mar Wine & Food Festival’s Grand Tasting, everyone has their own goals for the day. One friend wants oysters and Champagne. Another heard there’s line dancing. Someone disappeared into Taco Alley. The food person is making a beeline for every chef demo, the golf friend has found the simulator, and someone else is already settled into a beach chair with a mezcal cocktail and has announced they’re “never leaving.”
Consider yourself zoned in.
This year, the Grand Tasting turns the Del Mar Polo Fields into a full-blown foodie wonderland, with chef showdowns, wellness escapes, art installations, lawn games, music, and plenty of magazine-worthy plates. But the zones are where everyone gets to play their own way. You might sip your way through the SLO Zone, accidentally spend the afternoon behind the DJ booth in Plant Paradise, or live out your best beach day in The Beach Zone.
With 100-plus chefs and restaurants, 150-plus wineries, breweries, distilleries, and drink makers, plus a whole lot more happening in between, there’s no shortage of ways to spend the weekend. And with the Grand Tasting taking place October 3 and 4, there’s actually time to explore.
Because the problem with bringing your favorite people to an adult playground is that everyone wants to play differently. Luckily, you get two days to figure it out. Here’s where to start:
Courtesy of Del Mar Wine & Food Festival
The Beef Experience
The Beef Experience, presented by Brandt Beef – One World Beef, is for the people who believe a food festival is a perfectly reasonable excuse to build an entire afternoon around meat. Brandt Beef brings its signature fare to the Polo Fields alongside a seriously stacked lineup of local favorites, from Tanner’s Prime Burgers and Ranch 45 to Jimmy’s Famous American Tavern, Order Fire Barbecue, Flying Pig Pub & Kitchen, The Pit BBQ, Aloha Rib Shack, and more.
And then there’s the tent you might almost miss.
Tucked into Brandt Beef Alley, Bebemos Tequila has set up what looks, from the outside, like a fairly unassuming tent. Walk inside, though, and you’ll find a full little speakeasy lounge, complete with a bar and one very dramatic tequila trick. The team lights the shots right in front of you before pouring them straight into guests’ mouths. Candlelight, fire, tequila, barbecue. Suddenly, your casual afternoon tasting has taken a turn.
Grab a plate of Brandt Beef tallow fries, chase it with a pour from Bebemos Tequila or Tap Truck San Diego, and maybe browse Nortte Hats while you recover. The rules are simple: follow the smoke, trust the grill, and maybe don’t make dinner plans afterward.
The Beach Zone
For the friend who thinks every good afternoon should involve a little sunshine, a cold drink, and nowhere to be, there’s The Beach Zone. Presented by Reef Lifestyle, this laid-back corner brings the San Diego summer fantasy to the Polo Fields, complete with coastal bites, beach-inspired brands, and plenty of reasons to stay awhile.
Grab bites from Duke’s La Jolla, Jake’s Del Mar, Lofty Coffee Co., Dang Brother Pizza Co., and Coral Del Mar, then cool off with Summer Club, Volley, Surfside Iced Tea and Lemonade + Vodka, Tito’s Handmade Vodka, Mezo Mezoritas, Roseade Wine Spritzer, Pinkys, and more. Hemlock Hat Co., Coola, Sambazon, Playavole, Shibumi Shade, Spritz del Conte, and Out of the Woods add a little retail therapy to the mix, because the Grand Tasting obviously needs shopping, too.
And yes, there’s a photo op. Find the teal VW bus from A Timeless Day, gather your favorite people, and pretend you’ve spent the afternoon cruising the California coast instead of wandering around a wine and food festival.
It’s an area filled with surf-inspired games, your next favorite beach accessory, and a drink in hand. Basically, San Diego summer, condensed into one very convenient patch of grass.
Courtesy of Del Mar Wine & Food Festival
Pride Zone
Neon boas, glitter-filled drinks, and enough food to make choosing a single dinner impossible. The Pride Zone presented by San Diego Pride is bringing the energy, gathering some of San Diego’s favorite restaurants, bars, breweries, and sweet spots in one very colorful corner of the Polo Fields. Expect bites and beverages from Cary Q Wines, Gossip Grill, Rootdown & Es Okay, T’Maro Brands, and more.
