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.
Courtesy of Tacotarian
San Diego’s Best Tacos
Gobernador Taco at Mariscos Mi Gusto Es
Chollas Creek
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.
Taco de Maciza at De Cabeza El Único
Chula Vista
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).
Tripa Taco at Tacos El Panson
City Heights
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.
Photo Credit: Valeria Plascencia
Octopus Taco at TJ Oyster Bar
Bonita & Chula Vista
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.
Costa Azul Taco at La Vecindad Neighborhood Tacos
Hillcrest
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.
The OG Fish Taco at Kiko’s Place
Mission Valley & Downtown
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.
Baja Taco at Tacotarian
North Park
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.
Quesataco a Mano at Ed Fernandez Restaurant Birrieria
Nestor
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.
Baja Taco at The Taco Stand
Multiple Locations
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.
Lengua Taco at Tacos El Gordo
Multiple Locations
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.
Adobada Taco at TJ Tacos
Escondido
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.
Photo Credit: @veetography
Garlic Butter Cajun Shrimp Taco at Wet Tacos
Logan Heights
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.
Carne Asada Taco at La Perla
Multiple Locations
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.
Taco Especial at Oscars Mexican Seafood
Pacific Beach
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 de Chivo Taco at Birriera Y Menuderia Guadalajara
Multiple Locations
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.
Photo Credit: Adam Martinez
De Espada Taco at Fish Guts
Barrio Logan
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 Taco at El Viejón Seafood
Multiple Locations
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.
Carne Asada Taco at Papasotes
North Park
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).
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.
Taco de Birria at Mariscos y Birrieria El Prieto
Multiple Locations
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.
Buche Taco at Tijuanzo
Hillcrest & Little Italy
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.
Do Your Own Thing at Super Cocina
Normal Heights
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.
Photo Credit: Mandie Geller
Filet Mignon Taco at Puesto
Multiple Locations
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.
Tacos de Birria at Cocina de Barrio
Multiple Locations
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.
Portobello Taco at City Tacos
Multiple Locations
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.
Chili Garlic Shrimp Tacos at Quixote
North Park
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.
Courtesy Haggo’s Organic Taco
Costeau Taco at Haggo’s Organic Taco
Encinitas
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.
Shrimp & Octopus Taco at Ferchaladas Birria & Mariscos
Barrio Logan
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.
“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
Mesa Agricola
Escondido
“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
Carnitas Las Michoacanas
Rolando & Chula Vista
“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
Tacos El Gordo
Multiple Locations
“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
Cantina Mayahuel
North Park
“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
Craft Coast Brewery & Taco Stand
Oceanside
“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
Tacos El Panson
City Heights
“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
Lola 55
East Village
“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
Ed Fernandez Restaurant Birrieria
Nestor
“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
Las Cuatro Milpas
Barrio Logan
“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
Antojitos La Sabrosona
Rotating Pop-Up
“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.
William Wordsworth’s 1807 poem “By The Sea” paints a glorious picture of a coastal sunset, elegantly describing the serenity that can only be found upon an ocean’s sandy shores.
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquility
And as a San Diegan, I often have to pinch myself. We’re spoiled by this breathtaking beauty each day. Come August 12, Coronado will have a new place from which to soak in the Pacific’s peacefulness: By The Sea. Created by the team at Black Swan Hospitality (Nolita Hall), Doug and Lara Hamm brought to life a Mediterranean-meets-San Diego oasis influenced by their travels through the French Riviera, Italy’s Amalfi Coast, and the Greek Isles. (It’s not the first time the couple drew inspiration from the Mediterranean coast—their wedding took place on the island of Capri, their daughter’s namesake.)
Opening the 6,500-square-foot, second-story restaurant took longer than expected. First announced three years ago, the Hamms worked with Loren Wynn and Mellissa Ramos—their own in-house design studio (Creative House)—alongside Tecture (Lucien, Anigma Encinitas, Bivouac Ciderworks, George’s at the Cove) to create a space that feels more like a coastal villa than spartan dining room.
Guests enter via a cobblestone staircase to a light-drenched dining room and outdoor patio shaded by a eucalyptus wood trellis. Windows dot nearly every wall below the high ceiling of hand-stained willow reed thatching and exposed wood beams. “We have a beautiful lounge area with some textures such as velvet and marble,” says Lara. Everywhere feels organic, with materials like white oak and Italian limestone flowing throughout the open concept and semi-private dining areas.
