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SDM’s staff shouts out our favorite food finds this month
Finally, some good news: You don’t have to figure out what to make for dinner tonight. (It’s too hot to cook, anyway!) We’ve stuck our hands in enough bread baskets around town to know what’s worth going out for, whether you’re eating light (a soup that’s pretty much pure zucchini) or balling out (caviar-topped ice cream at San Diego’s newest Michelin, anyone?). Here are a handful of the best things we’ve eaten recently. Go get some.
Chef Jean-Michel Diot is one of the greats and somehow still feels like a secret. In NYC in 1989, Diot and his partners—well-known French maître d’ Max Bernard and restaurateur Philippe Lajaunie—ran the groundbreaking Park Bistro in NYC, the first bistro ever awarded three stars by The New York Times. Striking while hot, they opened another acclaimed restaurant, Brasserie Les Halles (two stars, NYT), a year later. Diot and his wife Sylvie eventually sold their shares to Lajaunie and moved to San Diego.
Chefless, Lajaunie would hire a struggling journeyman named Anthony Bourdain, who would write Kitchen Confidential in the kitchen Diot helped make famous. Diot’s escargot—a 200-year-old recipe handed down through chefs for generations, eventually reaching chef Amélie Gadoum at La Jolla’s Bistro du Marché—is unbelievably delicious. Each nub comes in a private plunge pool of warm garlic, butter, chervil, tarragon, and the anise-flavored Ricard liqueur, topped with a perfect-circle, semi-soft crouton. It’s the dish that breaks people who say, “Nope, won’t eat snails.” –Troy Johnson
New Encinitas Italian restaurant Forchettabouddit feels like something right out of the Netflix movie Nonnas, where Italian dialogue bounces through the dining room as background music. I am a sucker for all things blended, and the restaurant’s vellutata di zucchine—zucchini soup—is a green- smoothie lover’s (hot) dream. It won’t set your mouth on fire or change your life, but the simple purée of zucchini, olive oil, and seasonings is something I could drink right out of the bowl. –Sloane Moriarty
Expectations were seismic for the tasting menu–only Carlsbad restaurant from chef Eric Bost and restaurateur John Resnick, the duo behind Michelin-starred Jeune et Jolie. And Lilo jumped out the gates as expected, earning its first Michelin star within months of opening. Expect one or two more. Dishes like this blow expectations away: almond-flavored orgeat ice cream and a bushi of grated celery root (cured in brown sugar, tamari, and salt for two days and smoked over almond wood for another two days), topped with Kaluga Queen caviar and drizzled with almond oil pressed before each service. Sweet, savory, smoky, salty, a barrel of umami—if you’ve ever enjoyed caviar and crème fraîche, this is that times a hundred… as a dessert. –Troy Johnson
After a Pilates class one Sunday, I stopped into Gravity Heights’ Mission Valley location for some healthy bites and UV rays. On its patio, GH offers a lounge area with couches that (with enough imagination) may make you feel like you’re sitting poolside. Order the lemon chicken and kale sala with za’atar cucumbers, avocado, chickpeas, dill, feta, romaine, and creamy sesame dressing—for a meal so good you don’t even need a side of fries. Pair it with a Golden Hour Spritz (Cynar, passion fruit Giffard, lemon, cava, soda) and cheers to the incoming locals’ summer. –Nicolle Monico
Listen, I’ll be the first to advocate for giving those poor truffle-sniffing dogs a rest following years of fancy fungus over-proliferation. But, despite ill-advised Hinge dates with microwavable popcorn, vodka martinis, and aioli, truffle does have a true soulmate: risotto. Iconic, so-oceanfront-it’s practically-Atlantis La Jolla restaurant The Marine Room’s take is fungi all the way down, with wild mushrooms, mushroom jus, and dark threads of Australian winter truffle, their musky funk mellowed by creamy starch. It tastes (comfortingly) like the earth—a delightful contrast to the sea endlessly knocking against the floor-to-ceiling glass walls. –Amelia Rodriguez