Plant Paradise
Plant Paradise is your green oasis, but don’t expect it to be particularly peaceful. DJ Tenax returns with house, techno, UKG, and the kind of set that can turn a quick stop into an hour on the open-air dance floor. As Green Air Botanicals sets the mood, grab a cocktail from Mission Craft Cocktails, Makku, or San Hagen Tequila, and a bite from the sprawling lineup of plant-based bites and snacks from some of San Diego’s vegan favorites.
Kindred, Nourish Eats, The Plot, Maya’s Cookies and more. There’s also a full lineup of brands to snack your way through, including Aficio 22, Bücha Hard Kombucha, Nichols Farms, Nuts For Cheese.
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.
What Will It Take to Make San Diego a Global Arts City?
Jonathon Glus on the Art + Design District, investing in the creative economy, keeping artists in the city, and what we can learn from places like London and Chicago
Jonathon Glus is the Prebys Foundation senior fellow leading the development of the Art + Design District at the Downtown San Diego Partnership. He has been asked what an arts and design district is many times. In our conversation, I asked him instead to describe what it isn’t. His answer opened up a broader discussion about what San Diego has and hasn’t invested in, what it has the capacity to become, and what other cities have done that we haven’t. Glus speaks about global art fairs and architecture biennials in Chicago and long tables at dinner parties all with the same fluency. He also discusses who gets to live in the neighborhoods where creative work happens, and what it means when they can’t afford to stay.
Claire Johnson: You have been asked what an arts and design district is many times. Can you tell me what it isn’t?
Jonathon Glus: It is not a place designed intentionally and specifically for tourists. Of course there will be opportunities for tourists to come, but the district is really focused on creatives, on creative education, and on the creative workforce—as well as our major performing arts organizations. That is the emphasis.
What does the district need to do in the next five years for you to consider it a success?
[It needs to] develop greater connectivity between the anchor institutions—the symphony, Broadway San Diego, the opera, all the wonderful things happening in Balboa [Park]—and the creative workforce that will be living and working in that neighborhood 24/7.
What does San Diego not have that you wish it did?
We have not been intentionally investing in the contemporary art product that other major cities have been building. A contemporary art fair. A biennial that reflects the ethos of this region. Chicago developed an architecture biennial about eight years ago. London has a design biennial. Desert X, right here in Southern California, invests in and elevates contemporary artists inside a city. We have not really been playing in the global art market in a way that we have the capacity to.
What capacity do we have?
We have a wonderful foundation. Two theater companies that produce work that goes to Broadway more than many regional theaters in the country, major museums, artists teaching at UC San Diego and University of San Diego. What a city does when it wants to take itself to the next level is intentionally create the product. Miami went after the Art Basel fair; they did not passively receive it. You have to have the intention and the will, and you have to go after it. We haven’t done that in the way that other cities have.
Look at what we did with the tech sector; we’re now a major tech center. That was intentional. Leadership organized around it. We have to do the same thing around the arts. We have a lot of contemporary art collectors here. We have a lot of galleries. But the ecosystem of the business of contemporary art is not as organized or as visible as it should be.
Which city is your North Star?
It’s bits and pieces of different cities. Dubai has invested very quickly and very intentionally in contemporary art—art fairs, design fairs, higher education, artist residencies from all over the world. London has centered artists and creatives in the contemporary zeitgeist in a way that was not true 40 years ago. They built biennials. They ensured British artists had affordable housing and workspace. They made sure the media paid attention to what they were doing.
If you don’t have an artist at your dinner table, it’s not a dinner party. That sounds elitist, but it’s true. It shows the value that artists have in a community. Our relationship culturally with Tijuana is really significant here because artists in Baja seem to be at the table.
We’ve talked before about how food, fashion, design, and art aren’t siloed anymore.
They aren’t. When super creative people are in a community doing extraordinary work, that draws other super creative people doing extraordinary work. That’s why other arts and design districts around the world end up populated with some of the most interesting restaurants and young fashion designers. Creatives want to be around other creatives.
Which leads to the economic argument…
Our creative economy already employs about 170,000 people and generates more than $11 billion in economic activity. It’s large and robust. But we must center all of this in accessibility and affordability. Williamsburg used to be affordable. Artists can’t afford to live there anymore. Wicker Park and Bucktown in Chicago—artist central, now unaffordable. If we’re going to invest in this district, we have to be really intentional about housing and workspace, so creatives have a place in the future of this district.
