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Our guide to San Diego’s taco scene, plus what the city's top chefs order when they’re off the clock
Tacos are San Diego’s lingua franca. The invention of food wrapped in corn tortillas is ballparked at 1000 to 500 BC. The word probably comes from the Nahuatl “tlahco”—meaning “half” or “in the middle”—a food meant to be folded and carried. Portable foods always have a way of sticking around.
San Diego was part of Mexico until the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo in 1848, so tacos didn’t arrive; they remained. After the treaty, they receded into the kitchens of families who stayed behind.
By the early 1900s, US tacos had reached a sad state—mostly ground beef, cheddar cheese, and iceberg lettuce, because Mexican staples like cotija, cilantro, chiles, and freshly pressed tortillas weren’t in grocery stores. In San Diego, that started to change around 1930 in the abode of Petra and Natividad Estudillo, who lived on Logan Avenue in Barrio Logan, the heart of San Diego’s Chicano culture (it’s where many refugees from the Mexican Revolution settled). There, the couple created a teeny tienda, slinging homemade tortillas.
Behind the Estudillos’ counter, reportedly, you could see their living room, lined with furniture and tubs of fresh tortillas. You could tell sales (and tacos) were on the rise, because their décor got increasingly nicer. The couple opened Las Cuatro Milpas next door in 1933. It was the first Mexican restaurant in the city, a taco chapel for over 90 years. Around the same era, Ralph Pesquiera Sr. started pressing tortillas with his parents on India and Grape streets, later serving smaller, corn tortilla versions of flautas for defense workers during WWII. Credited with coining the term “taquito,” he opened El Indio in 1940.
The Bracero Program (1942–64) greatly contributed to taco culture, bringing over four million Mexican men to the US as guest workers, many in San Diego. The kitchens at bracero camps were filled with beans, tortillas, and chiles. The art of making fresh masa started to proliferate, and local grocery stores stocked dried chiles, salsas, and masa harina for their new client base.
San Diego’s taco culture quantum-leapt in 1964, when Roberto and Dolores Robledo, who’d previously owned a Golden Hill restaurant called La Lomita, opened a tortilla factory in San Ysidro. They quickly added a walk-up and drive-through window and called it Roberto’s—the city’s first “modern” taco shop and eventual legend. Two years earlier, up the road in Downey, Glen Bell had launched Taco Bell; by the time he sold it to PepsiCo in 1978, every American grocery store was selling “taco kits” with pre-fried shells, seasoning packets, and jars of salsa. Taco night became a middle-class ritual.
Surfers also deserve a taco nod. In 1983, SDSU student Ralph Rubio finally made good on the recipe gifted to him by a taquero on a San Felipe beach; he opened Rubio’s on Mission Bay Drive, launching the Baja fish taco into the national imagination (Rubio’s IPO hit NASDAQ in 1999).
Two government policies also helped further taco enlightenment. In 1986, the Immigration Reform and Control Act (IRCA) legalized about 2.7 million immigrants, many in SoCal. Green cards and work permits meant access to leases, loans, and licenses. With that stability came confidence—and a wave of Mexican-owned small businesses. The late 1980s and ’90s saw the rise of family-run icons like Lolita’s, Rigoberto’s, and Cotixan. It’s no coincidence that two of San Diego’s proudest food inventions—the California burrito and carne asada fries (often credited to Lolita’s circa the late ’90s)—came onto the scene during this period.
This last point is an unsubstantiated connecting of dots. But Mexico’s a large country full of endless regional taco ideas (Oaxacan cheese, Sinaloan seafood, Texcoco barbacoa). And the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA), signed in 1992, was probably what sprung that deep well of taco ideas. Corporations opened massive operations in border cities like Tijuana, drawing thousands of workers and tacos from every nook.
Which brings us to now. There are 1,700-ish taco shops across the county, and here’s the list of our favorites.

Located in the massive parking lot by an event center and a cannabis dispensary, Mi Gusto Es may just set the bar for the best gobernador (a Sinaloan-style shrimp taco with melted cheese and a flour tortilla—a wonderful thing). Loaded with sautéed peppers, it costs three bucks. Get the spicy shrimp. Always spicy.
