Pour the Champagne. We’re partying over here. With this issue, we’re celebrating three-quarters of a century of San Diego Magazine—and bringing you our favorite spots of 2023. It’s a very special edition, full of timeless San Diego memories combined with the best of the city’s now. We hope it becomes a venerated fixture on your coffee table for a good while, or at least a long-lasting coaster.This 75-year milestone is the beginning of a whole new era for San Diego Magazine. It’s a big deal. And it’s been a long road. When SDM began in 1948, the average American income was about $3,000 per year. The median home value was around $7,000. Harry Truman was president, and the city’s population was barely 300,000.Super Glue hadn’t been invented, and the first Super Bowl was yet to be played. Alaska and Hawaii weren’t states. No Vietnam War, no moon landing, no trickle-down economics, no 9/11, no Covid. It was a different world, and a different San Diego. But through it all, San Diego Magazine remained a premier voice in our city, covering culture, politics, food, fashion, and so much more. We’ve published in nine decades and two centuries. We’re proud of this history. We hope our readers are, too.In honor of our longevity, we decided to celebrate just how cool it is to be 75 years young, while nodding to the fact that we have big plans for the future. We threw ourselves a party at Turf Supper Club, an 80-year-old fixture of Golden Hill, where, inside, it smells like history.We asked our readers to find us stylish models in their 70s, tapped one of the most photogenic young musicians we know to join us, and brought in a dog groomed to look like a lion, just to get weird. Cake, candles, confetti. Bubbly, bolo ties, balloons. You can taste the vibe: Smart. Sexy. Wild. Provocative. Everything we’re seeking to be as we grow older.If we’re being honest—and we always strive to be—previous SDM anniversary covers have fallen flat, so we wanted to make up for lost opportunities. We hope you dig it. You can see a lot more from the shoot— including other images that could have made the cover.As you can see, we’re having fun. We’re septuagenarians, but we’re in our prime, full of the wisdom that comes with age and ready for what’s next. While putting together this issue and reflecting on all SDM has accomplished in the last seven-plus decades, I’ve also been asking myself what kind of magazine we want to be in another 75 years, and considering what kind of San Diego we want to see.Local media is a vital part of a city’s fabric, and we want to make sure that SDM keeps contributing to a more interesting, more vibrant, and more inclusive San Diego.We’ve inherited a 75-year-strong foundation to build from, and, with new-ish ownership and a talented, hungry editorial team, we’ve got ambitious goals for where we want to go. Our staff views it as a great honor to be stewarding this magazine into its next chapter.So pop that Champagne and raise a glass. We’re just getting started.
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.
Some keep lists of favorite books, of quotes, of enemies whose time shall come. At SDM we keep vast, nuanced, hotly debated lists of the best food and drink in the city. Menus are our smut novels. From Michelin stars to mom and pops, our list constantly evolves over hundreds of new bites tried every year. Here’s the 2026 list from food critic Troy Johnson and 129,000-plus votes from our readers, who really, really know their food.
Scroll down for the full list of Best Restaurant winners
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.
I spent time in a hot dog stand on the edge of San Diego Bay, looking out a window that mattered. Mattered to a kid whose mom taught him to fish on this pier. They’d turn on a little transistor radio, find a signal through the static, stare at the water, and talk life and his dad. Dennis Borlek’s dad was out there, somewhere, commanding a naval submarine through god knows what. When his dad would dock in Point Loma weeks or months later, Borlek biked down the street along Shelter Island to see him and steal back stolen moments.
Later, Borlek helped midwife the craft beer scene, managing seminal spots like Small Bar and Liar’s Club. Wondering what to do with the rest of his life, he went back to that pier and saw a for-lease sign on the bait and tackle shop. He tore through the public library and spent the whole night learning how to write a business plan (he had no clue). A couple days later he found himself at the intimidating end of a massive conference table, pitching his dream to the very official Port of San Diego executives.
They gave it to the San Diego kid. Not sure if they ever imagined Fathom Bistro—the tiniest, mightiest craft beer and hot dog stand, filled with spear guns, ocean monster figures, and seafaring oddities—would still be there 13 years later, let alone be a local’s favorite. It’s the most San Diego place in the world. Borlek taught himself to make kimchi and puts it on his Explodo Dog. His friend Kevin, who played with him in a punk band, dresses as a pirate and works the door on weekends. Has done so for years.