In South Korea, the air around street vendors selling hotteok is the equivalent of a Cinnabon in US airports: an inescapable, dear-God-what-is-that sweetness. It’s a pancake made with wheat flour, makgeolli (Korean rice wine), brown sugar, demerara, and cinnamon. The one at Choi’s in the East Village is crispy outside with a warm, gooey center, topped with vanilla ice cream and a seasonal berry compote. South Korea à la mode. A must-try. –Troy Johnson
A Spanish delicacy made on Spain’s Balearic Islands, sobrasada is a paprika-spiked, spreadable cured pork sausage that’s like a pâté with a punch. It’s often used to flavor stews, but at La Jolla’s husband-and-wife-owned cheese-and-meat shop, it’s spread on toast with melted Vermont alpine cheese, a small-batch San Diego mustard (Big Bill’s), red onion, hot honey, and arugula with your choice of Golden Nugget ham, salami, turkey, or mortadella. It’s a hell of a sandwich, and Smallgoods is the spot in San Diego to discover the best small-batch cheese being made in each US state. –Troy Johnson
Modern America’s clinical obsession with new-new-new restaurants leaves many of the best parts of a food and drink culture for the rest of us. Like the iconic duck confit at Mille Fleurs in Rancho Santa Fe. Opened 40 years ago, this is where one of San Diego’s most accomplished restaurateur—the very French Bertrand Hug—first truly made his name in the city. After owning and operating Mister A’s for 20-plus years, he sold it a few years back to his longtime GM, beat cancer twice, and returned home to Mille Fleurs. An unrepentant raconteur (an endangered breed of restaurateurs), Hug entertains guests with wild stories on the shaded patio and hosts a “lunch bunch” with longtime regulars every Friday (they each have to bring a rare bottle of something).
His duck confit is a dish from his childhood in France’s Dordogne Valley, an area famed for its foie gras. In producing foie (the delicious and controversial delicacy of fattened duck liver), farmers had tons of leftover duck breasts and legs—and refrigeration hadn’t been invented yet. So they cooked the meat and bones for hours on very low heat and stored it in its own fat in earthen jars in the cellar, and the meat stayed good for a month or more. The desperate move to save food from spoil created one of the greatest delicacies in the culinary world—incredibly moist, fat-saturated duck meat that leaps off the bone, tucked under crispy, caramelized skin. Hug’s mother taught this recipe to one of his first chefs decades ago, and it will never go away. Usually served in a quercynoise sauce (duck fat plus garlic plus jus), it’s a Mount Rushmore dish in San Diego’s food story. –Troy Johnson
The plant-based lucid dreamers behind Kindred and Mothership have hatched their newest hangout in University Heights. Dreamboat is a tiny, shiny-white, meatless diner with 1940s and ’50s California paper-hat DNA, using a wood-fired oven for breakfast, lunch, and late-night desserts. It’s got serious coffee (get the orange cream latte) and cocktails (the Dirty Shirley with strawberry grenadine is the hit of the summer). But the star is the giant latke.
Idaho potatoes are roasted beneath the coals, shredded, and seasoned, then pressed in a Belgian waffle iron for a crisp exterior and soft innards. It’s served with a seasoned citrus coconut sour cream and a killer apple compote: grilled apples milled with a blend of hot toddy spices and bourbon. Down the hallway from Dreamboat, through a curtain, lies Vulture—another wildly designed super-experience à la Mothership. –Troy Johnson
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.
After a blind taste test, these four desserts came out on top—see the winners here
Basque grandmothers have not been making it for centuries. If you’re a millennial, there’s a strong possibility you’re older than the dessert itself. Yet somehow in less than 40 years, the Basque cheesecake—a half-pudding, half-cake creation with a top that looks like a mistake—managed to ooze its way onto menus all over the world.
