I’m squeeze-bottling housemade hot sauce onto head tacos at Don Pedro. The café curtains have faded into a homey ghost cloth. The windows are hand-painted in those big bubble letters, so iconic and recognizable—the taco shop window font, the street art of the screaming deal.
Don Pedro is one of those vital, everyday spots with solid Mexican specials like the celebration-and-hangover-star menudo or pozole soup with its hominy kernels so large, it eats like a warm and spicy boba tea. I get two sizable tacos (cabeza, carne asada), a generous “corn in a cup” (esquites, Mexican street corn), and a large bottled water for $14. A real-life place, priced for real people and regulars.
The esquites are piled so high with cheese that they resemble a hot sno-cone. Cotija and crema spill onto the vinyl table as I excavate kernels. It is crema-corn soup, delicious as it is nutritionally truant. The carne asada is cooked without mercy; the tender cabeza has an unshy organ funk, which you either appreciate (I do) or wish were chicken.
Don Pedro and other stalwart spots like La Bella Pizza (opened in 1955) represent the humble icons of tradition of Chula Vista’s Third Avenue. They are stabilizing elements for the riskier new food-and-drink concepts that are necessary for the next phase.
A 2,000-or-so-year-old Third Ave. institution, Don Pedro Taco Shop is an icon. Photo Credit: James Tran
It takes just a few feet to go from the past to the future and back again on Third Ave. You see it in the pawn shop next to the minimalist modern Mexican cantina, the vacuum store a few doors down from the tiki speakeasy, the Christian Science reading room across from the Food Network baker and third-wave coffee roaster.
There are a billion salons here (human hair has never been so loved). Large, sparkly event halls for weddings and quinceañeras, dance troupes choreographing inside and out on the sidewalks on off nights. Around them are jewelry stores and gown shops, a vape depot and a tattoo parlor, budget massages. Big, shiny breweries and scaffolding and construction paper pointing to what’s next.
The antique typewriter in the display window of the Star-News—South Bay’s newspaper since 1954, with roots back to 1888—has told the stories of ebb and flow for one of San Diego’s strongest Hispanic communities (Latinos make up 60 percent of Chula Vista’s population, per the 2022 census). After a decade-long, $14.1 million overhaul and a gold-rush on homes across San Diego County, this sacred street is in the throes of another boom. Tire-kickers, converts, and charlatans—they’re all coming here, or Googling what “here” is.
The Centennial at The Balboa South: double patty, double bacon, double cheese, double blackout. Photo Credit: James Tran
Right now, Third Avenue is a ’tweener biding its time between radically different identities. This has always been one of the county’s more charming, approachable downtowns, with its fair share of unsanitized grit. Vibrant gathering spots abutting torn pockets. Exciting and imperfect. What’s next, and likely, is a growth not seen since the lemons or the bombs that built this place.
Third Ave. finished its multimillion infrastructure-shoring and beautification process on time and with terrible timing— just as Covid swept the leg of the world. Undeterred, in 2021 they hired New City America, the local urban-planning group who transformed Little Italy from a modest red-sauce haven into a glistening parade of restaurants and bars, a national attraction. They started with a rebrand: Third Ave. is now officially renamed Downtown Chula Vista. “Mixed-use” is on many tongues.
In 2023, mere moments away at the waterfront, construction crews broke ground on Gaylord Pacific, a billion-dollar, 22-story resort and convention center that will seismically shift the gravity of the whole county.
Angel Muñoz, manager at The Balboa South, offers an amiable lecture on fine burgers. Photo Credit: James Tran
Everyone knows what’s coming. Density, growth, change. Cultures will meet, collaborate, clash, combine, divide, settle. The g-word and its eternal discomfort will be part of this. Great food will be made; huckster Instagram food will be plated. Enthusiastic hellos and hard goodbyes.
As the pinball scores on Zillow remind us, the high demand for San Diego life is mocking supply. There are few things San Diego hates more than building enough places for people to live. Between 2000 and 2024, Chula Vista saw staggering growth, adding 105,000 residents. On the bright side, all this human-cramming is pretty good news for pursuers of quality food and drink. Top chefs, cocktail nerds, and ambitious restaurant operators used to only have eyes for intensely populated neighborhoods in the county’s smack-dab center: Hillcrest, North Park, Little Italy. Now, the rest of us also get food.
At La Nacional, get the ribeye taco and the chicharrón, a primitive slab of porky splendor. Photo Credit: James Tran
Located between San Diego Bay and the foothills, with a massive water supply thanks to the Sweetwater Dam, Chula Vista was always primed for a more combustive growth than the rest of the county.
Over a century ago, this was where the country’s monocle-wealthy came to grow lemons. If you wanted to live here in the early 1900s, you were required to produce them. You had to buy at least five acres and riddle your land with citrus. That’s why Chula Vista became the lemon capital of the world (the annual Lemon Festival pays tribute) around Prohibition. A train once railed through these streets to haul the harvest. Lemon workers fueled one of the first major housing booms.