I see all these new supper clubs and creative collectives popping up. What is the lesson there for San Diego in terms of the commercialization of cultural and creative groups?
I think the lesson is that nothing changes. What do people love? Long tables. Why? Because you’re with a lot of people—some you may have known your entire life, but most you don’t. And if it’s driven by a creative process, all the better. We know one of the best ways to do that is around food, but also music.
For the Art + Design District, part of why we’re leaning into the process is because, culturally, we’re bringing down the barriers between film, fashion, multimedia, tech, and architecture. It’s an experiential mashup in the best possible way.
And it’s not just about art and design, but community writ large. Creative expression is something we all desire. Whether it’s at a long table, at the opera, or in your studio, we gravitate toward creative expression as a way of building community and communicating with the people around us.
Is there a question I should have asked you but haven’t?
I hope you are writing about this in seven years when the district is fully mature. But this is just the beginning for all of this. I think that’s what’s most exciting to me. We don’t know what this is going to be like, but we know it’s going to be creatively centered, and that’s super exciting to me.
San Diego is full of people who deserve a few thousand words on what they make, who they bring together, and how their work changes the city around them. The artists, makers, advocates, and behind-the-scenes talent below are a small part of that larger ecosystem.
To help us narrow our list, we looked for names that kept coming up, work that reflects the diversity of our region, and people building something bigger than themselves.
Jackie is a long-time freelance journalist covering cannabis, food/restaurants, travel, labor, wine, spirits, arts & culture, design, and other topics. Her work has been selected twice for Best American Travel Writing, and she has won a variety of national and local awards for her writing and reporting.
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.
Matt Eisenberg is an award-winning writer and photographer based in San Diego. A former ESPN editor, his work has also been published by CNN, Bleacher Report and the New York Daily News.
Aaryn Belfer is a writer and editor specializing in nonfiction across art, architecture, and culture. Once upon a time, she wrote a provocative column for San Diego CityBeat (RIP). She was a runner up in the 2025 Matchbook Stories contest at the San Diego Central Library and is irrationally happy about it. Currently in her Soft Girl Era, Aaryn has expensive taste in (mostly flat) shoes and will choose a great art exhibit or live jazz concert over almost anything else. Except, possibly, Javier Bardem.
Lili Kim is a content coordinator and writer for San Diego Magazine, with experience highlighting local businesses and communities. When not writing or shooting film, she is likely brewing her seventh cup of tea of the day or strolling along Sunset Cliffs.
Emma Veidt is an editor at San Diego Magazine. She earned her bachelor's and master's degrees from the Missouri School of Journalism. She loves running, hiking, and rock climbing, but really, she mostly loves encounters with the street cats around North Park.
Gail Czyszczon is owner/copywriter at Z3 Writing and best-selling author of a children’s book series. As a strategic communications professional and editorialist, she's passionate about discovering untold stories and themes that ignite fresh conversation and true change in communities.
Kelly H. Harfouche, founder of KQ Aesthetic Society, knows firsthand that cosmetic treatments like fillers, neurotoxins, and microneedling, can not only enhance a person’s appearance and restore confidence, they have the power to truly change a person’s life. An expert injector has the ability to tailor treatments to each individual patient’s anatomy and goals for personalized results. Harfouche, a board-certified nurse practitioner, has spent nearly a decade perfecting her craft as an aesthetic injector and integrating her multifaceted artistic skills with precision patient care. Her commitment to continual education and training, plus a passion for helping people look—and feel—their best, set KQ Aesthetic Society apart in a sea of local medspas.
For many people considering nonsurgical treatments, the intent is to look refreshed and refined. KQ Aesthetic Society’s philosophy eschews a cookie cutter approach that bases treatments around units, instead working to understand each person’s unique goals, then curating a treatment plan to fit that vision. Harfouche focuses on “inclusive luxury,” the belief that everyone deserves access to aesthetic treatments, respective of budget restrictions. She develops long-standing trusted relationships with her patients, and works with each one to achieve their aesthetic objectives and address the underlying causes of their concerns.
“For me, forming an honest and open relationship with every patient who walks through the door is essential. This means understanding them on a deeper level and meeting them where they are to define and achieve their individual goals,” she says.