Best cow-head joint in the county. It’s tip-to-tail taco eating (with carne asada and quesadillas as safety valves). Lots of taco shops will do lengua (tongue) and cabeza (head meat), but De Cabeza adds delicacies like buche (pork stomach), tripe, sweetbread, blood sausage, and chapulines (citrusy-salty grasshopper snacks). You can get a whole head for a group. It’s a bonus that De Cabeza looks designed by someone with a great record collection (and yet the tacos are still $3 apiece).
Tripe is a bit like a working man’s sweetbread or rancher calamari: intestines boiled into submission, then grilled or fried. The result is a sort of crispy-outside, tender-silky-inside alt-protein. Food texture ASMR. El Panson is the tripa specialist. Get the mixed taco with carnitas and tripe in thick, handmade tortillas.

Oh, those pulpo tacos. When the 2008 recession hit, the Jazo family lowered the price on their Baja-style fish tacos to 99 cents. A massive line of families gathered in the parking lot to commune and commiserate. People remember the food that brings joy to a joyless stretch. The prices have normalized now, and the tacos are worth every penny. Get the smoked tuna fries, too, and a tamarind margarita.
Three brothers run this arty taco spot, adorned with picnic tables and black-and-white photography and festive knicknacks and a laundry line of t-shirts hung below the high ceilings. Get the chile relleno taco and the “Costa Azul” (bacon-wrapped shrimp with avocado and chipotle aioli). Strong michelada game.
This long-iconic mariscos food truck has been a fixture on a street corner in Mission Valley since 1983, but the owners also have a shop downtown. It’s all about the shrimp and fish tacos. The OG has lightly battered fish, cabbage, pico, and aioli, plus a gratis cup of consommé.
San Diego is one of the most stringently anti-chain cities in the US, but even NIMBY food grumps love this plant-based, Vegas-born concept. It’s a taco house of seitan, Beyond beef, Gardein chicken, jackfruit, potatoes, and beans. Get the Baja taco: beer-battered avocado with cilantro-lime dressing, slaw, guac, pico, and chili mayo. Parking sucks, but a glorious horchata waits inside, so hunt and peck with your Prius.

Every morning, a hungry crowd gathers in the parking lot of a building in an alley that looks designed for tax accounting. In the mid-2000s, the Fernandez brothers borrowed a friend’s food truck and parked it here, selling their mom’s recipe for birria. They owe mom flowers and maybe a car. Absolutely won the birria wars. Jorge Fernandez has turned it into a birriapalooza: birria chilaquiles, a torta ahogada soaked in broth (San Diego’s version of a French dip), birria ramen.
Here’s why there’s always a line at this place: Chef Enrique Olveras’ Mexico City restaurant Pujol has been named one of the best on the planet by almost every serious food entity. And for 10 years, his right-hand chef was Pancho Ibáñez—who’s now the culinary director for Showa Hospitality, which owns The Taco Stand. So, the second-in-charge chef from the world’s greatest restaurant is overseeing the marinade for those al pastor tacos and recipe-developing the chipotle sauce for those beer-battered fish tacos.
Started in 1972, this Tijuana icon is one of the first transplants from taco city to also conquer San Diego (it got here in 1998). The key is the trompo—adobada stacked on a vertical spit, slowly turning so that the fat constantly bastes the meat, like shawarma (the style is often credited to Lebanese immigrants in Puebla, Mexico). The adobada is TEG’s legend, but the lengua (beef tongue) is lowkey better.
The star is adobada—pork shoulder marinated in chiles, garlic, onion, cumin, and a touch of citrus until the meat is tender and as red as a New Mexico national park. Lines here are divided by meat, and TJ Tacos doesn’t serve chicken. It’s often compared to Tacos El Gordo (it was created by a former TEG manager and chef ). Get that adobada, and use the addictive, radioactive-green avocado sauce.

Getting into the “give a damn how it got to the plate” side of eating, Wet Tacos uses certified 100 percent grassfed halal beef for its birria in the Logan Heights/Grant Hill area. Try the garlic butter shrimp tacos and surf-and-turf birriadillas, too. The food truck sets up shop at The Soap Factory, which is one of the most compelling creative spaces in the city.
At the location in Point Loma, it feels like someone fully enclosed a front patio as a shaded taco hut near a fishing village. The reason why La Perla’s burritos are revered is that carne asada, and it’s equally good in taco form.
When Juan Bernardo Montes de Oca launched Oscars in 2011, smoked fish was more of a fancy-pants restaurant thing. By bringing it to the affordable taco gentry, the Tijuana native struck a cord and lines snaked around the corner. Get the taco especial with smoked fish, shrimp, and scallops—the holy trinity of mariscos.
