When Kerry Marsh turned 70 last July, his wife Corinne threw a party at their oceanview home in Del Mar. The laidback festivities made full use of its friendly, open spaces. While a favorite musician performed Willie Nelson’s “Always on my Mind,” the couple’s three grown children and a smattering of close friends raised a toast, with the vast Pacific a scant distance away. It may have been Kerry’s birthday, but it was also the home’s debut.
Corinne and Kerry have been married for 41 years. Their family has migrated each summer from their hometown of Fort Lauderdale, Florida to North San Diego County since the kids were little. Kerry, a lifelong surfer, met Corinne at a Fort Lauderdale beach party when they were 16. He briefly studied architecture at college in Miami but soon dropped out to join friends on a five-month surfari from Baja to Guatemala. Back in Fort Lauderdale, he embarked on a development career. Today, his company converts abandoned big-box stores into storage facilities, among other large-scale projects.
Architect Brian Church’s rendering shows how the home nestles into its steep site.
Fifteen years ago, the Marshes began their search for a site in Del Mar where they could build their dream home. “In the end, it came down to a couple lots,” Kerry says. “Corinne liked this one best, and she was right.” Their one-third acre is only a stone’s throw from Torrey Pines State Beach—if the wind is right and you have a strong arm.
The Pacific Surfliner runs nearby, which doesn’t bother the Marshes. “I wanted to be close to the tracks because I love the sights and sounds of trains passing by,” Corinne says.
The Marshes’ lot formerly held a small 1950s bungalow designed by Del Mar modernist Herb Turner. While many other homes by Turner have been preserved, theirs was an obvious teardown. Their realtor had enlisted Solana Beach architect Brian Church to evaluate sites. He and the Marshes hit it off, and they tapped him for the new house’s design, which went through several iterations before it was approved by the Del Mar Design Review Board. Church’s plan was partly inspired by his love of Southern California modernists such as Richard Neutra and Rudolf Schindler, whose 100-year-old El Pueblo Ribera courtyard duplexes in La Jolla feature strong indoor-outdoor connections and simple materials.
Photo Credit: Phillip Houston Photography Torrey Pines at the edge of the property were preserved as tributes to the Marshes’ three children.
As work began, the Marshes were clear about their priorities.
“I wanted to see whitewater and the waves rolling in,” Corinne says.
“It’s always view, view, view,” Kerry adds. That may sound too simple, but it really captures the home’s essence.
Kerry was not always a fan of modernist architecture, with its spare, no-frills approach. “The design changed at least four times,” he says. “The first version was French Country with a barrel tile roof, then it went more modern, like a lot of stuff I’d seen with wood, metal, glass, and stone. In the end, I’m glad it went the way it did. I really love the house now.
Photo Credit: Phillip Houston Photography Every level of the home features decks and outdoor living spaces.
Construction began in 2018 and was completed in 2021. But it took two more years to “dial it in,” Kerry explains. “We worked on every room and went back and forth with ideas several times.” Church’s design spreads 5,000 square feet among five levels connected by steps zigzagging between wide landings. Smaller spaces tuck into the slope, while voluminous sections face sweeping coastal views. A foundation of two-foot-thick retaining walls is anchored deep in solid sandstone. The rugged base supports open interior areas as tall as 19 feet, though they seem even higher, since the open plan lets you gaze from the bottom level all the way up to the entry landing. The house may be barely visible from the street, but there’s drama over the edge.
Walls of limestone blocks, dry-stacked without mortar, and smooth-troweled stucco precisely meet floors of limestone and wood. Railings and hardware are made of steel, stainless steel, and copper. Yucca, ocotillo, snake plant, agave, prairie grasses, and other species chosen by landscape architect Greg Hebert, who died in 2022, surround the home. Together, these elements conjure dreamy nights and days in Joshua Tree or Twentynine Palms.
Photo Credit: Phillip Houston Photography A chandelier of crystal butterflies hangs in the entryway.
Kerry has often collaborated with Fort Lauderdale interior designer Michael Beamish, whose resume includes resorts in far-flung locales along with custom homes. Beamish, a charming Brit, brought a simple but elegant aesthetic that resonates with Church’s architecture. Furnishings are contemporary but subtle. Beamish used natural materials including wood grain, soft linens, and light-hued stone.
The primary suite is a fabulous lair, Corinne’s favorite place in the house for meditation, solitude, and pondering the ocean and sky. The Marshes enjoy sea views from a custom bed and swoopy freestanding tub. Beamish designed other bedroom furniture, too, like a daybed covered with organic chenille and additional pieces upholstered with fabrics from textile company Kravet. A wall of smart glass overlooks the vast, sometimes bustling central spaces. It goes opaque for privacy at the flick of a switch.