And when Borlek stares out the window, he can see the sub base and the memories of his dad.
Courtesy of Wayfarer Bread
Later, a few beach towns over, I sat in an employee break area—a shaded back-alley alcove with grape vines that serves as an escape garden for the crew. The place used to be a taco shop. Owner Crystal White points to a window of a single bedroom behind the dough-mixing part of the kitchen. She lived there when she started, often finding herself on the roof at midnight, staring at a broken compressor, trying to will it into working.
A blue-collar kid who fell in love with bread, she moved to San Diego with a business plan and zero cash. Banks don’t loan money to bread dreamers. Fate, kismet, and door-knocking found her enough investors. In the weeks leading up to opening that dream—perfect croissants, kouign-amanns, sandwiches, pizzas, baguettes fermented with wild La Jolla yeasts—she was outside hammering and painting. Locals would pause to ask what she was putting into the spot. “A bakery!” she’d reply.
“Oh, we don’t need one of those,” they’d say. Eight years later, White has moved out of the bedroom, and Wayfarer Bread is one of the best bakeries in the land. I ask if she’ll ever open another location. “I grew up dirt poor,” she says. “This has surpassed even my wildest dreams. This is enough. Please make sure you mention Emma Koehler, K-O-E-H-L-E-R, my kitchen manager. She deserves the credit now.”
These are the people and the stories behind “Best Restaurants.” This issue is dedicated to them, the culture they’ve gritted into being. On the surface, the annual tradition—naming a list of “winners,” my favorite places and my honest answers to “who has the best taco/pizza/Thai…”—is a good-natured competition among friends. But the deeper point is that it’s a way to highlight hundreds of places that have risked it all to build a little magic across the city. Sure, some owners were born in the stars and used that dust to make more stars. But many or most restaurants started with a scrappy go-getter or two. And now those places are filled with dozens or hundreds of people who love the work, show up day in and day out, for years. People like Koehler and the ones we feature in our story, “Behind the Line”.
So please use this list as a beachhead. Try these places, email me ([email protected]) to say “thanks” or “you truly messed up.” Eat, drink, commune, say hello, get to know the stories of the people making your favorite food. Make your own list, and share it with us.
(Note: Fathom didn’t win anything, probably because there’s no category for “Best Hot Dog Craft Beer Stand on a Pier with a Pirate,” which is a shortcoming on our part. So I put him here because he should be a part of any conversation about best San Diego things.)
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.
In this city, chef Brian Malarkey and restaurateur Chris Puffer are kind of like peanut butter & jelly, tacos and Tuesday, Padres and Petco—they just go together. This month, the duo celebrates 10 years of partnering on some of San Diego’s top restaurants including their first venture, Herb & Wood.
To celebrate this milestone, we stepped back and revisited their journey becoming some of this city’s most successful restaurateurs.
But first, let’s go back to the beginning. The duo met at Oceanaire in 2007 where they both worked. Malarkey was still riding the high from his stint on Top Chef Season 3 where he won runner-up. He was a great chef, Puffer recalls, if not a tad arrogant. Whatever he was doing, though, it worked. Sales doubled under his watch.
In 2009, Malarkey was approached by some patrons to start what would become Searsucker. He knew he wanted Puffer to be his partner. They had great chemistry and loved hospitality and food. “We both came to this with a bit of a chip on our shoulder,” says Malarkey. “We wanted to prove it to other people that we know what we’re doing.”
Courtesy of Puffer Malarkey Collective
Searsucker, Gabardine, and Herringbone (under the Fabric of Social Dining restaurant group) were born through the new partnership. But in 2012, they sold their concepts to Hakkasan and soon partnered on a new lease.
That building would eventually become Herb & Wood. “We were going to do it differently this time around,” says Malarkey as he reflects on Wood’s early days. “And we [wanted to] build it to last.”
The vision: Great food. Great music. Great service. It’d be a place where diners would let go, put their phones down, and be fully present to enjoy a meal together. When they walked into 2210 Kettner Blvd, they knew they had found their spot.
The only problem was that, at the time, that area of Little Italy was still severely underdeveloped. In a 8,500-square-foot space, they were going to have 230 seats to fill. “It may as well have been on Mars,” says Troy Johnson, San Diego Magazine publisher, content chief, and the city’s longtime food critic.