During WWII, priorities shifted. A company called Rohr Industries started making the B24 bomber, a plane that had the speed and load capacity to properly ruin a Nazi’s day. Rohr employed 9,000 people, robbing the lemonaires of their labor force but tripling Chula Vista’s population in a decade. Third Avenue’s importance and lore as the marrow of the community grew with it.
Darth Vader goes hard at Vogue Tavern. Photo Credit: James Tran
“I always came to Third Ave. as a kid,” says Claudia Sandoval, a MasterChef winner who grew up in nearby National City. “This is where all the action in South Bay happened.”
We’re eating a decent soft pretzel with beer cheese and drinking a shockingly good hibiscus michelada (like a spicy agua fresca mixed with a beer over ice) at Vogue Tavern. The tavern is a German-ish beer hall filled with ’80s video-game art and pop-cult sci-fi paraphernalia. It’s owned by Dr. Gonzalo Quintero, a South Bay lifer whose family also owns La Bella. It is always packed, its TVs tuned to sports. Every bar and restaurant in Chula Vista has a TV tuned to sports. The biggest-best TV screen race is being admirably fought citywide.
Photo Credit: James Tran Have one or two tiki drinks at Lime in the Coconut, and you’ll be seeing fireworks, too.
A few doors down, Lime in the Coconut is one of the more ambitious newcomers, opened by husband and wife Kevin Rhodes and Christianne Penunuri, who’ve lived in Chula Vista for nearly 30 years. It’s got giant-flower wallpaper, a not-so-secret speakeasy, tiki drinks designed by Snake Oil Cocktail Co., and a chef in Jeremy Galapon, who cooked at San Diego’s tiki icon Bali Hai, as well as George’s at the Cove. South Bay native Claudette Zepeda (Top Chef, Iron Chef) pointed me here for the musubi balls, deep-fried sushi rice with small kernels of Spam inside, hidden like processed meat diamonds.
Not to quibble with Thr3e Punk Ales, but we count five punks. Photo Credit: James Tran
Rhodes and Penunuri also own nearby Groundswell Brewing. Craft beer all but ignored South Bay for decades until Novo Brazil broke that seal in 2015, followed by Navy-vet Timothy Parker’s Chula Vista Brewery, and then the two-story and impressively TV’ed Thr3e Punk Ales. Now, New City America has cited craft beer as one of the catalysts for Chula Vista’s transformation.
At La Nacional, a minimal-hip Mexican cantina that smells like mezcal and designer clothes, they serve full Flinstonian chicharrónes—huge chunks of deep-fried pork with meat, fat, salt, and that famed crispy skin. It’s a primitively beautiful way to ride in an ambulance.
With frosting and fabulousness, Mmm…Cakes brings the work of made-on-TV baker Jose Barajas to Third Avenue. Photo Credit: James Tran
Third Avenue’s beloved baker is Jose Barajas, who grew up here and worked at cake-supply store Standlee’s for years. In 2014, he appeared on TLC’s Next Great Baker, which parlayed into both on-air and behind-the-scenes culinary work on Food Network shows like Cake Wars and Food Network Challenge. With his brother and sister-in-law, he finally opened Mmm… Cakes, a gourmet cake shop and café that’s tacky-lovely with its VIP cake booth and shrine to The Golden Girls.
For burgers, the whole city seems to head to The Balboa South (a sister concept to The Balboa in Bankers Hill), where co-owner Mariana Cardenas has a story that’ll dampen any eye. A former chef in the Navy, she was supporting her four kids as a server at The Balboa South until the owners flat-out gave her the establishment. A gift to a woman they adored. She called government services the next day to let them know the Cardenas family would no longer need assistance, then offered half the ownership to her lifelong friend (they’d promised if either won the lottery, they’d give the other a million, and this was her lottery ticket).
One of South Bay’s most beloved chefs, Priscilla Curiel, should, by press time, have opened two concepts on Third Avenue: the third iteration of her famed roasted bone marrow taco joint, Tuétano, and the second location of her burritos de hielera café, Mujer Divina. Eventually, someone will finish remodeling the vintage Vogue Theater (acclaimed design house Tecture had signed on to do it, but the pandemic drained their capacity to take it on, and they had to pull out).
As Third Ave. overflows and rents rise, new blood will take to nearby streets. (Tijuana’s renowned taco shop Las Ahumaderas just opened its first stateside location in Chula Vista a few miles down the road.) The spread will bring people and money to the area, which is neither good nor bad. Growth just is.
“The community of business owners on Third [is] tight,” Zepeda says. “They frequent each other’s spots and give love to one another.” One evening, I pass a storefront with vintage quartz tile on the ground outside. Bronze letters etched underfoot spell out the word “Karl’s.” It was once the home of Karl’s Shoes, but it’s now Dame Más Cafeína, a brand-new café and hair salon (again, hair, you are so loved here). Now doesn’t always have to erase then.