Photo Credit: Kimberly Motos
The curvaceous travertine bar seats 24, while the 11 outdoor tables and 44 indoor tables and banquettes hold an additional 254 guests. It’s not quite oceanfront, but the peekaboo water view and floor-to-ceiling glass pocket doors allow the nearby sea breeze to drift across the dining room. (And if you’re the type of perpetually cold person once the mercury falls below 72, never fear—the outdoor fireplace and built-in heaters will keep you comfortable all year round.)
With a name like By The Sea, one can safely assume seafood features heavily on the menu. Executive chef Alex Carpio utilizes plenty of local produce and catches, with starters like scallop crudo, tuna tartare, octopus with crispy potatoes, and calamari fritti. The rest of the menu is broken into salads, vegetables, pastas, and mains, with standouts like a beet salad with feta, kale, orange, and charred lemon vinaigrette; Moroccan-spiced carrots served with lemon yogurt, mint, and parsley; classic linguine and clams with garlic, tomato, and parsley; a lamb cavatelli with fennel, chives, and breadcrumbs; grilled branzino with tahini and Castelvetrano olive tapenade; grilled half chicken with celery, cucumber, and a Calabrian chile vinaigrette; steak frites; and pan seared scallops with pickled peppers, basil, dill, and aioli.
Photo Credit: Kimberly Motos
Lara says there was one non-negotiable item for the menu: a dramatic seafood tower. Built for 2-4 guests or 4-6, each option comes with a collection of fresh oysters, shrimp, tuna tartare, scallop crudo, and caviar, with lobster and crab claws available on the larger size.
And if you’re curious about exploring the world of caviar, you’re in luck. Doug says they’re building a tasting menu of different spirits to pair with various caviars under bar manager Andrew Phillips’ purview.
Photo Credit: Kimberly Motos
Phillips’ drinks menu uses housemade syrups and fresh-squeezed juices, encapsulating both classic cocktails as well as signature inventions like All That Glitters with Cazadores Reposado, Xila Licor de Agave, Chinola Passionfruit liqueur, vanilla, and lime; Sea Glass with Dewar’s scotch, Haku yuzu vodka, green tea, vanilla, lemongrass, apple, lime, and clarified milk; and The Mariner with Appleton Signature & Reserve Rums, Ron Zacapa 23, Chinola Passionfruit, Aperol, pineapple, lemon and orgeat. Wine pairings are curated by the directors of operations Daniela DiGregorio and Gina Martinez, spotlighting small, organic producers from around the world as well as a selection of high-end Champagnes.
Lara describes By The Sea as “a place to linger together,” with director of hospitality and general manager Heather Roberto overseeing every aspect of the low-key feeling of the space. The restaurant may be European-inspired, but the Hamms say it’s wholly Coronado.
The Hamms moved to the Crown City at the end of the pandemic after years in bustling Little Italy. “Within a few weeks of moving here, we felt the magic,” says Doug. Now, they get to be a part of building it up—CH Projects’ Baby Grand hotel is across the street and the Hotel del Coronado sits just down the block. “We’re happy to be part of the scene, and we hope it continues to grow,” he says. “That’s what makes Coronado so special.”
By The Sea opens August 12 at 1300 Orange Avenue, Coronado. Initial hours of operation are Wednesday and Thursday, 4 p.m. to 11 p.m.; Friday and Saturday, 4 p.m. to midnight; Sunday and Monday, 4 p.m. to 11 p.m.; closed Tuesday. Weekend brunch and extended hours to come soon. (Subject to change.)
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 celebrity pickleball tournaments to intimate dinner parties with your favorite Food Network chefs, here are all of the can’t-miss events going on Sept 30–Oct 4
Play is underrated. Somewhere along the way, someone decided it was something we should outgrow. That you A good song comes on, and they dance. A game appears, and they’re in. Someone hands them a melting ice cream cone, and somehow it’s the best part of the day.
Adults tend to need a reason. Or maybe just the right setting.
That’s part of what makes the Del Mar Wine & Food Festival feel different. Yes, the week revolves around food and wine, with celebrated chefs, winemakers, and restaurants drawing crowds from across the region. But what lingers afterward is the conversations that stretch a little longer than expected, the strangers who become dinner companions, the live music that pulls people out of their seats, and the rare chance to spend a few hours simply enjoying yourself without much of an agenda.
The Grand Tasting is the festival’s centerpiece, bringing thousands of guests together over two days for hundreds of bites and pours. But some of the week’s most memorable experiences happen on a smaller scale. In the days leading up to the main event, intimate dinners, chef collaborations, and guided tastings create opportunities for guests to interact more closely with the people behind the food and wine and with each other.