Courtesy of Puffer Malarkey Collective
And, of course, there were the naysayers. The prevailing feeling in the dining world was, “Let’s see what these f**king idiots do,” recalls Malarkey. The duo let all the noise be noise. In fact, the noise fueled them. “We weren’t going to cater to the haters,” Puffer says.
Their next hurdle would be to tackle the restaurant’s design. “There was nothing. It was literally a box,” says Puffer of the former space. Design teams were too expensive or didn’t quite get their vision—no, they didn’t want exposed beams or wooden tables made from reclaimed barns. “Then, Puffer was like, ‘f**k it, dude, I’m going to design this restaurant.’”
Having never really designed something like this before, he decided not to work in the programs that most professionals use to create their layouts. 3D mockup? Didn’t need it. CAD? That’s what a paper and pencil are for.
Courtesy of Herb & Wood
“It was all in my head,” he recalls. “I had this moment where I was like, ‘If I died right now, no one would know where any of this shit goes.’”
“Yeah, it made no sense,” Malarkey says.
And it still doesn’t if you hear him explain it. A mishmash of vignettes from the inner workings of his memory bank, evoking everything from Mississippi riverboats to Eiffel tower ironwork, Kensington home façades, an old theater he frequented, and a canoe, because why not? Yet somehow, it all worked.
“It’s a sense of nostalgia,” says Puffer. “People might say, ‘Oh, my gosh, this feels good’ and they don’t realize it reminds them of the time they were in Paris.’”
“We don’t play trends,” Malarkey says. “We play timeless.”
Courtesy of Herb & Wood
Over the course of many years and plenty of trial and error, the partnership has continued to thrive. And, the Puffer Malarkey Collective has found its sweet spot within their restaurants: The service had to be kind and unpretentious and the food had to come out quick, delicious, and consistent. “Consistency is key!” says Puffer.
They also learned to balance out one another. “He’s a go-go-go-go [person],” says Puffer, “I’m a let’s-take-a-deep-breath-and-sleep-on-it [type of person].”
So, when they opened the doors to Herb & Wood in April of 2016, with those lessons in place, everything was just right. “We knew it had to fire on all cylinders,” says Puffer. “And it did.”
Courtesy of Puffer Malarkey Collective
There was no pretense and the dress code was exceedingly simple. “Money in your pocket,” says Malarkey. “That’s all you need.”
The phones rang, the seats filled, and the haters had to give it to them, those gnocchi hit. People began embracing every aspect of the place, even the edgier ones.
“We thought people were going to complain about all the paintings with boobs,” says Puffer of the many John Lanes on the wall. “But the amount of people who take pictures in front of the boobs is amazing.”
They even had a middle finger statue that Puffer had picked up from a yard sale. If a table was rude or antagonistic toward the staff, he’d walk over to them with the finger. “Congratulations,” he’d say, handing it over. “You’ve won asshole of the night.”
Courtesy of Puffer Malarkey Collective
The point is, they were ready to laugh (and not take shit from anyone). When someone wrote a review of Herb & Wood and called it Weed & Boners, they both had a laugh. It’s one of the keys to longevity.
Along with the fun and deliciousness, they’ve also served as a culinary talent incubator for San Diego. “It’s like a centrifuge,” says Johnson about Herb & Wood. “They train up all these young chefs and start spinning all this talent into different parts of the city.”
There’s Sebastian Becerra with Pepino, Samantha Bird of Relic Bakery, Aidan Owens at Herb & Sea, and Tara Monsod of Animae and Le Coq (San Diego’s first James Beard award finalist) to name a few. “They’ve expanded the footprint of the food revolution in San Diego,” says Johnson.
Their plans for the next 10 years?
“We’re just going to keep the magic going,” says Malarkey.
San Diego is just out here minding its own business. It’s long been cast as Los Angeles’s less ambitious sibling—the chill one, the one who shows up late for dinner reservations in flip-flops with a few provocative opinions. Architecturally it’s often cast the same: secondary, derivative, a footnote to California modernism that seems to begin and end with the Stahl House (Case Study House #22). LA has Pierre Koenig, Craig Ellwood, John Lautner. San Diego has the original fish taco.
But this version of the story is redacted, metaphorically speaking.
