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A memorable childhood trip leads to a food-centered adventure in Japan's capital city and the world's largest metropolitan area
Recently I was in Tokyo on a gastronomical mission. Simply, I wanted to taste as many things as possible on a weekend visit to Asia’s finest food city. But my quest also had a deeper component. I was born in Hong Kong and, though I grew up in America, I had always nurtured a happy association with Asia. In childhood, I became entranced by Japanese cartoons like Pokémon (and its lesser-known steampunk cousin, Digimon).
I devoured udon almost daily. In fourth grade, my parents sent me to a Japanese octogenarian’s home for weekly Japanese lessons, where she taught me the katakana and hiragana alphabets and screened My Neighbor Totoro sans subtitles. A memorable trip to Japan as a teen—to Tokyo, Kyoto, and Mount Fuji—solidified my childhood fascination.
Returning recently was a way to reconnect with that warm and mysterious longing of mine. And, of course, to eat until incapacitation.

Linked with San Diego through a direct flight, Tokyo sits off a large bay in central Japan. With some 40 million people, it is the world’s largest metropolitan area. But it does not feel overwhelming. In the spotless city center, traffic jams are conspicuously absent. Pedestrians flow in an ordered torrent.
At the stylish new Bulgari Hotel near Tokyo Station, followed by the more classic Peninsula Hotel overlooking the Imperial Palace, I took in Tokyo like a king. What’s nice about the view from the 44th floor at the Bulgari is the water: In a sprawling megalopolis of endless concrete and skyscrapers, you spot the glittering bay and the zig-zagging Sumida River. From a cavernous suite at the Peninsula, the turquoise roofs of the 19th-century palace peek over a rare swath of green, the dense, moated park like a flood of broccoli heads in a stream.

Above all, I desired to avoid mediocre meals in Tokyo. My time was short and the possibility of profound bites high, so every lackluster meal was a wasted opportunity. Wandering into a sushi bar in Tsukiji, the buzzing, food-drenched former home of Tokyo’s largest fish market (which relocated elsewhere in 2018), I was pleased to spot the framed signatures of famous sumo wrestlers on the walls—this, I had been told by a Tokyo resident, is a high sign of local cred and a strong indication that a place is legit. Sure enough, at this tiny den, called Tsukiji Kagura Sushi Annex, I had life-changing nigiri. Their secret: an old-style red vinegar used on the rice.
Tokyo is full of such small yet powerful improvements. You see signs of it everywhere. People are constantly tinkering, improving, and cleaning, and there is a widespread, earnest pride in the small and mundane. Store products are pleasingly arranged in bright, intricate exhibits. Specially grown strawberries retail for $50 a box. A chef with Michelin experience devotes herself to kakigŌri, a cutesy shaved-ice dessert. Taken together, it all amounts to an ambient level of high-quality stuff. In gastronomy, this is especially true.

One well-known haunt of Japanese perfectionism is Bar Benfiddich, which is rated as Tokyo’s finest cocktail bar. There is no menu. Bartenders craft each drink to the tastes of the customer. The teeny place, squeezed into an upper floor of a narrow building on the edge of Shinjuku City, resembles an English hunting lodge. Taxidermied animals line dark walls. The founder, Hiroyasu Kayama, is a farmer who grows all his own botanicals.
On my visit, he manned his bar in a pristine white suit, mixing libations with the studied care of a nuclear physicist. The concoction he produced for me—a fragrant blend of absinthe, grapefruit juice, honey, and egg white—was stunning.

In Tokyo, I noticed that the best bites often were found in eateries with specific focuses. The smaller the menu, the better the food. Wagyu 88, a tiny market stall in Tsukiji, serves only Wagyu small bites. There, I hoovered down a trio of thin slices of Wagyu served atop rice, nigiri-style, with dollops of fresh wasabi and ginger. Fantastic. Fuunji Tokyo Ramen Yokocho, a casual spot in the basement of a department store, specializes in tsukemen, ramen dipped in a curry-thick unagi broth. Incredible. At a dessert bar called Kanmi Mitsuya, I waited in line among teenagers for half an hour for sweet, chewy mochi balls doused in black sesame and brown-sugar sauce. Delightful.
Another correlation: more foreigners, worse fare. One afternoon in East Shinjuku—the Gaslamp times infinity—I went looking for gyoza. Shady bars lined narrow alleys with signboards featuring mega-breasted anime girls. Foreigners roamed in bug-eyed droves. Music blared. Surrounded by Brits, Aussies, and Chinese in a loud izakaya (the casual, boozy eateries found throughout Japan), I ate mediocre gyoza as a large scuffle broke out on the street outside. I didn’t like East Shinjuku.