Signature San Diego Opening Night Party at Monarch Ocean Pub
Start festival week the San Diego way: ocean views, Baja-inspired bites, and a drink in hand as the sun goes down. The Signature San Diego Opening Night Party at Monarch Ocean Pub sets the tone for the week ahead with a walk-around tasting experience celebrating the flavors that make this city impossible to replicate. It’s an evening of fresh coastal cuisine, bold Mexican flavors, Baja seafood, and plenty of local favorites—all served against one of Del Mar’s most iconic backdrops. Consider it your first official toast to the weekend ahead…
Celebrity Pickleball Tournament Presented by Justin Vineyards & Winery
Wine and competition make an unexpectedly perfect pair. You can join Drew Brees and celebrity players at Barnes Tennis Center for a pickleball tournament benefiting Feeding San Diego, where the sidelines are just as exciting as the court. Grab a paddle, cheer from the sidelines, or simply enjoy a glass of wine while the action unfolds. The day blends friendly competition with an all-inclusive tasting experience.
Since year one, Del Mar Wine & Food Festival has partnered with Feeding San Diego to raise $100,000 in support of the organization’s mission to fight hunger across the region. Every serve, sip, and bite helps give back to the community that makes this festival possible.
Remember that pickleball paddle you swore you’d use? Time to put it to work.
Barnes Tennis Center | 4490 W Point Loma Blvd, San Diego, CA 92107
This is essentially a passport to Spain with no airport required. Set among the lush grounds of Rancho Valencia, Rioja Uncorked celebrates one of Spain’s most iconic wine regions with an evening of exceptional pours and thoughtfully paired bites. Guests will sip their way through Rioja wines while enjoying a menu featuring everything from Hiramasa crudo and uni toast to duck rillette, birria mini tacos, Cardiff Crack tri-tip sandwiches, and a sweet finale from Karen Krasne of Extraordinary Desserts (date night plans, solved).
Rancho Valencia | 5921 Valencia Cir, Rancho Santa Fe
Justin Wine Dinner with Chefs Kaitlyn Weber, Buddha Lo & Jackson Kalb
Justin Wine Dinner sounds simple: three chefs, one unforgettable table. But chefs Kaitlyn Weber (Estancia La Jolla), Buddha Lo (Top Chef), and Jackson Kalb (Top Chef) are taking you on a one-night-only culinary ride where three styles collide over a multi-course menu paired with exceptional pours from Justin Vineyards & Winery. Set in Estancia’s coastal estate, the evening unfolds course by course with pairings from Justin wines as each chef brings their own style to a menu focused on craft, connection, and a bit of friendly culinary overlap. It’s the kind of culinary conversation that only happens when very, very talented people cook together.
Estancia – Olive Lawn | 9700 N Torrey Pines Road, La Jolla, California
Isabella Dallas is a freelance writer for San Diego Magazine and the Arts and Culture Editor at The Daily Aztec in her final year at San Diego State University. She previously worked as an editorial intern for SDM, but when she’s not writing, you can find her trying the best coffee spots in SD, devouring the latest rom-coms, and indulging in anything and everything pop culture.
“Are you sure this isn’t a dating thing?” asked my husband as I headed out the door. Fair question, considering we’ve been happily, monogamously married for 15 years. But where I was headed—a Dinner With Strangers Co. collaborative dinner with Rasa Table—is a curated culinary experience emphasizing conversation and encouraging connection with whoever the universe decides to seat at your table.
Okay, I can see how that might sound like a blind date-type of matchmaking app. While I happen to love dining solo or with friends and loved ones, the idea of getting trapped at a table with a bunch of randos rockets me past my comfort zone somewhere in the realm of Neptune. Still, I’m nothing if not motivated by a good meal, and the duo’s Nigerian-meets-Malaysian collaborative menu this July at Millport in Imperial Beach ranged from the semi-familiar (savory jollof rice) to the completely new-to-me, like egusi, a rich West African stew made from melon seeds, palm wine, spices, assorted greens, and a mix of meats like beef and crayfish, along with a dollop of starch like yams or cassava to mop up every absolutely spectacular morsel.
(Quick note: if anyone has a rec on where to get good egusi in San Diego, please let me know immediately.)
Founder/chef Onyinyechukwu “Onyi” Akpa launched Dinner With Strangers in Houston before returning to her hometown of San Diego a little over a year ago. Not only did she see a widespread need for opportunities to meet new people, she says San Diego lacks some diverse cuisines. “One thing that made me move back is the actual lack of West African food,” she points out.
As a first-generation Nigerian-American and San Diego native, Akpa draws a lot of influence from Mexican, West African, and Black American culinary traditions, all of which were on full display alongside Vanishaa Doshi’s Southeast Asian fare from Rasa Table. (Think slow-braised oxtail meets coconut curry.)