While the jazz hands of Hollywood and its hills cast a spell on historians and architecture buffs, San Diego had, and has, its own quiet evolution: It invented and reinvented itself through homegrown modernism, beginning with The Allen House (1907) in Bonita by Irving J. Gill.
“The biggest misconception is that San Diego was following Los Angeles,” says Keith York of Modern San Diego, one of the city’s top guides to modernist architecture. “Those who consider Rudolph Schindler and Richard Neutra as the fathers of Southern California Modernism often fail to recognize the outsize influence Gill and his buildings had on their work.”
Courtesy of Keith York
A new book, The Distinct Modernism of San Diego—written by Mark Hargreaves and Hallie Swenson, published by York—focuses on eight architects who were born, raised, or built their careers in San Diego. It illustrates how the city wasn’t hosting weekend warrior architects on side quests. It was a staging ground for a less look-at-me modernism from luminaries like Gill, Lilian J. Rice, Richard Requa, Lloyd Ruocco, Frederick Liebhardt, Kendrick Bangs Kellogg, Sim Bruce Richards, and Cliff May.
“Absent the backstabbing competition for projects, a collegial group of architectural peers collaborated and maintained lasting friendships with one another as they designed in response to the temperate climate and slower economy,” York says.
Largely unknown until the mid-1960s, Gill is a marquee name today. He arrived here from the East Coast at a moment when San Diego was still defining itself, which gave him the freedom to invent something new, experiment, rebel.
Instead of imposing the flourishes and frills of the time, he considered San Diego’s climate, light, landscape, history—the joie de vivre—and designed for this place. “[Architects of the west] must have the courage to fling aside every device that distracts the eye from structural beauty, must break through convention and get down to fundamental truths,” he once said, a sentiment that nails the un-ornate, total lack of pretension that’s defined San Diego people and culture.
And, lo, did Gill fling: His flat roofs, clean lines, and almost no ornamentation—though not necessarily modernism in the Eames or Eichler sense—foreshadowed what would later be called minimalism. Gill eventually became synonymous with the Los Angeles narrative, but broader architectural histories overlook the fact that his most progressive designs happened here.
Courtesy of Keith York
Another key to San Diego’s architectural movement was Lilian J. Rice, who often worked behind the scenes with little credit. She was one of only about 10 women in America licensed as architects at the time. Even though she died from cancer at 43, she somehow managed to complete an estimated 170 projects in the region, many in Rancho Santa Fe.
Born and raised in National City, Rice also wasn’t importing ideas. She shaped her own based on her understanding of this region and her commitment to protect the natural environment. Her work has been categorized as Spanish Colonial Revival, but she wasn’t reviving as much as she was refining a style suited to our border region—serene, mirroring nature, beautiful.
Like Sim Bruce Richards, who was his own way of life. While Gill stripped away ornamentation and Rice focused on the peace of open spaces, Richards came along several decades later and went full emo. By then, modernism had grown deep roots; its steel-and-glass structures took themselves very seriously. Richards came to party.
Photo Credit: Ollie Patterson
An eccentric, unpredictable man with half a face (part of his jaw was removed following a bone infection when he was a child), his life was a jalopy of adventures. He was opinionated and passionate about design, music, texture—and he created what he called a “sensuous environment.” He wanted his clients and their guests to feel the spaces as much as to be in them, appealing to the visual, tactile, nasal (“a cedar house smells good”), auditory (“acoustically superior”), even taste. “Though, I‘ve never had a client lick my houses,” he once wrote.
Organic, woodsy, textured, aromatic—if you ever find yourself in a Sim Bruce Richards house, a licking impulse might not seem so outrageous.
Gill, Rice, Richards and the other architects in Distinct Modernism built a legacy in San Diego that resonates nationally. And the work of these heavy hitters isn’t stuck in an inaccessible collectors realm: This October, homes by Kellogg and Liebhardt will open to the public as part of the La Jolla Modernism Home Tour—an opportunity to experience it not as a museum relic or magazine image (ahem), but as something alive.
Modernism in San Diego was never about glamour or an intention to be iconic. What transpired here is more nuanced, more ingrained with a less shouty aesthetic. A very San Diego aesthetic.
Your cup of coffee shows up exactly how you like it. The fully booked restaurant suddenly has a table. The last-minute, once-in-a-lifetime experience somehow comes together without a hitch. In the world of hospitality at top resorts, there’s an iceberg of scrupulous planning for each guest.