Birria is a war story. When the Spanish colonized Mexico in the 1500s, they brought goats. Goats can survive many apocalypses, eat pretty much anything, and reproduce at a Philip Rivers rate. This gang of goats decimated locals’ crops. So, what do you do when you find a Spanish pest eating your family’s food? You slow-cook that bleaty twerp in delicious herbs and spices and create a national food treasure. That’s why many consider chivo (goat) to be the OB (original birria). Birrieria Y Menuderia Guadalajara is one of the few in the city to do it, and it’s gamey and delicious.

San-Diego-born-and-raised Pablo Becker had helped his cousin (famed Mexican chef Richard Sandoval) open Michelin-y restaurants across the country. During a hard personal stretch, he decamped to Chicago and spent five head-down years as a cook, falling in love with the line. He came home to open this fish taco joint in Barrio Logan using sustainable, local fish. He helms the plancha daily, and his blackened swordfish-belly taco with jalapeño slaw and spicy aioli is one of the city’s best.
El Viejón is what happens when two locals—Luis and Angelica Gonzalez—learn the biz (they own Lupe’s Mexican Eatery and Holy Paleta) and stitch all their best notes for a fully baked concept. El Viejón is their fast-casual mariscos concept in Convoy, Otay Ranch, and Mira Mesa. The namesake taco is a thick-ish, browned flour tortilla packed like a clown car with smoked tuna, shrimp, octopus, cabbage, cilantro, fried onions, and crema. The red sauce here is a religion-starter.
San Diegans rave about this spot next to Belching Beaver Brewery’s tasting room in North Park. Get the carne asada or the shrimp taco. There are also bacon-wrapped hot dogs, nachos, and baked potatoes with taco fixings (carne asada, pollo, adobada, the classics).
At chef Roberto Alcocer’s Michelin-starred Mexican restaurant, he also serves top-tier bar food for the casual toe-dipper. A quesataco with grilled Wagyu in reaching vicinity of world-class mezcal? Yep.

This Oceanside spot from Davin and Jessica Waite is a mission (fully plant-based; aiming not just for zero-waste but regenerative). Nobility’s great, but hard to eat. Luckily, Davin’s a hell of a chef (he also owns Wrench & Rodent Seabasstropub). For his riff on Baja fish tacos, he cooks local carrots til they’re just tender; blanches them in seaweed dashi; beer-batters them with tempura; and tops them with a lime-pepper slaw, yum-yum sauce, and housemade taco sauce.
After my month-long search for San Diego’s best birria, this taco truck in a Chula Vista parking lot topped my list. Run by food truck impresario Jorge Vargas (who owns TJ-style birria de res joint Don Vargas Birriera y Mariscos in CV, too), it also serves tripe, mulitas, and arrachera (marinated skirt steak). Pony up to the self-serve pot of consommé while you wait.
Antonio and Claudia Esquivel began slinging guacamole-loaded tacos from a cart in the Playas de Tijuana. That extra guac—and a killer carne asada—started a mania. Now their daughters Karime and Aria Esquivel are annexing the US with their taco power. If gluttony strikes, ask for carne asada served fantasma-style (an off-menu order; the “tortilla” is griddled cheese). And try the buche taco—a Mexican delicacy, it’s slow-cooked pork stomach that’s fatty, tender, juicy.
First, let’s be clear: This is not a taco shop. This is a cocina económica—soups and stewed meats in Normal Heights; some of the best, most affordable, down-home Mexican food in the county. Super Cocina serves one official taco, and it’s good. Even better is to get a combo plate with corn tortillas and improv a taco.

How a hair stylist became a taco king: Mexico City hometowner Luisteen González was hustling—hairdresser by day, taco caterer at night. While creating a French curl for a salon client, he had a taco idea: What if you crisped and browned cheese just like a French curl, and stuffed it with a taco payload?
The result—like a crispy cheese crepe filled with marinated meats—was predictably delicious. Five brothers and cousins (the Adlers and the Lombrozos) tapped him to open Puesto, which has evolved into a higher-end Mexican food empire and brewery. Naysayers will tell you Puesto’s too big to be good, but that smacks more of little-guys-do-it-better posturing than actual taste.