On certain nights, Third Avenue—sorry, Downtown Chula Vista(old habits die hard)—is slow-ish, not quite filling the rafters of the dream. It seems to be occupying the purgatory between “if you build it” and “they will come.”
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.
After 15 years married, my husband and I tend to agree on most things. But there’s one argument we both refuse to bend on—I prefer okonomiyaki Osaka-style, and he’s a die-hard Hiroshima-style devotee. (To be fair, we both adore both styles, but at this point, it’s just fun to have a low-stakes disagreement.)
Okonomiyaki is one of Japan’s greatest comfort foods, a savory pancake that’s about the size of a DVD, if you aren’t too young to know what that is. It’s not terribly hard to make—it’s flour, eggs, dashi stock or water, and a whole heap of shredded cabbage, plus optional fillings like green onions, pork belly, or bonito flakes, all cooked fresh on a flat top griddle. Drizzle some kewpie mayo and okonomiyaki sauce on top, and you’re hot to go.
However, it’s not easy to make well, and as you now know, people have capital-O Opinions about Osaka-versus-Hiroshima. Hiroshima-style layers the ingredients one by one rather than mixing them together, adding a layer of soba or udon noodles and topping it all off with a fried egg. For Osaka-style, all the ingredients are mixed together and then cooked on the griddle, so every bite includes every ingredient in a hodgepodge of deliciousness. (One Osaka variation called modan-yaki does include soba noodles mixed in the batter, but they’re not traditionally used in that regional version.)
Despite a childhood spent in Osaka, Japan, Kumi Alexander specializes in making Hiroshima-style okonomiyaki. “Okonomiyaki has been part of my life for as long as I can remember,” she explains. “My parents ran their own business when I was growing up, so Saturdays were often busy, and okonomiyaki was one of my mother’s go-to lunches because it was simple and easy to make.”
Alexander came to San Diego seven years ago with a desire to bring a part of her culture with her—not just a product, but a feeling. “When I thought about what could do that, the answer was almost obvious: okonomiyaki,” she says.
She originally launched Surf’n Slaw as a mobile pop-up food stand in August 2025, offering what Alexander calls Japanese-meets-California okonomiyaki. “Our full Surf’n Slaw includes cabbage, noodles, umami dough, beef, shrimp, and vegetables,” she explains. The menu also has a “Green Wave Slaw,” an Osaka-style version that can be made vegan and gluten-free, as well as matcha drinks.
Currently, Surf’n Slaw pops up at farmers markets in North Park, Scripps Ranch, Hillcrest, La Jolla, and La Mesa, as well as other local markets and community events. Eventually, she may expand to a permanent location, but that’s a future goal. And while Alexander hopes that one day okonomiyaki will be as well-known to American audiences as ramen or sushi, for now, she’s just happy to share a bit of home with San Diego.
Izola Bakery announced big plans for a second location and bakery HQ (checks notes) over three years ago and it’s kind of been crickets since then. But there may be movement in the expansion plan—the East Village bakery recently put out a hiring call for “the people we need to help us build what’s next.” Here’s hoping things get cooking (or baking, as the case may be) soon.
As a California-born, East Coast-raised foodie, I can confidently say the East Coast has the deli game on lock. So whenever anyone announces they’re bringing an East Coast-style sandwich to the West Coast, I remain cautiously optimistic until proven otherwise. (Big Jim’s in Pacific Beach is a phenomenal example of a transplant done exceptionally well.) Los Angeles-based Ggiata Delicatessen recently announced plans to open a location in Encinitas, promising authentic Italian staples like meatball parmesan subs, cheesesteaks, and Italian cold cuts. Don’t let me down, guys!
Unfortunately, it’s not all openings and expansions. Nola on 5th in Hillcrest permanently ceased operations without warning or explanation. We can probably pick from one (or more) squares on Restaurant Closure Bingo for the reason (increased costs for ingredients, labor, equipment, etc.), but for the jambalaya enthusiast, it doesn’t really matter why. It’s simply adieu to a slice of The Big Easy in San Diego.
Listen Now: The Latest in San Diego’s Food and Drink Scene
Have breaking news, exciting scoops, or great stories about new San Diego restaurants or the city’s food scene? Send your pitches to [email protected].
Beth Demmon is an award-winning writer and podcaster whose work regularly appears in national outlets and San Diego Magazine. Her first book, The Beer Lover's Guide to Cider, is now available. Find out more on bethdemmon.com.
Tokyo unquestionably holds the title as one of the best, if not the best, food cities of the world. But despite the plethora of Michelin-starred kaiseki restaurants and hole-in-the-wall ramen joints, you’d be remiss in walking past glowing signs beckoning you to enter one of the 56,000-plus konbini across the country.