Drawing on her artistic background, which inspired her transition into medical aesthetics, Harfouche sees each client as a “unique canvas.” Rather than relying on standardized procedures, the practitioner’s distinctive approach combines her profound understanding of the physiological and anatomical changes associated with aging with an unwavering commitment to ongoing education about the newest products and their mechanisms of action. Her goal is to make each patient feel beautiful in their own skin and to embrace their individuality.
She has also pioneered a way to combine her talent for aesthetic artistry with her philanthropic nature. Harfouche is one of only a handful of providers using dermal fillers to treat patients with lip asymmetry and scarring resulting from cleft lip surgery. Patients travel from around the country for this transformative treatment, noting increased confidence and a restored identity. She hopes to eventually launch a training program to help fill the void in this space.
“My passion has always been connecting with people and giving back in any capacity that I can,” she says. In the rapidly advancing landscape of aesthetic medicine, you can place your confidence in Harfouche and KQ Aesthetic Society to deliver exceptional care. To learn more or book a consultation, please visit kqaestheticsociety.com.
Imagine being the song continuously getting skipped on the playlist. Not because no one wants to hear you, but because you never quite fit the moment. For years, San Diego has been that song on the touring circuit. Artists who have outgrown intimate clubs but aren’t yet filling arenas and stadiums have often passed us by, heading north to venues better suited to the size of their show. San Diego wasn’t missing the audience, it was missing the room.
That’s all about to change.
On August 17, Live Nation Entertainment announced plans to transform the historic Wonder Bread Building, which it purchased in June for $16.8 million, into a 4,000-capacity indoor venue slated to open in fall 2028. The new space will host music acts as well as private, corporate, and community events.
Currently, San Diego’s concert landscape jumps quickly from intimate clubs like the Casbah, Winston’s, and Belly Up to larger theaters, amphitheaters, arenas, and stadiums. What’s largely missing—particularly downtown—is a modern indoor room built specifically for roughly 4,000 concertgoers. This leaves a gap in mid-size venues for touring acts that land stages like the Hollywood Palladium or Boston’s MGM Music Hall at Fenway.
“We are filling a void in the market,” says John Schalk, Live Nation’s Vice President, San Diego Market. “There are other venues in town, but this […] building is just something that doesn’t currently exist.” Although SDSU’s Cal Coast Credit Union Amphitheater serves the 4,000-capacity range, its outdoor, fixed-seating arrangement isn’t as versatile as the proposed Live Nation project.
Located at 171 14th Street, just a six-minute walk from Petco Park, the building carries a century of history. Architect Eugene Hoffman designed it in 1924, a year after completing the Barcelona Apartment Hotel in Bankers Hill. The landmark brick building served as a bakery and warehouse for the Southern California Baking Company before Continental Baking Company, producers of Wonder Bread, took over in the 1950s and operated there through 1988 continued at the site until 2007.
In the early 2000s, Bob and Gay Sinclair, the couple behind a portfolio of East Village properties, purchased the building. After Bob—the founder of Pannikin Coffee & Tea—died in 2011, Gay sold much of their real estate portfolio but held onto the Wonder Bread Building. Mission Brewing eventually took over the space, where it operated for more than a decade before announcing its 2026 departure.
Now, the building is preparing for another reinvention. Live Nation plans to preserve the historic bakery’s four exterior walls, red brick façade, grain silo, barrel-vaulted trusses, and skylights as part of its next chapter.
Live Nation isn’t looking to erase its history but to celebrate it, allowing the building’s past to give the new venue some soul. “It’s really important for us that we maintain the integrity and the history of that building,” Schalk says. “There will be new construction and design elements as we go through the process to create the concert venue, but we’re working really hard to preserve it.”
Blueprint Studio, Live Nation’s in-house design and development group, and Gensler, the architecture firm behind San Diego International Airport Terminal 1 and Snapdragon Stadium, will be heading the project. The plan is to design the ground-floor space as an open, general-admission area with a premium level above with 600-plus fixed seats, in addition to box and suite sections. There will also be an additional structure built on top of the historical portion of the building (the four original walls that house the lobby) called the Vinyl Room—a Japanese-inspired hi-fi listening VIP lounge serving elevated food options.