Puesto invested huge in culinary talent: New executive chef Raul Casillas comes from Michelin-starred Mexican spot Valle, and the beverage director’s last gig was running a place with three stars. Few humans can deny the mightiness of that filet mignon taco: crispy cheese, medium-rare steak, avocado, and a killer pistachio-serrano salsa on non-GMO blue corn tortillas.
This is modern sit-down Mexican, where Jose Flores’ lamb birria and consommé is one of the best in the city. Throw that in a blue corn tortilla with salsa macha and pickled onions? It costs more, and it’s worth it.
No shade to the hallowed taco meats, but the best options at City Tacos—started by Mexico City native Gerry Torres and former Underbelly chef Tony Guan (who has since moved on)—are the planty ones. The deep-fried chile relleno taco—with tons of Oaxaca and cotija cheese inside a güero chile—eats like taco fondue. But the showstopper is the grilled portobello taco: melted asadero cheese (like a tangier, Mexican mozzarella), corn, black beans, pasilla chiles (smoky, fruity), arugula, onion, and tomato with cilantro-serrano aioli.
At the LaFayette Hotel’s signature mausoleum Mexican restaurant, chef José Cepeda (who cut his teeth under Josh Gil at Mírame in LA) layers a fresh tortilla with crispy cheese, spicy garlic shrimp, salsa macha, and chicory.

You probably don’t need a health degree to realize food ethically ranched and organically farmed is better than food with drugs and bug spray on it. Haggo’s in Leucadia uses free-range chicken, grass-fed beef, organic everything, no seed oils, gluten-free batter. Om tacos for the Vuori in us all. Get the Costeau, a GF fish taco with locally caught fish (usually halibut), cumin-lime crema, and mango salsa.
Barrio Logan’s got a high bar for mariscos, and Ferchaladas clears it. A graffiti art marquee, picnic tables, and music as energetic as the lunch crowd. The big, share-with-friends show is the “Hija de Su [Expletive] Madre” tostada with shrimp, octopus, and fish in ceviche sauce and cilantro aioli. For a smaller sample, get the shrimp and octopus taco, with the tortilla dipped in crimson consommé. Add all the sauces (cilantro and chipotle aiolis, serrano, and guajillo). Cash or Venmo only.

We asked some of San Diego’s top chefs and restaurateurs for their go-to taco in the city. Here’s where the experts eat.
“The fish tacos [are on] regular rotation. It’s by my house, and the combo of the salsa with the spicy red onions always hits.” –Tara Monsod, Chef & Owner, Le Coq & Animae
“Unique yet authentic, great ingredients, all about the craft. Love the classic cochinita pibil … and the bistecca arranchera.” –Travis Swikard, Chef & Owner, Callie
“The taco de suadero is the perfect balance of fat and meat.” –Pablo Becker, Chef & Owner, Fish Guts
“The best taco isn’t on the menu. It’s the one the restaurant gifts you while you wait. In a time when nothing comes free, this little gesture feels like a throwback to the kind of Mexican hospitality that feeds the heart and belly—like how your abuelita hands you a taquito to tide you over because she knows you just can’t wait. And, oh, those carnitas.” –Claudia Sandoval MasterChef Winner
“Consistency is everything for me, and I don’t think another place does it better. I have been going there for 15-plus years now, and it’s a win every time. The salsas are flavorful, each in their own way, and each taco is crafted with its own garnish.” –Brad Wise, Chef & Owner, Trust Restaurant Group
“The carnitas are second to none for pure, unadulterated, and reliable satisfaction. Hit me with that, a side of those fine chopped serranos, and maybe one of the million mezcals [on the menu] and leave me be.” –Ryan Thorsen, Owner, Mister A’s
“Made-to-order tortilla with your taco. My go-tos are the birria and carne asada. Bonus: It’s a brewery, and nothing pairs better with tacos than a Mexican Coca Cola or [Craft Coast’s] beers.” –Roberto Alcocer, Executive Chef, Valle
“A hole-in-the-wall that does amazing street tacos at an affordable price. Great home-cooked rice and beans, and three tacos and a soda is, like, 13 bucks.” –David Sim, Executive Chef, Kingfisher
“The mesquite-grilled chicken taco with chicharrón, cucumber, coconut rice, and peanut salsa macha. I love the texture and flavor, and peanut macha is my favorite.” –Deborah Scott, Executive Chef & Partner, Cohn Restaurant Group
“Tequila plus Ed Fernandez’ quesabirria taco equals no hangover. You just cannot go wrong at this family-run joint.” –Jon Sloan, Culinary Director, Juniper and Ivy & The Crack Shack
“The crispy tacos, specifically the chicken. [The kitchen] uses fresh, housemade corn tortillas; does a flash-fry; and stuffs them with chicken guisado (boiled chicken cooked with onions, garlic, and tomatoes). They remind me of my childhood days growing up in Tijuana.” –Frank Vizcarra, Owner, Lola 55
“It’s an absolutely authentic and delicious family affair with a constantly rotating menu. A family from Hacienda de Cabajas missed food from home and are emulating [their hometown] in their pop-up with everything from the food to the music and décor.” –Charleen Sandoval, Executive Chef, Born and Raised
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.