Photo Credit: Phillip Houston Photography Above the fireplace is a custom surfboard like ones designed for big waves at Todos Santos.
A chandelier of crystal butterflies hangs in the entry. Nearby is an industrial-strength, steel-and-glass elevator like the one Kerry saw in a remodeled historical building in Switzerland. The kitchen features stainless steel appliances and light-toned Taj Mahal quartzite countertops. The adjacent dining and living room holds a plush Nathan Anthony sofa and Adriana Hoyos side chairs. Mounted over the built-in gas fireplace and flat-screen TV is a hardwood surfboard matching the contours of boards designed by legendary shaper Gary MacNabb for big waves at Todos Santos, the epic south-of-the-border break. This life-size replica is too heavy for surfing, but it’s a fabulous example of the surfboard shaper’s art.
Photo Credit: Phillip Houston Photography The primary suite is a romantic retreat with custom furniture and fabrics, as well as photographer Aaron Chang’s triptych of dried leaves.
Recessed shelves line walls on each floor. They hold a fascinating, sometimes amusing array of family memorabilia, ranging from framed photos to ceramic objects and a model of cartoonish characters aboard a VW convertible towing a teardrop trailer. Most rooms showcase images by North County photographer Aaron Chang, best known for shots of surfers and coastal landscapes. Many of those are on view, but visitors wandering through will also see Chang’s abstract photos of oceanic textures and colors, as well as a triptych over the primary bed of large dried leaves that he came across in the Dominican Republic.
All told, the home is an homage to the stretch of Southern California coastline just outside its doors—which, for the Marshes, is what it’s all about.
“We wake up every morning, get our coffee, and sit on the patio, and my wife does not want to go back to Florida,” Kerry says. “I walk down the trail and surf behind the house. We walk on the beach every day.”
Photo Credit: Phillip Houston Photography Limestone walls and white oak floors come together with soft-hued textiles and comfortable, modern furniture to create quietly elegant rooms.
“I love waking up here,” Corinne adds. “I raise the blinds and do a prayer and look out and feel like I’m so blessed to have this view in the morning and the sunsets at night. We both grew up middle-class, and we feel very lucky we’ve come this far and get to live here. It was always our dream, when we were young, to live on the ocean and see the whitewater coming in. We got pretty much everything we asked for.”
That includes a vanishing-edge pool, just past the built-in wet bar and custom pool table and through broad sliding glass doors. Lined with dark pea gravel, bordered by blue glass tiles and ipe hardwood decking, and furnished with chairs and chaise longues from RH Outdoor, it’s the centerpiece of this outdoor living room, a lovely place to relax most days of the year. At the property’s back edge grow three Torrey Pines that are special to Corinne—she preserved them as tributes to her three children. From just the right angle at sunset, you can imagine that the pool spills through the silhouetted trees and into the Pacific.
Dirk Sutro has written about architecture and design for a variety of publications. He is the author of architectural guidebooks to San Diego and UC San Diego and contributes a monthly column called CityScape to Times of San Diego online.
Food is a notorious diva to photograph. The wrong lighting can make José Andrés’ paella look like a jaundiced grain bowl. You could be staring at the best sandwich of your life, but shoot it from above and—hey, congrats on that abandoned piece of lettuce bread. A cottage meme industry has been built around the hilariously bad photos on review sites that make Michelin-star food look like Michelin tires.
Especially in a visual modern media world, food culture depends on great photographers capturing the painstaking work in equally deserving ways. We asked four of San Diego’s top food photographers for their favorite shot from another year of documenting what we eat.
Photo Credit: Kimberly Motos
Kimberly Motos
Birdman Sandwich at Chick & Hawk
Getting this kind of shot takes a bit of yoga. Asana yourself into the corner, hold your breath, pray that a chef on the move doesn’t back into your light stand.
“You’re stepping into someone’s workspace during their busiest moments, so it’s a balance of being present to get the shot and being invisible to not slow anything down,” Kimberly Motos says.
The subject here is the Birdman sandwich from Chick & Hawk—hot fried chicken thigh, tangy slaw, kimchi comeback sauce, sweet and spicy pickles, potato brioche bun—getting a hearty dousing of its difference-maker seasoning. Motos captures the parts of the process that diners don’t usually see: the chaos behind something that looks so simple.
Photo Credit: Lucianna McIntosh
Lucianna McIntosh
Oysters + Jewel of the Sea Martini at The Fishery
“I love this image because it feels like a moment you want to step into,” says Lucianna McIntosh. A warm, sunny day at The Fishery in PB with oysters, caviar, and martinis. Yes, please.