One of the most reassuring aspects of the project is the focus on the concertgoer’s experience—specifically the “pet peeves” we all know too well: long bathroom lines, cramped exits, obstructed views. According to Schalk, one of the best things about building upon the existing structure is having the ability to consider potential obstacles and tackle them before construction begins. “I’d say we are ‘purpose building’ the entirety of the project for a music venue,” says Gensler lead project architect Garrett van Leeuwen. “As part of our design process, we do an in-depth sightline analysis to make sure that sightlines are optimized from every point and seat within the venue.”
Circulation design is also being implemented to ease traffic flow, alongside acoustic optimization and a transformative outdoor beautification effort. According to van Leeuwen, this “public realm space” will grow the existing 14-foot sidewalk to a 32-foot sidewalk complete with plazas and landscaping.
“This venue is for the fans. For the music lovers,” Schalk explains. The vision is intimate: “I want a fan to walk up to that building, see that red brick facade, grab their ticket from the box office, go into the lobby and see some of the history that will present itself… and feel like you entered a home.” Schalk also expressed a “keen interest in making sure that we work with the local artists, the local bands, the local musicians in town.” It’s a project that recognizes San Diego as a growing market that is hungry and ready to see a vibrant arts and culture community thrive.
According to an analysis by Oxford Economics analysis shared by Live Nation, the venue is projected to deliver a significant boost to the local economy, generating approximately $97 million in annual economic impact and supporting 660 jobs. This also includes welcoming 316,000 fans each year—with 126,000 traveling from outside the San Diego metro area—and driving $53 million in local spending at nearby restaurants, hotels, and retail establishments.
Considering its proximity to other major event spaces and overall busy urban areas, traffic and parking may be a concern, especially on nights of overlapping events. But in those cases, Schalk said they would work together on communication efforts; parking availability; and staggering start, end, and loading times; as well as providing easy access to designated rideshare areas. With transit stations nearby (the closest one being a 4-minute walk at 12th & Imperial), public transportation is another great option for enjoying your night out.
There are still two years of design, construction, and plenty of logistics between now and opening night. But the bigger promise of the Wonder Bread Building is simple: San Diego finally gets a venue built for the artists who have historically passed it by. After years of getting skipped on the touring playlist, the city may finally be getting its turn on repeat.
Camila Ibarra Gallego is a CaliBaja native pursuing a master's degree in culinary journalism at the Basque Culinary Center. Shaped by the culturally rich, bicultural megaregion, she's passionate about sniffing out stories that connect people, territory and culture through food. When she's not tumbling down internet rabbit holes, you can find her pretending to be a wine connoisseur at a local wine bar or nose-deep in a good book.
On February 28, 1926, the Fine Arts Gallery of San Diego (now called the San Diego Museum of Art) opened its Plateresque doors to 3,000 guests for opening day. Over the next century, the museum changed with the times—even once functioning as a naval hospital after Pearl Harbor. This year, the museum is celebrating its 100th birthday with an exhibit (open through January 24, 2027) featuring photographs, ephemera, and film footage spanning the museum’s history.
Courtesy of Tim Novara
Free Concerts at Spreckels Organ Pavilion
Every Sunday from 2 to 3 p.m., stop by the historic Spreckels Organ Pavilion for a free concert presented by the City of San Diego on the largest outdoor organ in the world (more than 5,000 pipes). The pavilion seats 2,400 for performances by the civic organist or guest artists.
Some think natural history museums are just cemeteries for dioramas that haven’t received an update since the Reagan administration. When it comes to The Nat, which just finished a $7.5 million rejuvenation, they’re totally wrong. The museum debuted a new rooftop that replaces its 25-year-old atrium. The old roof created a greenhouse effect that steamed up some exhibits, so the new one—which includes 200 solar panels and better temperature control—will help preserve the artifacts inside. Each Friday in the summer, The Nat also becomes one of the season’s vibiest hotspots during Nat at Night, with food from places like Wolf in the Woods and The Craft Taco, bars and signature cocktails on several floors, and a rooftop DJ.
Fleet Science Theater Remodel
The Fleet Science Center just received its most significant update since the 1990s. It expanded its exhibit space by 20 percent and introduced a newly designed entrance gallery (formerly the IMAX theater lobby) that includes free exhibits for visitors who want a taste of the science without paying an admission fee. The former ticketing area now houses the Mindbender Mansion exhibit, and there’s a new café, Element 8, that will, of course, sell the center’s famous soft serve.
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