Konbini cafes like Lawson’s, FamilyMart, and 7-Eleven may look like run-of-the-mill convenience stores, but convenience store culture is a completely different animal there. Absent are the sad, floppy hot dogs sizzling sweatily on a rotating wheel of misery. Instead, konbini are stocked with a bevy of hot and cold drinks in every imaginable flavor, meals like tamago sandos (Japanese egg salad sandwiches) and prepacked bento boxes, snacks like onigiri (handheld triangles of rice and seaweed, often filled with fish or pickled plum), and even limited-edition merchandise (not unlike Wawa’s line of merch).
Soon, Hillcrest will get a taste of konbibi culture. Hako Hako opens in front of Uptown Inn by Vantaggio, next to Ramen Ryoma, in early 2027.
Kenji Blouin-Ito, a half-Japanese, half-French San Diego native grew up eating Japanese food at home and during trips across the Pacific. “I remember looking forward to eating bentos on the train,” he says, grabbing quick items to munch on without sacrificing quality or succumbing to cost. When in France, he saw a rise of appreciation for casual Japanese cuisine, “long before it happened here.”
Courtesy of Hako Hako | Photo Credit: @josh_walker.26_genteel
So he decided to bring it here. After AB 626 passed in 2018 to allow different jurisdictions to permit Microenterprise Home Kitchen Operations (MEHKOs), Blouin-Ito launched Foodnome, the first legal marketplace for homemade food in the US. Eventually, the national nonprofit The Cook Alliance took over the project, leaving him open to the next new idea but with the experience of running a food-based business.
“That experience changed how I think about food, not just what makes it good but what makes it work,” he explains. Bento boxes felt affordable in a time of inflation, convenient in a bustling world, and versatile to a variety of palates. When he got the chance to open a konbini himself, he went for it.
His family runs Uptown Inn, a mix of apartments and hotel rooms that’s seen increased food traffic over the past few years. “We had a small space in front of the building that wasn’t being used, and it just made sense,” he says. Hako means “box” in Japanese, a reference to both bentos and small space from where he’ll sling freshly made bentos, coffee, drinks, pastries, snacks, and a small retail selection.
Hako Hako will initially open for morning and afternoon hours, but you don’t have to wait until next year to get a taste of Japanese culture. Blouin-Ito’s concept is popping up at various coffee shops around San Diego, with a few coming up: Easy Does It on September 19 and Cafe Moto on October 17. Until then, practice the art of gaman: patience with grace.
Hako Hakoopens at 819 University Avenue in Hillcrest in early 2027.
Sushi Tadokoro held on to its Michelin star for three years—no mean feat for anyone. But now, the Old Town restaurant is changing things up, eliminating lunch and à la carte service at the end of September before transforming into an omakase-only experience in October. The dining room will close from October 1 through October 22 to make the change, but promises it will be “more intimate. More personal. More focused on each guest and every piece we serve.” Sounds worth the wait.
Bock brought new life to South Park when the German-inspired beer bar opened after a long construction process by owner Brian Jensen (Vino Carta, Bottlecraft). Now, Bock is getting its own shot in the arm with a new in-house kitchen from the people behind Majorette, Love Letters Pizza, and Scrimshaw Coffee. Kurz, or “quick” in German, is already open, serving European-inspired bites like the requisite currywurst, Bavarian pretzel, and schnitzel, along with some newcomers like a pierogi and famous “Majorette burger.” (I can confirm it’s a damn good burger.) Reminder: Bock and Kurz are 21+, so leave the kinders at home.
The popular Japanese dessert chain Warabimochi Kamakura already has 70-plus locations in Japan, Australia, China, Thailand, and the U.K. (to name a few), but is finally opening a location in Convoy District at 8322 Clairemont Blvd. After a successful pop-up test run at Asa Bakery, Warabimochi Kamakura will bring its signature warabimochi (a traditional simple, jelly-like dessert), plus tea like matcha and hojicha, as well as soft serve as soon as October, but possibly November. (Although warabimochi is sometimes considered a summer treat, I’m pretty sure I can make an exception for autumn.)
Listen Now: The Latest in San Diego’s Food and Drink Scene
Have breaking news, exciting scoops, or great stories about new San Diego restaurants or the city’s food scene? Send your pitches to [email protected].
Beth Demmon is an award-winning writer and podcaster whose work regularly appears in national outlets and San Diego Magazine. Her first book, The Beer Lover's Guide to Cider, is now available. Find out more on bethdemmon.com.
Two San Diego Wine Pros Are Betting Big on Tinned Fish
With Sosal Line, Heidi Greenwood and Juerie Masters are importing traceable seafood from small producers and building a global pantry business along the way
Courtesy of Sosal Line | Photo Credit: Madison Daube
No matter your job, it’s helpful to find some sort of joy in it to avoid going completely insane. Some people savor the variety of personalities when dealing with customers. Others find comfort in the predictability of closing a bar after last call, counting tips and wiping counters. Perhaps achieving Inbox Zero really gets your blood pumping, or shipping a new product design sparks joy.
For Heidi Greenwood and Juerie Masters, work doesn’t get better than logistics and operations.
“[We] both love all the unsexy parts of supply chain and backend management,” laughs Greenwood. Tracking outbound orders? Ensuring compliance? Managing inbound freight? Stop me if this is getting too hot for you!