The little details—the glass sweating a little, the direct afternoon light creating stark shadows, the oyster glistening on the tray—are the main characters. Instead of trying to overly control the setup, McIntosh “followed the light and lines that draw you in more,” she says. “This was one of those moments where everything lined up on its own for a second. I love it when the shadows end up being just as important as the food itself.”
Photo Credit: Eric Wolfinger
Eric Wolfinger
Herb-Roasted Golden Chicken at Fleurette
La Jolla native Eric Wolfinger—who won a James Beard Award for Tartine Bread, one of the most stunning bread books of all time—says he doesn’t have a signature style. His style is a conduit.
“I see my job is to translate the chef’s point of view into something you can feel,” he says.
For this shot, Fleurette chef Travis Swikard had one directive: cuisine du soleil (“cuisine of the sun”). With a spread of leeks vinaigrette, herb-roasted golden chicken, and beets, Wolfinger wanted to create a scene that felt straight out of the French Riviera, relaying the light, bright style of Swikard’s new spot.
Some bonus additions here: Extra lights—to add lots of warmth—and a clipping from an olive tree.
Photo Credit: Dee Sandoval
Dee Sandoval
Espresso Ice Cream at Lucien
Timing and light are everything in food photography. In Lucien—La Jolla’s tasting-menu-only restaurant with moody ambiance—a single strobe flash creates the ideal spotlight.
Dee Sandoval says she uses the “natural, just-plated energy” of the dish to “create a portrait of moment and craft.” That’s why this Mostra Ghost Bear espresso ice cream—with San José dark chocolate mousse, soy-miso caramel, and koji shoyu chocolate sauce—looks like it might dissolve halfway to your mouth.
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.
The floor is made of glass. Under your feet, you can see the cellar—15-foot ceilings, soft light, and stained white oak walls the color of desert silt.
Tucked behind the wood, inside the doors, and in the ceiling is a highly advanced and very specific network of tech assembled in San Marcos—perfectly calibrating the room for humidity and temperature with vapor barriers, specialized insulation, and LED lights. Along the walls on matte blag pegs lay 1,000-plus bottles of wine—some iconic collector vintages, some with stories, some earmarked for major life moments.
This is a very serious wine home, built by someone whose obsession eventually leads to a call with Chris Noel.
“We have some clients who have been collecting wine since the ’60s and the ’70s, and they have collections of 15,000 or 20,000 or more bottles,” says Noel, owner of Vintage Cellars, the San Marcos–based designer of custom wine vaults for some of the region’s top restaurants and super-collectors. “[For them], collecting wine is similar to Jay Leno collecting cars.”
Courtesy of Vintage Cellars
Before the wheel, there was wine. Fermenting fruit sugars into alcohol was a thing as early as 4100 B.C. (wheel, circa 3500 B.C.), most likely a happy accident. Unsurprisingly, the tipsy breakthrough in juice arts was a huge hit. The challenge was that it was also hugely perishable.
The first efforts to save it from spoil were clay vessels called amphora, often fully or partially buried to create a sun-proof, temperature-stable environment. The terra-cotta pots were pointy-bottomed, which stacked and traveled better, encouraged gas circulation (thus preventing oxidation, the famed wine ruiner), and helped separate sediments.
Once basic preservation was figured out, makers noticed the aging process ushered in a moodier magic. So they engineered structures to tinker with the possibilities of the long haul. Those first wine holes in the dirt evolved into entire catacombs, tombs, quarries, and caves.
Courtesy of Vintage Cellars
Ancient Romans engineered wine storage rooms called fumariums, built facing north to avoid the sun and filled with smoke to speed the aging process (no doubt rapidly aging the cellar workers in the process).
For centuries, specialized wine storage was mostly a commercial venture. Serious wine people would (and still do) outsource their collections to a bonded storage facility or turn to professional cellarers who run giant chilled warehouses of cabernets.
A few major social moments sparked a more serious at-home cellar trend. First, the “Judgment of Paris” in 1976 (California wines famously besting the French in a blind tasting) established US wineries as worthy of collections.
A few years later came the 1982 Bordeaux, one of the most-coveted vintages in history. It was championed by a US lawyer named Robert Parker, whose 100-point scale rating system would quickly become the gold-standard for grading wines, creating a huge boom of wine collectors for the next few decades (wine as an economic investment became a thing).
The US economy also boomed in the ’80s, while France hit a skid. With the dollar trading 6-1 against the franc, US collectors had a rare chance to pick up Grand Crus at serious bargains, which demanded equally serious storage.