It became the undisputed dessert star of San Diego’s restaurant world this year. So we invited 19 of the top restaurants, pastry chefs, and bakers to bring their best to the San Diego Magazine office for a blind taste test to find the best in the city.
First, a little history and context.
In 1987, after failing to find a job as an electrician, Santiago Rivera started working as a bartender at his parents’ unassuming pintxo bar La Viña, in San Sebastián, Spain. He was a naturally curious, self-taught cook who spent his free time testing recipes, tinkering with ingredients, and tweaking techniques.
So when it came to the cheesecake—which hadn’t changed much since its invention (a rudimentary version was served at the first Olympics in Greece 4,000 years ago, and the modern New York version in 1872)—he got radical with it.
He removed the crust (partly just to speed up the process because time is money for a small business). Without the crumbly crust, the experience was far creamier, less granulated. Then he cranked the oven to 400 degrees, nearly 100 degrees hotter than the normal baking temperature.
The result? The top became deeply caramelized, almost burnt, while leaving the center luxuriously soft and loosely set. The restaurant became a legend because of this breakthrough in the dairy arts, and his father never let him stop making it after that.
Now, 67 years after the restaurant’s opening, La Viña stands out for the unceasing line spilling onto the street, and the remarkable amount of curd cultists standing nearby, hovering over cream-smeared plastic containers. It’s the kind of scene that makes you stop and think: What the hell are they eating?
Now, the blind tasting. To keep things fair, the contenders were divided into four categories: Restaurant Traditional, Restaurant Flavored, Bakery Traditional, and Bakery Flavored. (It’s a tad unfair to pit a baker who specializes in the one glorious thing against a restaurant that cooks dozens of things.) Each entry was served blind and judged on texture, flavor, and number of vaguely inappropriate food moans.
The logistics were chaotic, to say the least. Our fridge—not a walk-in, sadly—was packed to the brim. Each cake was sliced, secretly labeled, and shuffled onto plates while the team gathered in the conference room. The whole shebang was not in any way sponsored by Lactaid, despite our various attempts to convince them of this ripe marketing opportunity.
The judging became gloriously unhinged. We heard it all, from “I don’t care how the cheesecake gets in my mouth, it just needs to happen,” and “Is it supposed to be this jiggly?” to “Kind of a baby throw-up situation,” “Straight cheese,” and “I’m getting vague socks there.”
But four Basque cheesecakes stood out among the rest, earning themselves the title of Best Burnt Basque Cheesecake in San Diego.
A restaurant for the people. Rosarito native chef Juan González and Megan Strom are the ideal married couple to be running a farm-to-table joint. She’s been a farmer for decades, selling top-notch produce to some of the best restaurants in California—which is how the two met. A couple years ago, she started working at the small organic farm in Valley Center run by Mike Reeske, who had spent decades breeding the perfect heirloom beans for SoCal’s climate. He recently retired, and gifted those strains to Strom—who grows them (and other crops) for their tiny Escondido taco/burrito shop specializing in guisados (Mexican stews).
A Basque cheesecake in a taco shop? You bet. Juan’s got family roots in Spain and has cooked in Spanish kitchens.
Mesa Agricola’s winning Basque is by far the most “burnt” of all contenders—so much so that an Instagram follower declared it a mistake. But as Chef Juan notes, there’s an art to hitting the sweet spot where “the bitterness of the char balances the richness and sweetness without turning it into ‘chicharrón.’” Plus, char is a core charm of Baja cooking. It’s the perfect Basque for the people who prefer setting their campfire marshmallows fully on fire.
With red leather booths and a retro steakhouse vibe, Moe’s in Mission Beach is a good cheat day destination. The menu is flavor maximalism—dry-aged steaks, housemade pastas, brown liquors, and sides like the lobster truffle mac ’n’ cheese. Pastry chef Eli Peralta (whom some might remember as the creator of The Patio on Lamont’s “Twisted Elvis”—a peanut butter-banana brûlée stunner) brings that same intensity to the dessert menu.