Not enough people think about the unsexy reality of running a business before launch, but effectively and consistently keeping an eye on operations separates successful companies from out-of-business ones. Both Masters and Greenwood already own their own businesses—Greenwood is behind the wine zine Campestre Mag and runs the online wine shop Esquina, and Masters co-owns Clos Wine Shop and Fintastic Provisions in University Heights with her husband Paul. Apparently, these gigs weren’t enough to satisfy their collective yearning for spreadsheets and inventory maintenance.
So, they decided to start another business together—Sosal Line, a San Diego-based import and distribution company specializing in global pantry items. The pair launched Sosal Line at the beginning of 2025 and currently only sell three brands of tinned fish, but Greenwood says they plan to expand their offerings as they discover other small or family-run businesses that share their values.
“We want to work with brands and with products that really have a sense of place and actually tell a story—not just the product, but the people behind it too,” she says.
Masters and Greenwood are both Korean-American and named this burgeoning business after Haenyeo, the legendary free-diving women of Jeju Island in South Korea. Traditional Haenyeo equipment and garb include oribal (swim fins), yeoncheol (lead belts to help them sink), and the company’s namesake sosal, a hand-held fishing spear (sometimes called jaksal).
The average person, if sitting completely still, can stay underwater for up to a minute and a half at most. Haenyeo can hold their breath for up to three minutes while actively foraging, harvesting, and swimming. Scientists say these diving women spend more time underwater than any other group of humans on earth. Not badass enough for you? The average age of Haenyeo is around 70.
Courtesy of Sosal Line | Photo Credit: Luke Schmuecker
“Fishing is a strong heritage for Koreans, and it’s the same here in San Diego with the Portuguese settlers,” Greenwood explains. (We aren’t the tuna capital of the US for no reason.)
Sosal Line carries 100 percent traceable, wild caught fish from Galicia in Northern Spain and the Pacific Northwest, all family-owned companies who don’t compromise on sustainable practices. Tinned fish has never been more popular—or more debated—but there’s more to it than cute labels designed for maximum Instagram reach. “I want to know who I’m purchasing from,” says Greenwood. One of their suppliers, Craft Fish Co., which is based in San Diego but fishes in the PNW, is run by JJ and Jessica Gerritsen. JJ catches, Jessica packages, and it’s a business relationship on a first-name basis. “You can’t find that when you’re working with some nameless brand.”
San Diegans can find Sosal Line products at local retailers like Clos/Fintastic (obviously), allmine in Oceanside, Always Hungry Grocery & Goods in Carlsbad, J. Brix Wines in San Marcos, Collins & Coupe/Tablespoon in North Park, and Green Acre in La Jolla. They’re also available in select retailers in Northern California, Oregon, Arizona, and strangely enough, South Carolina. Expanding its client base is, of course, a goal. But not at the expense of quality or joy of discovery.
“I would love to see people try food from different cultures and be excited about it,” says Greenwood. “Maybe make them want to travel to experience different areas of the world.”
Beth Demmon is an award-winning writer and podcaster whose work regularly appears in national outlets and San Diego Magazine. Her first book, The Beer Lover's Guide to Cider, is now available. Find out more on bethdemmon.com.
Implementing a farm-to-table model hardly deserves acknowledgement these days. It’s not a stretch. It’s not innovative. “It’s the bare f**king minimum,” says Herb & Sea‘s executive chef Aidan Owens.
When I arrive at the Encinitas restaurant, I’m ready to talk sustainability, farm-to-table stuff, with Owens. “Did you see the chin on that?” he says of the extra big jiggly chin on the sheephead that just arrived with the day’s fresh catch. I did. It was Jay Leno adjacent.
I learn quickly that he somehow oozes both charm and stone-cold honesty. Maybe he could construct a new dish with chin goo, like he did when he had a bunch of tuna scraps and voila’d it into a smooth and crowd-pleasing ‘nduja. “I want to know what’s in there,” he says.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
The instinct to look closer, to dig into what others might discard, says a lot about the chef’s approach. I guide him back to our topic, but he has something else on his mind. “We’re overcomplicating food—what happened to just cooking good food and having fun with it?”
Owens grew up on a farm in Byron Bay, Australia, where sustainability wasn’t a concept you chat about so much as a way of life. Think dirt roads, backyard chickens, pulling vegetables straight from the ground, and a mother who believed that if you couldn’t pronounce the ingredients on a package, you shouldn’t eat what was inside.
Food wasn’t precious or performative. Making it was what you did because you were hungry and that’s still what inspires Owens today. “I like to cook good food because I like to eat good food,” he says.
His approach to sustainability at Herb & Sea began so naturally that it felt just like instinct. “I was just like, ‘Let’s order food from the people who live and work here,’” he says.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
And why wouldn’t he when lives in San Diego? Cities all over the world vie for our goods. Our tuna is sent overseas. Our spiny lobsters hit dinner plates in China and Japan. Not to mention California’s producing a third of the country’s vegetables and three-quarters of its fruits and nuts.