A concierge is in charge of that iceberg. There’s even an award for the best in the world: the Les Clefs d’Or Young Leader Award. It’s a months-long, multi-stage process with interviews, tests, and international competition, culminating at a global congress. Each member country only gets one nominee. Representing the US this year? Simona Marciulaityte from San Diego.
As Chef Concierge at Rancho Valencia Resort & Spa—a Relais & Châteaux retreat with Forbes Five-Star and AAA Five Diamond, a highly accoladed place with commiserate expectations—Marciulaityte is equal parts doer, fixer, and project manager for guests’ sometimes wild travel dreams.
“We see hospitality as theatre,” she explains. “There are a lot of moving parts, but when we arrive to the stage, it’s always with grace and a performance to create an incredible experience for the guests.”
That impossible-to-get reservation with custom cake and balloons at the table? She’s already texted three people. A guest calling on their way to the Zoo requesting a VIP-tour in 15 minutes? Booked in seven. The usual ‘Hey can you schedule me an appointment with Hermès to buy a $30K Birkin bag and plan my proposal in Italy’ request? Oddly specific, true story—and fully handled.
Courtesy of Rancho Valencia
“Great concierge work truly begins long before a guest ever steps on property,” Marciulaityte says. “Who is traveling, notes from prior visits, special occasions, and dining history help me understand the nature of the stay. For new guests, I read between the lines: the questions they ask, the pace they seem to want, the kinds of experiences they gravitate toward.
“Curation draws on something that can’t be replicated by a search engine. It’s years of genuine relationship-building with partners across San Diego and beyond.”
Nearly a decade ago, Marciulaityte was juggling life as a personal stylist at Nordstrom and hostess/server at Brian Malarkey’s Herringbone and Searsucker. After working an event for the San Diego Concierge Association, she had a moment of clarity: “I remember thinking, oh my god—this is exactly what I want to do.”
Being a part of Les Clefs d’Or grants entry to a global network of concierges who operate like a very discreet, very efficient hotline (“In service through friendship,” as their motto goes). When local super-chef Tara Monsoud was nominated for a James Beard, Marciulaityte worked with the SD Concierge Association and Le Coq to send flowers and photos to Chicago where the chef was staying.
“It’s not only guests—we hope to touch everyone with our concierge magic.”
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.
The iconic 1,200-acre preserve’s history dates back more than 150 years, evolving from a scrub-filled plot atop a mesa overlooking what’s now Downtown to an urban oasis—the largest of its kind in the country—filled with an array of museums, attractions, gardens, trails, restaurants, and more. Balboa Park is an epic playground where San Diegans and visitors alike can experience the great outdoors just as easily as they can enjoy a world-class performance or explore groundbreaking discoveries.
Tucked away in the Spanish Colonial Revival-style architecture are 18 diverse museums that allow visitors to spend the day learning about, well, anything. A great place to start is the San Diego History Center. Located in the Casa del Balboa building, the museum tells the story of the city’s past, present, and future through photographs and art, clothing and textiles, and interviews with people who witnessed history-making events firsthand. The San Diego Natural History Museum takes visitors even farther back with interactive exhibitions that show what the region was like up to 75 million years ago.
Blast off on a simulated trip to space at the San Diego Air & Space Museum, then check out artifacts from aviation legends, including the Wright brothers, Amelia Earhart, and Buzz Aldrin. Discover new perspectives revolutionizing the science world, learn about an often overlooked but overutilized utility, and exercise your creativity at the Fleet Science Center.
Calling all theater-lovers, Balboa Park has something for you, too. The San Diego Junior Theatre will present their musical take on beloved children’s book A Bad Case of the Stripes from June 26 through July 12. And laugh, cry, and marvel in awe as the pros of The Old Globe perform Kim’s Convenience, the award-winning comedy that inspired the popular series, from May 15 to June 14.
There’s nowhere else in Balboa Park quite like WorldBeat Cultural Center. The institution celebrates African diaspora and indigenous cultures around the world using art, music, dance, and education. The building, a renovated water tower covered in colorful murals, houses a performing arts center, museum, gift shop, cafe, and outdoor classroom.