Courtesy of Vintage Cellars
Given that framing, 1990 was a fairly great time for Vintage Cellars to get into the game. Noel—who worked his way up at the company and then eventually took over as owner in 2020—and his team work with architects, designers, and builders to create cellars that both fit the space and act as an attraction in multimillion-dollar homes across the region, and at top restaurants like Pamplemousse Grille in Del Mar and Avant Restaurant in Rancho Bernardo Inn. They hide cooling systems in brick-walled enclosures, bend bottle racks around curved walls, create standalone pavilions—engineer structures for cabs.
Their cellars hover between 50 to 70 percent humidity to keep the cork appropriately moist. Air too dry, and a cracked cork will give up the ghost—O2, in excess, turns wine into vinegar. If the air’s too dry, it can shrink the cork, eventually evaporating the wine and creating a low pressure that will pull in destruction. Too humid, and mold contaminates the works.
Light’s a big no-no for wine, too. Incandescent or halogen lights were the norm for cellars 20 years ago, but they emitted heat. Like Schrödinger’s Cat, these bulbs would risk the subject in order to view it. Vintage Cellars adopts LED lighting and, for glass cellars in the sightline of bright windows, mechanized shades that lower during UV exposure times.
Custom circumference-cut cove trays, leather saddles, and pegs stabilize bottles in Vintage Cellars storage areas; movement disturbs the tannins and upsets the aging process. And these cellars are smart, with app-based monitoring, remote temperature monitoring, and eSommelier cellar management. Don’t fret, Siri’s got your Syrah.
The most important decision, however, is deciding when to uncork that special bottle.
“[A lot of times, people] are saving those wines for specific moments in life—maybe a 50th anniversary or when their firstborn turns 21,” says Noel. “That’s how they look at it: as social and also to create memories.”
Pete Peterson has served as high as Editor-in-Chief of an enthusiast media magazine and as low as writer of his own bio… In addition to contributing to San Diego Magazine, Pete authored the YA novel One Tiger One Teen and is working on his second novel. Slightly more info is available at petepetersonauthor.com.
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.
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.
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.”
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.
His ascent has been stealth and humble, which fits the man. When Liberty Station was struggling to convince people it existed over a decade ago, Sicilian chef Accursio Lota’s food at Solare Ristorante was a tractor beam for food people who sniff out hidden talent like truffle dogs. In 2017, he won the World Pasta Championship (a legit competition from global pasta brand Barilla) and struck out on his own, opening his and his wife’s from-scratch pasta trattoria in North Park (Cori Pastificio). Gambero Rosso—the Italian version of Michelin, the most respected source—has clamored for the restaurant since it opened, naming it “New Opening of the Year” and this year giving it their highest award, “Tre Forchette” (Three Forks), only knighted on a handful of US restaurants.
So this year, Lota opened his grandest thing—Dora Ristorante—and it pulls everything together. Steps from San Diego’s world-class theater, La Jolla Playhouse, it’s laden with brass and large-format murals, tile work and mosaics—like the one on the wood-burning oven that blisters, chars, and smokes a good portion of the menu. Their housemade focaccia is a new street drug (try it with the puttanesca, his grandmother Dora’s recipe). The olive oil-cured sardines make “sustainable seafood” and ethics not taste like a compromise. Dora might finally be the one to solve the “where do I eat before the world premiere at LJP” dilemma.
The yuzu-colored building that helped build North Park’s modern food culture is alive again. Years ago, the ornate French Quarter–inspired spot on 30th Street was home to chef Matt Gordon’s Urban Solace (duck macaroni and cheese). Then it laid conspicuous and fallow until a few months ago when Bacari took it on. It’s an LA transplant, but they’re proving forgivable of that trespass. Chef and co-founder Lior Hillel cooked at Jean-Georges before opening the first of this Venetian-style restaurant in 2008 with brothers Danny and Robert Kronfi (Bobby started his food venture with a pop-up dinner series in his college apartment at USC).
For dinner, it’s house-baked bread, crudo and shrimp ceviches, Mediterranean street corn, lamb hummus, shawarma, and glazed pork belly. Weekend brunch is bellinis and French toast and burekas (famed Jewish stuffed puff pastry), and chef Noa’s cauliflower (caramelized with chipotle). It’s Italian-ish with a heavy dose of pan-Mediterranean and Middle Eastern. Doesn’t hurt that they left the iconic exterior as is, adding chandelier-farmhouse insides with charm that echoes two of the city’s dearly departed (Jayne’s Gastropub, Cafe Chloe).