“Why would we outsource when it’s all here?” Owens asks.
Sustainability, in this context, is about cooking what exists in abundance, nearby, right now. “I love the local fish here. It’s f**king delicious and San Diego citrus, I mean, it is so f**ing good,” he says.
Instead of importing ingredients, Owens also looks for nearby alternatives. “You can find really cool things in the local waters,” he says, pointing out that stingray cheeks taste similar to scallops.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
Whatever he finds in that sheephead chin might just be the next substitute for marrow. But to make this work, it means getting diners amped up about the slightly unfamiliar.
Tasting menus, where diners are completely in his hands, become an opportunity to gently push boundaries. “I’ll serve mackerel, because people think they hate it,” Owens says, noting that the abundant local fish can have some fishiness. “But when it’s fresh, it’s arguably one of the best fish in the ocean.”
He also tweaks the language on the menu so people might feel more compelled to give dishes a try without preconceived notions. He might use “lengua” instead of “tongue.” “Whelk” instead of “snail.” When he puts “stingray throat” on the menu, he disarmingly calls it “skate.”
To reduce waste, scraps aren’t always discarded but rather turned into something new. Sometimes they’re smoked, cured or fermented. Apples going bad turn into apple ponzu. Lemons turn to marmalade, which stretches their usefulness far beyond peak season. “And it’s super tasty on our pizza,” he says.
What makes the food even richer, is the relationships he’s built with farmers. Though it didn’t always feel natural, Owens sought personal connection first. He recalls approaching a fisherman at the Tuna Harbor Dockside Market. “I was awkward,” he says. “I went up to him and said, ‘I like your fish.’”
Owen’s is now so close to his suppliers—like fishermen Ryan Sebo and Joe Daly—that he gets texted pictures of fresh catches right as they flop on the boat. The messages always ask if he wants first dibs. “I say yes to a lot of fish,” Owens says, noting that Herb & Sea can go through 2,000 pounds of seafood a week.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
The next evolution of sustainability, in his view, will be chefs working directly with producers such as his alliance with Sebo, cutting out middlemen and purveyors where possible. “It will put more money in the pockets of the people doing the work,” he says.
It will mean that chefs can’t just know their local farmers and producers, but they’ll choose to work with the ones who have the best practices. Dining and sustainability will become much less about the final plate. “It will be more about the impact that plate has on the Earth,” he says.
Ultimately, he believes sustainability doesn’t need to be loud. It doesn’t need hashtags. It just needs to be honest.
“We aren’t saving lives. We’re feeding people good food,” he says.
And yet, in feeding people well—simply, thoughtfully, responsibly—something meaningful happens. Guests leave satisfied. Ingredients are respected. Local ecosystems are supported and food returns to what it has always been at its core: nourishment, pleasure, and a quiet reflection of the place it comes from.
The folks behind Oddish Wine and Lost Cause Meadery are partnering with Bica to open an all-day cafe, coffee shop, wine bar, and restaurant near La Mesa Village
La Mesa: a bucolic, hill-dappled city long regarded as a somewhat frumpy, never quite trendy bridge between the urban cool of Mid-City and the rural sprawls of East County. La Mesa’s population clocks in at around 4 percent of the city of San Diego’s—fewer than Chula Vista, Oceanside, Escondido, Carlsbad, El Cajon, Vista, San Marcos, and Encinitas, in that order. It’s home to a killer Oktoberfest, one of the best charter high schools in the state, and a theatrical mayor who tools around town in a golf cart (and so far, hasn’t cut any arts funding or closed public bathrooms).
But any area that’s only 20 minutes from downtown San Diego and under 20 miles to Mission Bay will only stay under the radar for so long. Slowly but surely, bits and bobs from San Diego’s cultural tastemakers have been popping up all over town. Dark Horse Coffee and the boutique Small Batch both opened in La Mesa in 2018. Stella Jean’s and Pop Pie are coming later this year. Native Poppy is building its new headquarters and studio this fall. After a year in business, the new owners of JK’s Greek have established themselves as one of the best Greek restaurants in the county.
Next year, La Mesa will get one of its most ambitious projects yet. Billy and Suzanna Beltz, owners of Lost Cause Meadery and Oddish Wine, are pouring everything they have into renovating a 5,000-square-foot building between the Village and MacArthur Park to open a wine/beer bar, coffee shop, all-day cafe, and wine shop.
The concept doesn’t have a name (yet), and Bica in Normal Heights will come on as a partner to run the restaurant aspect and coffee program (which also won’t be called Bica. Still lots of naming decisions to be made). But the Beltz’s vision is to create something in La Mesa that doesn’t exist yet—a community gathering space open from morning until night that’s family-friendly, creatively designed, and well… cool.