If you’d like a side of nature with your culture, Balboa Park has you covered there, too. Stroll through the gardens of the Japanese Friendship Garden & Museum, a monument to the relationship between San Diego and its sister city, Yokohama, Japan. Inspired by traditional Japanese design dating back centuries, the 10-acre respite features a living exhibition that showcases plants native to both cities.
If there seems like a lot going on in Balboa Park, it’s because there is. Let theBalboa Park Cultural Partnership be your guide. The organization is the umbrella for 24 of the park’s institutions and offers an Explorer Pass that allows visitors to access multiple museums for one affordable price. The hardest part is picking where to start.
16 Museums, One Pass
Save on admission to San Diego’s top museums with the Balboa Park Explorer Pass. Explore 16 museums of art, science, history and culture across Balboa Park — all with one affordable pass. Choose the option that fits your pace: the Limited Pass (one day for up to four museums), the Parkwide Pass (seven consecutive days of access to all 16 museums) or the Annual Pass (365 days of unlimited exploring).
Looking for an experience-driven gift? Let the museum lover in your life enjoy their favorite museums all year with a Balboa Park Explorer Annual Pass gift voucher.
Bigger experiments, brighter ideas, and boundless curiosity await at the newly reimagined Fleet Science Center. This summer, the Fleet debuts Element 8 Cafe, an expanded theater queuing and concessions space, two new gallery spaces, and, for the first time, a free entrance gallery exploring science in and around San Diego. The transformation marks a new chapter for the Fleet, keeping it a vital, innovative, and accessible science hub for the region. Visitors are invited to explore the experience this summer and connect with the power of science like never before.
Address: 1875 El Prado, San Diego, CA 92101 Website:FleetScience.org Hours: 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily Phone: 619-238-1233
Japanese Friendship Garden & Museum
An accredited cultural gem, the Japanese Friendship Garden & Museum brings traditional Japanese garden design to life with koi ponds, curving walkways and layers of greenery. Guests explore bonsai trees, streams and peaceful nooks while taking part in exhibits, educational programs and festivals that illuminate Japanese culture. Situated in the heart of Balboa Park, the garden doubles as a meditative retreat and a dynamic gathering place, welcoming visitors to slow their pace and connect more deeply.
Address: 2215 Pan American Road E, San Diego, CA 92101 Website:Niwa.org Hours: 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. daily; last admission at 6 p.m. Phone: 619-232-2721
The Old Globe
A San Diego summer favorite, The Old Globe invites audiences to experience a beloved local tradition in its outdoor Lowell Davies Festival Theatre.
This summer, the 2026 Shakespeare Festival presents two thrilling tales of power, passion and romance. Measure for Measure, running June 14 through July 12, 2026, is a riveting story of justice and hypocrisy that asks who holds power, who is punished and what it truly means to be virtuous. Much Ado About Nothing, playing Aug. 2–30, 2026, is a classic rom-com packed with schemes, sparks and laughter as opposites attract. Audiences can enjoy both shows for $44.
Address: 1363 Old Globe Way, San Diego, CA 92101 Website:TheOldGlobe.org Hours: Box office open Tuesday–Sunday, 1 p.m. to final curtain Phone: Box office, 619-234-5623
San Diego Air & Space Museum
Aviation and space exploration come to life at the San Diego Air & Space Museum. See an airworthy replica of the Spirit of St. Louis, a Gee Bee racer and historic aircraft from World War I, World War II and the Korean and Vietnam eras. Get up close to the Apollo 9 command module — one of only 11 of its kind in the world — along with Mercury and Gemini capsules, Mission Control and space shuttle simulators, and a selfie spot beside a lunar lander on the moon. Running through 2026, Ripley’s Believe It or Not! brings oddities from around the world to Balboa Park.
Address: 2001 Pan American Plaza, San Diego, CA 92101 Website:SanDiegoAirAndSpace.org Hours: 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Phone: 619-234-8291
San Diego History Center
History belongs to everyone. At the San Diego History Center, two experiences bring that history to life this summer: America at 250 and the Center for Women’s History. America at 250 traces San Diego’s place in 250 years of U.S. history, while summer programs invite children to learn and explore. The Center for Women’s History amplifies the voices of women whose leadership and creativity have shaped our region.
By understanding our past, we build a more vibrant and inclusive community together. These vital educational experiences are only possible through generous community support. Discover your roots, spark meaningful dialogue, and help keep San Diego’s stories alive for future generations.