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 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.
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.
Sinner Buns is building a following for its slow-made, seriously gooey weekend treats
When I was pregnant, my food craving was singular and intense. If I didn’t eat at least one thing doused in cinnamon every day (ideally, more than one), I was—to put it gently—a complete monster.
Since then, my obsession has tempered somewhat. But cinnamon buns still perch high on my top treats list, so I’m always on the lookout for the next great place to indulge. IMO, The Huddle in Mission Hills’ mondo cinnamon roll remains top-tier, but after eyeing the ooey, gooey goodies from Sinner Buns, we might have a contender.
Originally from Ukraine, Daria Nadar had already done everything one can do at a bakery—business operations, wholesale contracts, actually baking, you name it—so during the pandemic, she started dabbling with perfecting her cinnamon rolls. After she got a couple fans over social media, she threw her first pop-up to see how they’d be received. She sold out.
After a few false starts with a couple storefronts and business deals, Nadar officially launched Sinner Buns in October 2025 with her partner Filipe Pazi. After making it through an unexpectedly hectic season stuffed with holiday orders, the team closed temporarily to get everything in line and reopened this April. Business has remained in full swing ever since.
There are only so many ingredients in a cinnamon roll, but “the process is what makes it special,” she says, adding they use fresh yeast rather than powder and a 48-hour process for each batch of brioche dough made to order. (Thus the need for pre-orders.) Customers can preorder until Thursday each week for pickup Friday, Saturday, or Sunday from Sinner Buns’ ghost kitchen at 780 Hollister Street, just east of Imperial Beach.
You can also catch her at various pop-ups around San Diego. Eventually, Nadar opens to offer nationwide shipping (once she figures out the logistics and quality control) and one day, her own storefront.
But it’ll be on her terms, not the whims of social media. “We already learned how to not only rely on virality of the product, because you go viral and then it fades,” she says. “It’s a slow burner, and I know eventually, it’s going to grow much more.”

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.
From her Rancho Peñasquitos kitchen, Yanira Majano is sharing family recipes through San Diego’s growing home-restaurant movement
When San Diego launched Micro Enterprise Home Kitchen Operations (MEHKO), it changed everything. Riverside County first established the experimental program in 2019, with San Diego introducing its own countywide pilot program in 2022 and granting it permanent status in 2024. The new category allowed people to launch at-home retail food operations—basically, home restaurants—with special requirements and restrictions to ensure food safety and smooth operations. Over two dozen counties across California have since adopted their own versions with over 1,200 permits issued, around 100 of them in San Diego alone.
Some have a dizzyingly long waitlist (Warung RieRie), others are still getting their name out there (The Hidden Gazebo Eatery), and still others use MEHKO for pickups rather than fully opening their home as an onsite dining facility. Love Pupusas falls into that category.
Yanira Majano came with her family from El Salvador to the United States when she was 11 years old, bringing a love of cooking and desire to share the country’s cuisine along with her. “There’s a lot of similarity [between Salvadoran food and] Central, South America, even Baja Mexico,” she says. Salvadoran cooking tends to be less spicy than some Mexican cuisines, with an emphasis on ingredients like corn, staples like yucca root (cassava), meats like crispy pork (chicharrón), and sides like curtido, a tangy cabbage slaw that’s typically either naturally fermented or vinegar-based.
And of course, the signature dish of El Salvador—pupusas.
In San Diego, Salvadoran food lacks the widespread availability of other Latin American cuisines like Mexican or Peruvian food, but Majano says she’s seen pupusas gain popularity over the past few years. But she likes to think her recipes, which have been passed down by her mother and kitchen partner Martha, contain a certain special something.