Baked at sister restaurant Molly’s (6 feet away), his Basque is served on a bed of caramel with walnut brittle and a dollop of whipped cream, an indulgent recipe that converted the pastry chef himself. “I wasn’t crazy about cheesecakes,” Eli admits. “Then I started making different flavors, and I started to like them.” He’s not the only convert: During our blind tasting, one judge likened the cake to crème brûlée, concluding, “I don’t even like crème brûlée, but I like this.”
Every creative pursuit starts with a muse—and Lada Sadovnyk’s has been the Basque cheesecake for years. In Ukraine, she baked them for friends and family gatherings, never imagining she would one day build an entire bakery around them in the US. “When we moved to San Diego,” she explains, “I kept thinking, ‘What can I do? What do I really love to do?’”
The answer is pretty fantastic.
After obsessing over proportion and techniques, chasing that molten center and deeply caramelized top, what began as an online recipe evolved into something entirely of her own.
She moved from her home kitchen to a rented commercial kitchen close to Sports Arena. The orders kept coming, and so did the pressure. “At one point, I was thinking about divorcing my husband,” she says with a laugh (while sitting next to him). The grind paid off: Today, Muse Cheesecakes bakes roughly 1,200 cheesecakes a month and is planning to open its first brick-and-mortar home in Pacific Beach.
For our competition, the expectations met reality. Muse has made a quick name in San Diego as the Basque to beat. In a blind taste test, there’s no bias, no reputational shine to sway a room. The response on reveal: “Oh, of course.”
Husband-and-wife duo Alex and Anastasia Kiperband pulled off the number of failures (and then some) that are required of any search for the best recipe. After adjusting baking temps, sugar rations, and experimenting with different brands of cream cheese and heavy cream—they finally landed on something worthy of a business license.
“When we started this business in America, we were really nervous,” Anastasia says, co-owner of Bite Cheesecakes & Bakery.
Once they won over those first customers, their confidence grew enough to start tinkering. When Dubai chocolate took social media by storm, they developed their own version, making the pistachio paste from scratch before layering the buttery kataifi pastry beneath a glossy chocolate shell to create its signature Dubai Chocolate Basque Cheesecake.
“In a lot of situations, we’re converting cheesecake haters to cheesecake lovers,” they say. “That’s probably the best feedback that we get.”
Camila Ibarra Gallego is a CaliBaja native pursuing a master's degree in culinary journalism at the Basque Culinary Center. Shaped by the culturally rich, bicultural megaregion, she's passionate about sniffing out stories that connect people, territory and culture through food. When she's not tumbling down internet rabbit holes, you can find her pretending to be a wine connoisseur at a local wine bar or nose-deep in a good book.
The team behind El Agave and Nómade will open a breezy new restaurant with tapas, housemade pasta, seafood, and plenty of wine this September
After running El Agave Restaurant & Tequileria in Old Town for 30 years and opening Nómade Tapas & Records in North Park in 2025, owner Juan Carlos Gomez wasn’t actively on the hunt for a new project. But sometimes, you have to grab the opportunities as they come, unexpected though they may be.
He was taking a stroll in Bankers Hill last year when he noticed Barrio Star was closing after 17 years. “[It] was a neighborhood staple for a long time,” he says. So he figured he’d take a look. “We were talking with ownership and threw out an offer, and then it was accepted. So we were like, ‘Okay, cool, guess we’re going to get a new concept going!” (Much respect to the YOLO business style.)
That new restaurant is nearing completion. Filo will open early in September. The restaurant’s name, pronounced fie-low, references phyllo, the Greek word for “leaf” and an unleavened pastry dough commonly used in Mediterranean (often Greek) cuisines. Gomez says the menu will range from all over the Mediterranean region.
“I’ve always been a fan of European cuisine, obviously, but I can’t land on just one,” he laughs. “I’m part Spanish, so we wanted to do something Mediterranean, have a little bit of Spanish, have a little bit of French, Italian, Greek… a lot of olive oil, a lot of sea salt, and very, very light seasoning.”