Address: 1649 El Prado, Suite 3, San Diego, CA 92101 Website: SanDiegoHistory.org Hours: 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Wednesday–Sunday Phone: 619-232-6203
San Diego Junior Theatre
Junior Theatre is San Diego’s longest-running youth theatre program, empowering students ages 4 to 18 to explore storytelling, performance, and collaboration in a supportive environment. Through classes, camps, and productions, young artists build confidence, creativity, and lifelong skills onstage and off. Each season features a wide range of opportunities, from introductory experiences to advanced training in acting and musical theatre.
Looking for a summer adventure? Junior Theatre’s Summer Camps deliver dynamic programs for grades K–12, including musical theater intensives, acting academies and immersive JT Studio experiences. It’s a place where imagination truly takes center stage.
Address: 1650 El Prado, Suite 208, San Diego, CA 92101 Website:JuniorTheatre.com Hours: 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Phone: 619-239-1311
San Diego Natural History Museum (The Nat)
This summer, The Nat is talking trash—literally. Their newest exhibition, Washed Ashore: Art to Save the Sea, features larger‑than‑life marine sculptures made of ocean debris collected from beaches. It invites visitors to explore the impact of plastic pollution and discover ways to take action.
But the experience doesn’t stop at the gallery doors. Friday nights, the exhibition transforms into an ocean-themed “dive bar” during Nat at Night. Select Sundays bring something brand new: a rooftop brunch with sweeping Balboa Park views. Add two new giant-screen films and five floors of nature to explore, and The Nat is shaping up to be one of the season’s must-visit destinations.
Address: 1788 El Prado, San Diego, CA 92101 Website: SDNat.org Hours: 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily; 10 a.m. to 11 p.m. Fridays in summer Phone: 619-232-3821
WorldBeat Cultural Center
The WorldBeat Cultural Center is a nonprofit multidisciplinary cultural organization dedicated to promoting, presenting and preserving Indigenous cultures worldwide through music, art, dance, education, sustainability and community programs. WorldBeat elevates multicultural artists, expands opportunities for cultural enrichment and fosters deeper understanding across traditions. WorldBeat offers a holistic cultural experience that inspires pride, unity, connection and belonging for all ages.
Address: 2100 Park Blvd., San Diego, CA 92101 Website:WorldBeatCenter.org Hours: Classes: Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, 6–9 p.m. Exhibits and café: Friday–Sunday, 11 a.m.–6 p.m. Phone: 619-230-1190
Event Calendar
Throughout 2026: Ripley’s Believe It Or Not!
Step into a world of the weird and wonderful at Ripley’s Believe It or Not! at the San Diego Air & Space Museum in Balboa Park. Explore hundreds of bizarre artifacts, interactive displays and unbelievable stories that celebrate the curious and the extraordinary.
Presented in partnership with the San Diego Museum of African American Fine Arts, San Diego’s Lost Neighborhoods uses augmented reality, oral histories, and archival materials to explore communities and residents displaced by redlining, freeway construction, and other discriminatory policies.
Spend a summer night at The Old Globe. The Lowell Davies Festival Theatre stages Measure for Measure (June 14–July 12) and Much Ado About Nothing (Aug. 2–30), offering two unforgettable Shakespeare productions for just $44.
The Old Globe | 1363 Old Globe Way, San Diego, CA 92101
June 8–Aug. 7: Theatre Summer Camps
Summer camps at Junior Theatre spark creativity for grades K–12 with hands-on training, musical theatre intensives, acting academies, and JT Studio experiences.
A museum visit turns into a Sunday Funday with the addition of rooftop brunch, featuring mimosas, bloody Marys, and brunch bites from Wolfish by Wolf in the Woods (June 14, August 9) and Hash House a Go Go (July 12).
Nagashi at the Japanese Friendship Garden & Museum by floating a lantern to honor loved ones who have passed. Stroll merchant booths, enjoy cultural performances in the Inamori Pavilion, and sample food vendors plus a beer and sake garden in the lower garden.
Explore arts, science, history, and culture in the Balboa Park Cultural District with one convenient, affordable Pass. The Balboa Park Explorer Pass is your ticket to up to 16 museums and endless fun! Purchase your pass at BuyMyExplorer.com.