Some pupuserías use rice flour to create the handheld stuffed tortillas, but she prefers the more traditional gluten-free corn flour. Still, it’s what’s inside that really counts. “That’s where we put our own touch,” she explains. Most of Majano’s pupusas come with cheese and different fillings like carnitas, black beans, mushrooms, or zucchini, but she also offers vegan options. Every one comes with a side of curtido and salsa, each made fresh daily.
Showing people the magic of home-cooked food might not have been possible without the MEHKO program or The Cook Alliance, a MEHKO support and advocacy coalition. Opening a brick-and-mortar restaurant requires a huge amount of start-up capital—at least six figures, generally. Not exactly pocket change. “But when the MEHKO program started in 2022, I said, ‘Oh my God, this is for me,’” says Majano.
Now with four years under her belt, she says she’d love to bring Love Pupusas to more food festivals, host more pop-ups, and eventually open a food truck to keep serving the humble dish of her homeland, taking pride in every bite. “[I put] a lot of love in everything I do. You see it when you taste the food,” she promises.
Pre-order Love Pupusas for next day pickup in Rancho Peñasquitos between noon and 5 p.m.
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.
In a world overflowing with shortcuts, marketing fluff, and “good enough,” there are still companies that choose a different answer. And in San Diego, there are plenty of them.
In a world overflowing with shortcuts, marketing fluff, and “good enough,” there are still companies that choose a different answer.
Integrity guides how they show up every day. They make hard decisions, hold themselves accountable, and build trust the old-fashioned way, one action at a time. At the Better Business Bureau, we call these businesses Torch Heroes: leaders who demonstrate that ethical leadership strengthens businesses and drives long-term success.
And in San Diego, there are plenty of them.
Take House Collective Marketing Solutions, a Carlsbad-based digital agency that won the 2025 Torch Award for Ethics for its people-first approach to marketing. Instead of pushing flashy campaigns, the team often takes a step back to make sure clients’ foundations are strong before going big. Their philosophy? Truth over transaction builds partnerships that last.
Or look at Young Black & N’ Business, where integrity shows up through community action. When a local school lost art funding, founder Roosevelt Williams III and his team stepped in with workshops, mentorship, and hands-on support to help restore creative opportunity. That kind of engagement reflects ethical leadership rooted in real impact.
And in Vista, Lotus Sustainables carried its commitment to ethics all the way to the product line. After discovering defects in a shipment of eco-friendly products, the company issued full refunds and redesigned its offerings at its own expense, a choice that shaped its identity and reinforced to customers that ethics guide every decision.
In North County, Greenway Landscape Design & Build brings integrity into everyday service. When a client’s glass was damaged, likely not by their crew, owner Scott Lawn chose responsibility over blame and covered the repair personally. For Greenway, doing the right thing serves as a north star, guiding every interaction through transparent pricing, accountable partnerships, proactive communication, and follow-through long after the job is done.
Other honorees include At Your Home Familycare, whose leadership turned down a lucrative state contract during the pandemic to protect vulnerable clients and staff, and Bill Howe Family of Companies, where hiring practices, training, and service centers around shared values, every day, on every call.
What connects these diverse businesses, from marketing to nonprofit support to home services, isn’t size, industry, or revenue. It’s something deeper: a commitment to trust as a business strategy.
In San Diego’s competitive marketplace, that trust gives companies an edge. Clients invest in relationships. They refer friends. They stay loyal when others fade.
As one Torch Award winner puts it, integrity isn’t a section in the employee handbook. It’s the operating system of the company, the invisible code that determines every choice, every day.
And that’s exactly the point of the BBB Torch Awards for Ethics: to spotlight companies that dispel the myth that ethics and success are at odds. These businesses show that when leaders choose honesty, fairness, and accountability, especially when it’s hard, they build brands that matter.
At BBB, we see nominations come in from clients, employees, and business partners who have witnessed ethical leadership up close. These submissions aren’t polished promotions. They’re stories of moments when a company chose people over profit, clarity over confusion, and trust over convenience.
The nomination window for the 2026 Torch Awards for Ethics is open through March 31, 2026, and there are more Torch Heroes waiting to be recognized.
Who comes to mind in San Diego’s business community?
And yes, businesses can nominate themselves. We encourage it. If you’ve built your business on principles rather than buzzwords, we want to hear your story.
Because in a world full of noise, integrity still deserves the spotlight, and San Diego is full of stories worth telling. Nominate your hero now.