Although the menu feels European, Gomez says expect the vibe and ingredients to feel very Southern Californian. There will be tapas, of course, and other small plates, along with housemade pastas, salads, with lots of seafood (like a whole branzino) coming from local purveyors. The accompanying beverage program will feel equally breezy, “fresh, very light, citrusy, salty,” he says. “We’re going to have a pretty hefty wine list and full bar.”
Gomez’s goal for Filo is for it to feel like a laid-back, seaside eatery on the craggy Mediterranean coastline—light colors, white oak, lime wash, flowing between the indoor dining room and outdoor patio. Personally, a European escape sounds pretty awesome right about now.
Filo opens at 2706 Fifth Avenue in early September. Initial operating hours are 4 p.m. to 10 p.m. daily, with lunch and happy hour coming soon. (Subject to change.)
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.
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 city's fish taco hero is opening Concrete Cowboy across the street, plus a home-cooked Mexican sandwich spot
You have to be crazy or a genius to name a restaurant Fish Guts. You have to be even crazier to open a restaurant that holds maybe two dozen people at a time—if you don’t mind elbowing one other while scarfing down some of the best fish tacos in San Diego.
And yes, “best” is a relative term. But in Fish Guts’ case, it’s for real—and that’s saying something in a town literally world-famous for fish tacos.
Ever since Pablo Becker opened up his diminutive eatery in 2023 at the corner of Logan Avenue and Sampson Street in Barrio Logan, Fish Guts has been named one of the city’s best new restaurants in 2023, Critic’s Pick for the best fish tacos in San Diego in 2024, 2025 and 2026, as well as readers’ top pick in 2024. It’s like if Rubio’s married into the royal family.
Most of his ingredients come straight from the cold waters of the Pacific Ocean, which happens to be down the street. His de espada (blackened swordfish) taco is the stuff of legend. He’s kept Fish Guts operating at an elite level, which tends to happen when you work for five years in Chicago under chef Richard Sandoval (who, by chance, is also his cousin) and open an ahead-of-its-time high-end modern Mexican restaurant in East Village (El Vitral Restaurant & Tequileria, 2009-2013).
Now Becker is branching out again, opening two new concepts in Barrio Logan this fall.
The first will be upstairs from Fish Guts, which at one point was destined to become an intimate omakase counter. Santo Poco will be a lunch-only sandwich shop, offering takeout and delivery (no dine-in), and the sandwiches will be a little Mexican, a little French, a little Italian, a little from Chicago, a little from New York. Basically, a bunch of different styles all on really, really good bread.
“There’s probably going to be a Cuban-style sandwich in there with a touch of Mexican, some cold cut Italians, too, putting my touch on them,” he says. “That’s what I feel like is my style of cooking.”
Things will be traditional, but inventive. Like his fish & chips taco at Fish Guts: two classic dishes, one killer mash-up. There will also be a hat tip to the late, great Anthony Bourdain, a sandwich called the Antonio Bourdain.
The second will be across the street from Fish Guts in the former Lia’s Lumpia space. Concrete Cowboy will be a taco-driven joint on the same wavelength as Fish Guts (keep it simple, keep it special), but featuring land animals rather than sea brethren. Think tacos made with duck confit, ribeye, pork belly, skirt steak.
The inspiration behind Concrete Cowboy comes from Becker’s father, a lifelong Western obsessive, despite growing up in Mexico City’s urban metropolis. “He always liked that cowboy life, that vibe,” he says. “I always say ‘Dad, you just grew up in the wrong city.”
He’s aiming to open Santo Poco in October and Concrete Cowboy in November. Neither require massive renovations, and while the former Lia’s Lumpia space will keep the cabin-esque aesthetic, he’s creating more of an adobe-style exterior and an interior lined with Western-themed wallpaper and taxidermied animals. He’ll also tweak the bar layout to move from a fast-casual feel to full service.