Beyond eating, there are plenty of things to do on a weekend visit to Tokyo. You can tour through Tsukiji Fish Market and gawk at the ill-fated marine life, visit world-class attractions like the new Artizon Museum or the Hayao Miyazaki–inspired Ghibli Park, or see a sumo match (tournaments run in January, May, and September and quickly sell out). But, often, the most memorable moments are unplanned.
In a crowded alley near Shinjuku Station, I met an old man named Sage who insisted on taking me to a favorite sashimi spot of his. It was nearby, he assured. Wearing a pinstripe shirt tucked into well-ironed trousers, he led me through blocks of lunchtime traffic into the basement of the Odakyu Ace shopping mall. Sage’s beloved, no-frills eatery was just a few tables tucked into the dim corner of a food court.
There was one waitress and one chef and no restaurant name beyond the sign “Sashimi.” Large bottles of sake sat cooling in a fridge. A trio of old-timers chatted amiably at a small table. We ordered fresh cuts of maguro. The tuna arrived in tidy, thick slices, like red globs of clay, alongside wasabi and a mess of snowy daikon. Sage had already eaten. But he smiled contently as I chewed. He was happy to see that I wanted more.
Brent Crane is a freelance reporter based in South Park, San Diego. His reporting has been published in the Economist, the New Yorker, Bloomberg Businessweek and elsewhere. Check out his work at www.brent-crane.com.
Surf’n Slaw founder Kumi Alexander is introducing local farmers market crowds to okonomiyaki, the savory Japanese pancake she grew up eating
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.
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.
San Diego entrepreneur Kenji Blouin-Ito is turning a tiny Uptown Inn space into a destination for bentos, coffee, snacks, and more
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.”

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 Hako opens at 819 University Avenue in Hillcrest in early 2027.
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.
With Sosal Line, Heidi Greenwood and Juerie Masters are importing traceable seafood from small producers and building a global pantry business along the way
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.

“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.
The 29-year-old culinary director at Herb & Sea is making seafood sexy (and approachable) again
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.

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.

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.

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.

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.
No buzzwords required.
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.

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.
Oddish Wine/Lost Cause Meadery’s new concept is projected to open by the end of 2027 at 8495 La Mesa Blvd.

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.
At The Delicate Squash, Shannon English is rethinking cookies, cakes, and pastries with seasonal ingredients and natural sweeteners
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.

“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.
Customers can order from The Delicate Squash’s online store, check her upcoming schedule of pop-ups, or find her goods at various independent retailers around San Diego.
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.

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.
Take a refreshing trip to Tuolumne County, where your senses will get their fill and your wallet will stay full with off-peak accommodation prices
Gold Country Columbia Stage Coach.jpg
It’s that time when all of your senses are awakened by the unmistakable feel, sights, tastes, smells, and sounds of fall and winter. Experience them all in Tuolumne County in Northern California! Discover a different side of Yosemite National Park in the quieter and less crowded destinations. Watch as history comes to life with local tales and vibrant colors in Gold Country. Temperatures are dropping, but cooler adventures are found on the trails and slopes of the High Sierra and at unique events throughout the County.
Take a refreshing trip to Tuolumne County, where your senses will get their fill and your wallet will stay full with off-peak accommodation prices.
Find Serenity in Less-Crowded Yosemite National Park and Surrounding Area
Yosemite
Yosemite has quieted down, and now’s the time for national park adventures and new explorations. Find yourself in awe as you take in the sights among the giant sequoias backdropped by colors of maples and dogwoods and maybe some glistening snow in the Tuolumne Grove of Giant Sequoias. Or, hike around stunning Hetch Hetchy Reservoir.
Wander in Groveland, outside of Yosemite, and enjoy a warming pumpkin spice latte or a one-of-a-kind seasonal brew. Feel like shopping? Pop into some of the unique shops in town to find gifts and seasonal decor to bring home.
Discover an Era Past in Gold Country
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Explore Gold Country starting with the nooks of Columbia State Historic Park, and let your eyes and nose lead you into candle, candy, and provisional shops where their seasonal creations will warm your heart. Listen for clanging from the blacksmith shop or clinking of the authentic stagecoach as it enters town.
In nearby Jamestown, become immersed by the smells, sounds, and sights of Wild West railroad culture at Railtown 1897 State Historic Park, and stroll down Main Street where you’ll find shops, restaurants, and inns housed in picturesque historic buildings.
In Downtown Sonora, you’ll find many shops and restaurants located in historic buildings; as you step inside, you’ll see some interiors are left to show the architecture of 150 years ago. Also, take in a show at the Gold Country’s premier theater company, Sierra Repertory Theatre.
Reach the Mountain Tops in the High Sierra
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High Sierra adventures await where brisk mountain breezes are the perfect excuse for a cozy sweater. Take a hike along the Pinecrest Lake Loop Trail, and catch unreal views of changing leaves set against rugged granite mountains. Feel the invigorating wind in your face as you ski, snowboard, or snow tube down glorious mountain sides.
Visit the nostalgic mountain town of Twain Harte and enjoy a relaxing stroll to find some fun fall fashions or handy cooking gadgets to help with upcoming holiday cooking or gift giving.
Stir Up Your Seasonal Cheer
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Seasonal cheer is found in every town throughout Tuolumne County. Events include Fall Fest at Indigeny Reserve in Sonora and Harvest Festifall in Columbia State Historic Park in October. The night-time Sonora Christmas Parade, the night after Thanksgiving, and the sights and activities of Christmas Town Sonora delight all ages. The Polar Express departs Railtown 1897 State Historic Park for the North Pole on weekends following Thanksgiving.
Plan Your Trip to Tuolumne County
Rush Creek Lodge
You’ll need a place to stay during your visit. Pick from mountain resorts, historic inns, cozy vacation cabins (perfect for gathering the family), distinctive B&Bs, and full-service RV parks.
Start planning your vacation with the help of travel inspiration and information delivered directly to your mailbox. Request your FREE Tuolumne County Travel Guide at VisitTuolumne.com today. Or, call the Visit Tuolumne County team at 209-533-4420.