The building has been around since the 1940s, first operating as a neighborhood market, then butcher shop, secondhand children’s store, electronics store, dry cleaners, and bike shop. The Beltzses say they plan to keep the “soul and character” of the space as much as possible, highlighting original details like a barrel-shaped wooden roof, brightening up the corner building by utilizing the large front windows, and eventually building an outdoor dining/drinking space and kid-friendly area—a must for the neighborhood’s plethora of young families. They tapped all locals for the design and build: Tecscape Design, design consultant Carly Miller-Chen (who owns Ayi boutique in South Park) to create the space, and local contractor CLTVT.
Courtesy of Oddish Wine
Starting in the morning, the space will offer coffee and light breakfast items before transitioning to lunch and dinner menus, plus a full bar that will feature Oddish and Lost Cause products as well as other local wines, beers, ciders, and other beverages alongside an aperitivo program and low-ABV cocktails and spritzes. Food-wise, they plan to install a wood-fired oven and rotisserie, but expect more menu details to be revealed closer to opening.
There will also be a small retail space focused on natural wines and ciders from places like Raging Cider & Mead in San Marcos and other San Diego and Baja California makers. But don’t expect run-of-the-mill options from the guy who makes weird wines and mead, the oldest alcoholic beverage in human history (hardly TikTok trend material). “We have a unique perspective… Hopefully we can expand some palates and minds in the process,” says Billy.
Community is the heart of the project, more than food, more than drinks. “We have a young family. [Bica owners] Manny [Da Luz] and Charlie [Knowles] have families,” says Billy. Suzanna adds: “People want a space that they know they’re going to get really amazing food, really fun drinks, but they can also feel like they can bring their kids during the weeknights.” It won’t be North Park 2.0, although many families now living in La Mesa came from various neighborhoods across Mid-City (like the Beltzes). It’s filling a void. It’s something they can build from the ground up. And just maybe, it’s something that will surprise people who have yet to discover La Mesa’s potential.
For as long as I can remember, my favorite animal in the world has been bunnies. (You’d think I would have been cured of the notion after adopting an adorable, but absolutely diabolical rabbit in my teens, but alas, it did not.) If you, too, love gazing at cute little cotton tails and velvety-soft ears, then join me for Bunnies & Brunch on Saturday, September 26 at Hilton San Diego Gaslamp Quarter’s Wild Hare Bar Garden. (I had no idea that downtown San Diego was once home to a robust rabbit population in the mid-19th century, but today I learned!) Yes, there will be a bunny petting farm from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. Take a number, pal.
Keeping with the animal theme, there’s a new snake in town. Serpent & Stone, a Greek-inspired restaurant and lounge opened this weekend at 750 Front Street with Mediterranean classics like falafel, Greek meatballs, skewers, Greek salads, and mythology-inspired cocktails like “The Aphrodite” (pea-flower-infused Ketel One vodka with passion fruit, Madagascar vanilla, Passoã, lime and champagne). If you didn’t make it to Mykonos this summer, this sounds like a decent alternative.
Mat Robar, Jesse Pine, and Winslow Sawyer launched Pure Project in 2016 with the idea of centering a brewery around sustainability, rather than leaving it as an afterthought or bonus. Most recently, they released Closed Loops, a collaborative murky IPA with Societe Brewing Company and Dalum Beverage Equipment, the latter of which installed CO2 capturing machines at both breweries earlier this year. Since February, Pure Project has recaptured and reused over 74,500 pounds of CO₂ emissions, keeping all of that out of the air and staying on track to hit over 119,000 pounds by the end of the year. The hazy IPA brewed with Tropical Fusion, Mosaic, and Strata Cryo hops is now on draft and in to-go four-packs at all five Pure Project locations, and I’ve got to say, it’s really nice to see environmental enthusiasts doing their part.
Cheerio, California English. The Sorrento Valley British restaurant launched by celebrity chef Richard Blais will close permanently at the end of September. May your prime rib “proper roast” and Scotch eggs live on in another realm somewhere.
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Have breaking news, exciting scoops, or great stories about new San Diego restaurants or the city’s food scene? Send your pitches to [email protected].
Beth Demmon is an award-winning writer and podcaster whose work regularly appears in national outlets and San Diego Magazine. Her first book, The Beer Lover's Guide to Cider, is now available. Find out more on bethdemmon.com.
Midway through my phone conversation with Shannon English, owner of The Delicate Squash, I hear an alarm shrilling in her background.
“Sorry, I’ve got to pull some cookies out of the oven right now!” she apologizes. After a few beats, she picks the phone back up and laughs. “I feel like I’m bouncing around all over the place.”
After hearing her run through a list of her professions and current hobbies, I’d have to agree. English runs The Delicate Squash, a gluten- and dairy-free bakery; teaches cooking demos; pops up at farmers markets; wrote a book of poetry (Deep Water came out this month from Beyond the Veil Press); hosts a monthly open mic night; dipped her toe into ballet; recently joined a running club; volunteers at local farms; and finally, teaches at a play-based, nature-based preschool.
I’m tired just talking to her.