Courtesy of TRUST Restaurant Group
À L’ouest
Much tolerance for friends who hate mussels because they look too biological. But if they manage to dislike À L’ouest’s—served over ice with vadouvan curry aioli and chili crisp—then you’ve successfully identified your brokemouth friend and should try bicycling or crafting with them to bond instead of eating in public places. It should be on everyone’s short list for dish of the year.
Chef Brad Wise and his team have earned their rep over multiple concepts—Trust, Fort Oak, Cardellino, Wise Ox, Rare Society. But he’s been eyeing this corner of North Park since before he opened his first (Trust, in 2016). North Park has been rising for a while, and À L’ouest feels like the missing piece—an indoor-outdoor brasserie stunner on the marquee spot of 30th and University, which long sat boarded up and vacant like a neighborhood missing a front tooth.
As with his other concepts, woodpile is king; smoldering red oak boosts the flavor of just about everything. Get the spätzle with braised rabbit, maitake mushroom, secret de compostelle (the famed Basque sheep’s milk cheese), and black truffle. Or the chicken liver parfait with persimmon, fennel aigre-doux (sweet-sour), and chives on toast. Or, like everyone else in there—the steak frites.
Photo Credit: Eric Wolfinger
Fleurette
Chef Travis Swikard’s first solo restaurant, Callie in East Village, proved how details can make the most composed of us blubber a little in fine places—from citrus left in ovens overnight to blacken and transform, to the Scripps Oceanographic Institute saltwater he keeps his spot prawns thriving in until ordered, to the days-long fermentation and stone-ground dukkah that turn carrot shavings into a statement piece.
Now, he’s focusing on French food with a fitter, less buttery San Diego heart. Fleurette is his doubling-down, a SoCal riff on the food he learned under mentors Daniel Boulud and Gavin Kaysen. The French gave us the mother sauces, and Fleurette showcases the lightest and brightest evolutions. Like the anchoïade on his beef tartare, which uses famed Italian anchovy sauce colatura di alici, mixed with cured egg yolks over tiny, uniform-sized cubes of raw, USDA Prime Flannery beef.
There is soubise (onion sauce), a sauce vierge (tomatoes and herbs), and a fennel marmalade on the duck liver and bone marrow pâté. Although the structure is stunningly pure glass, Fleurette’s in a location—an office park on the edge of La Jolla, near UTC—that few chefs would be able to pull off. But Swikard’s Michelin-bound house of saucework pulls hard.
The Escondido taqueria from Rosarito-born-and-trained chef Juan González and farmer Megan Strom took the county by storm this year. The married couple started as a popup four years ago, hosting farmside dinners before taking up residency at Vino Carta in Solana Beach. Strom was working a small, 5-acre heirloom bean farm in Valley Center owned by Mike Reeske (aka “The Bean Man”) when he retired and sold them the plot.
The huge bonus was that the sale included Reeske’s famed collection of beans, curated over 20 years. The couple planted other things and now grow much of what they serve in the form of tacos and burritos at a permanent spot in Escondido: Mesa Agrícola.
The menu’s bone simple: housemade tortillas in your choice of taco or burrito norteños (which are smaller, like burritos de hielera) that change constantly and often topped with guisados (Mexican braises or stews) like lamb and garbanzo, birria, chicharrón, mushrooms al ajillo, rajas, you name it. And, of course, some of the best beans honoring the local legend of Reeske.
Courtesy of Lucien
Lucien
San Diego is now the recipient of national food buzz. The dark ages—during which we learned how to sear ahi and asada some carne and called it a day—felt prolonged, and they were. The problem was never ingredients. San Diego County always had the best raw dinner materials (more small farms per capita than any county in the US, seafood right there); it just didn’t have a critical mass of highly trained chefs to do them justice. Easy to understand the chef dearth.
For a very long time, if you wanted to be a serious chef you had to go to the restaurant superplexes of New York, San Francisco, or Chicago (which imported their raw ingredients from places like San Diego). But now—credit farmers or Alice Waters or Dan Barber or Michael Pollain or the reasonable conclusion that food picked right here tastes better than food picked way over there—some of the most talented chefs are moving to the ingredients, not the other way around.
In San Diego, we got Richard Blais, Swikard, and now Elijah Arizmendi, who cut his teeth in Vegas with Joel Robuchon (plus Boulud and Thomas Keller) and was chef de cuisine at NYC’s L’abeille when it got its first Michelin star. His debut restaurant in La Jolla—with partners Brian Hung and Melissa Yang—is a dark, moody multicourse tasting-menu hideaway with one of the best egg dishes in the city.
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.
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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