Local designer Dane Danner is designing both spaces and visual direction for menu layouts, logos, and packaging, going for low-key, but high on vibes. Once Concrete Cowboy opens, Fish Guts will temporarily close to remodel the space to switch its white palette for a warmer feel, plus introducing a refreshed menu featuring some new tacos and other items.
Could another Fish Guts be on the way somewhere else in San Diego? Not likely, says Becker. “Fish Guts is cool, “ he says. “I feel once you start branching out, it’s more forced, not as organic.” So for now, count on Becker staying in the neighborhood.
Santo Poco opens for lunch daily October 2026, 2222 Logan Avenue (above Fish Guts). Concrete Cowboy opens Tuesday through Sunday for lunch and dinner November 2026, 2219 Logan Avenue.
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 University Heights eatery will close September 7 for a multi-month renovation and rebrand
Ten years ago, restaurant design centered around sleek minimalism. Fonts lacked serifs, clean lines dominated, and any manufacturer that made globe-shaped chandeliers must have made an absolute killing.
Things have changed since then, and Jeff Fink says it’s time for Madison on Park to glow up. On September 7, Madison will temporarily close its doors for a top-to-bottom renovation of the space and concept. Fink hopes to reopen this fall ahead of the busy holiday season, with a new look he calls moody mid-century maximalism.
“We have to take into consideration what’s going on culturally,” he says. When Madison first opened, TikTok wasn’t a thing in the U.S. and craft cocktails felt relatively cutting-edge. Today, he sees a resurgence in the vintage look, handmade goods, and low-to-no ABV drinks dominating menus everywhere.
Fink and his partner Matt Sieve have already dabbled with that sort of motif at Sonny’s Pizza, their Brooklyn-inspired joint around the corner. Fully half of the cocktail menu is made up of spritzes, mocktails, and Negronis. Madison 2.0 will take it further.
The new concept doesn’t have a name yet—Fink says they have to feel out the vibes as they make progress with the design. “The name comes when you see it appear,” he says. But he has a few design elements in mind: things like more artwork and more uplighting. “Not cluttered and overstuffed… I want to keep it intimate, sexy, and immersive.”
Madison rightly earned its rep as one of the best-dressed eateries in San Diego, nabbing an Orchid Award for interior design its first year. The returning designers Anna and David Sindelar originally transformed the space from weird padded walls and fake greenery at Lei Lounge into a mid-century modern wonderland, complete with a signature arched ceiling and geometric patterns aplenty. Michelin-recognized chef Mario Cassineri (Ciccia Osteria, Bice Ristorante) built a menu heavy on Mediterranean flavors mixed with California classics.
The new menu shouldn’t feel completely jarring, but will take cues from Fink’s recent travels in Spain with his family. Expect shareable plates with lighter ingredients. “Americans eat way too much, and our portions are way too big,” he says. “I like the idea of smaller plates, healthier plates, and being creative… I’d rather see 15 items on the menu that are all less than $20 so that I can try different ones.” Bar manager Danny Kuehner will continue developing craft cocktails and mocktails for the new venture, as well as curating a selection of wine from Europe and locally.
This isn’t the only project on their plate. Besides running Sonny’s in University Heights and Madi in Normal Heights, later this fall, Fink and Sieve will also open Josie’s, a modern all-day, Midwestern-style diner inspired by Sieve’s Minnesota roots. Like all their restaurants, it’ll hold a special part of their families’ legacies—something Fink hopes people feel as soon as they enter.
“You walk into Sonny’s, you’re like ‘Oh, Jeff’s at home,’” Fink laughs. “[Josies’] will be ‘Matt’s at home.’” The next version of Madison? We’ll have to wait and see.
Madison on Park will temporarily close on September 7 until October (barring any unexpected delays). Keep up with the newest updates on Madison’s Instagram.
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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.
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