Surprising no one, English seems to have unlimited energy and enthusiasm for all this work, notably in education. Early childhood education is one of the most pivotal times for nurturing lifelong learning, but she also aims to educate the public on how to eat cleaner, feel better, and support your local food systems. She started The Delicate Squash in late 2023 after discovering she has a chronic illness, going through the typical standards of care and even strict elimination diets, to no avail.
Courtesy of Shannon English
“I’m not going to say I found a diet that has ‘cured’ me, but I have found that taking a more mindful approach to a lot of things, including diet, has made symptoms far more manageable for me,” she says.
Even people with dietary restrictions deserve a little treat from time to time, but she had a hard time finding anything that tasted good and made her feel good. Thus, The Delicate Squash was born.
All of her baked goods avoid gluten and dairy, and use natural sweeteners like coconut sugar or maple syrup as well as herbs, fruits, foraged flowers, and other natural flavorings. Her signature cookie, the “Delicate” cookie, is a sea salt dark chocolate cookie that’s soft, a little salty, a little sweet, and made with oatmeal to keep it gluten-free. Other crowd favorites are thumbprint jam cookies with jams made from scratch with change seasonally; breakfast pastries like orange, dark chocolate and cardamom scones; brownies; orange and black sesame banana bread; seasonal pies; and custom and seasonal cakes (currently, the late summer flavor is a dark chocolate coconut milk ganache with berry jam).
English says some people are surprised she can produce such a variety of goods with the dietary restrictions she adheres to. “A lot of feedback I get is ‘I could never do that,’” she says. But if she can do it, she assures me that anyone can. “I like to say ‘practice makes progress, not perfection.’”
Her advice? Focus more on being present than presentation, and don’t be afraid to experiment to keep things interesting. And if that doesn’t work, you can always hit her open mic night to ask for tips.
Escondido is getting in on the listening bar phenomenon. On September 5, musicians Mat Rakers, Kevin Capacia, and Billy Petty will open Plot Armor, a Japanese-style vinyl listening bar that Rakers says they aim to feel “curated and intelligent.”
“Currently, there are not a lot of ‘cool’ spots in Escondido,” he says. Backed by The San Diego Music And Art Company and The Escondido Music And Art Company, Plot Armor will soon offer sake, wine, beer, and soju cocktails, plus Japanese non-alcoholic options and cold brew. Eventually, they’ll add Japanese-inspired snacks, but the focus will be creating a small place (very small—the seating capacity is 20) where vinyl junkies can come listen, linger, and libate.
Courtesy of Fairmont Grand Del Mar
Beth’s Bites
Ocean Beach has a new watering hole. The Jetty opened in July at 4934 Voltaire Street (where Voltaire Beach House used to be), and while I don’t think OBceans were hurting for where to get a drink, the more the merrier.
Chinese restaurant powerhouse Chef Fei is finally making it to the U.S., opening a spot at Westfield UTC mall on September 5. Known for Hunan-style stir fry dishes, it’s often lauded as one of the most consistently solid chains in the world—in fact, in 2018 chef Fei Lianghui took home the highest honor a Chinese chef can earn, the China Golden Chef Award. Again, I don’t think mallgoers were hurting for great places to slurp some noodles, but there’s always room in my heart for more stir fry.
In past years, Fairmont Grand Del Mar didn’t exactly jump to mind when I looked for different Día de Muertos celebrations around San Diego. That changes this year, when the five-star resort will debut its first Día de Muertos celebration on November 1. Michelin-recognized chefs like Javier Plascencia (Erizo, Animalon), Roberto Alcocer (Valle), Drew Deckman (Deckman’s En El Mogor), and more will come from both sides of the border for one night only, with proceeds going to Fundación Tijuana Sin Hambre. Get ready for what will undoubtedly be San Diego’s most upscale take on the Mexican holiday.
Listen Now: The Latest in San Diego’s Food and Drink Scene
Have breaking news, exciting scoops, or great stories about new San Diego restaurants or the city’s food scene? Send your pitches to [email protected].
Beth Demmon is an award-winning writer and podcaster whose work regularly appears in national outlets and San Diego Magazine. Her first book, The Beer Lover's Guide to Cider, is now available. Find out more on bethdemmon.com.
Growing up, Laika Nur, MD, Scripps Clinic sports medicine specialist, loved watching beach volleyball when the Association of Volleyball Professionals tour came to her hometown of Chicago. A talented volleyball player herself, she remembers sitting in the stands all day, and once, even got a couple autographs. Years later, Dr. Nur was attending a professional event focused on women’s sports, and the discussion turned to a new professional women’s volleyball league. The general manager and coaching staff for San Diego’s team, the Mojo, happened to be in attendance, and Dr. Nur took the opportunity to ask them if they needed a team doctor. Flash forward to the Mojo’s inaugural 2024 season, when Dr. Nur officially became the team physician. Click here to read more about Dr. Nur and how she incorporates lessons she learned on the court into her practice.
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