It felt surprisingly easy to chit-chat with my fellow diners, most (but not all) of which came alone. Turns out when everyone is there to meet people, there’s no such thing as a cold shoulder. Long before the end of the night, the woman I ended up sitting next to captivated me with pictures of her recent travels to the brutalist Casa To boutique hotel in Puerto Escondido, Mexico and the ruins of La Recolección convent and church in Antigua, Guatemala.
We live our lives largely online, directed by the whims of The Invisible Algorithm and paid ads. A 2023 U.S. Surgeon General report categorizes loneliness and isolation as an epidemic, so cultivating opportunities for human connection has spawned a movement of supper clubs like these, each designed around the idea of making friends rather than networking opportunities or blind dates.
For some, there’s also an element of surprise. Local pop-up Cow by Bear is a 20-person, five-course dinner party series every Friday and Saturday at a secret location only revealed the day before. Another is The Blank Table, a pop-up dining series by Alexandria Ott and chef Frederick Keller centered around “cuisine, cocktails, and creativity,” which takes place six times a year. Details like the location and menu don’t get announced until the night before, and Ott says she tends to select venues that feel unexpected or off-the-beaten-path.
That’s how I found myself wandering around the lower floor of the Institute of Contemporary Art in Balboa Park, checking out Cat Gunn’s installation while sipping a cocktail created by Kiku Room and munching on an amuse bouche by chef Kassandra De Leon of Two Ducks. I cheated a tiny bit and brought a friend, but did manage to make small talk with some other attendees in the spirit of socializing with strangers. None of us knew what we were eating until we arrived, so there’s a level of trust required—not unlike prix fixe or omakase menus.
Rising demand for experiential dining alongside San Diego’s creative renaissance make it the perfect time to embrace these sorts of low-risk, high-reward types of endeavors. It’s less pressure than a blind date—everyone’s already paid and no one has to awkwardly browse the menu while also trying to keep the conversation going—and there’s no expectation of seeing each other again. That is, unless you really want to.
“Most people don’t think they’re gonna meet somebody they will like,” says Akpa. At both The Blank Table and Dining With Strangers, that proved true for this adventurous-in-food, introverted-by-nature, once skeptical, now convinced San Diegan.
Listen Now: The Latest in San Diego’s Food and Drink Scene
Beth Demmon is an award-winning writer and podcaster whose work regularly appears in national outlets and San Diego Magazine. Her first book, The Beer Lover's Guide to Cider, is now available. Find out more on bethdemmon.com.
Implementing a farm-to-table model hardly deserves acknowledgement these days. It’s not a stretch. It’s not innovative. “It’s the bare f**king minimum,” says Herb & Sea‘s executive chef Aidan Owens.
When I arrive at the Encinitas restaurant, I’m ready to talk sustainability, farm-to-table stuff, with Owens. “Did you see the chin on that?” he says of the extra big jiggly chin on the sheephead that just arrived with the day’s fresh catch. I did. It was Jay Leno adjacent.
I learn quickly that he somehow oozes both charm and stone-cold honesty. Maybe he could construct a new dish with chin goo, like he did when he had a bunch of tuna scraps and voila’d it into a smooth and crowd-pleasing ‘nduja. “I want to know what’s in there,” he says.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
The instinct to look closer, to dig into what others might discard, says a lot about the chef’s approach. I guide him back to our topic, but he has something else on his mind. “We’re overcomplicating food—what happened to just cooking good food and having fun with it?”
Owens grew up on a farm in Byron Bay, Australia, where sustainability wasn’t a concept you chat about so much as a way of life. Think dirt roads, backyard chickens, pulling vegetables straight from the ground, and a mother who believed that if you couldn’t pronounce the ingredients on a package, you shouldn’t eat what was inside.
Food wasn’t precious or performative. Making it was what you did because you were hungry and that’s still what inspires Owens today. “I like to cook good food because I like to eat good food,” he says.
His approach to sustainability at Herb & Sea began so naturally that it felt just like instinct. “I was just like, ‘Let’s order food from the people who live and work here,’” he says.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
And why wouldn’t he when lives in San Diego? Cities all over the world vie for our goods. Our tuna is sent overseas. Our spiny lobsters hit dinner plates in China and Japan. Not to mention California’s producing a third of the country’s vegetables and three-quarters of its fruits and nuts.
“Why would we outsource when it’s all here?” Owens asks.
Sustainability, in this context, is about cooking what exists in abundance, nearby, right now. “I love the local fish here. It’s f**king delicious and San Diego citrus, I mean, it is so f**ing good,” he says.
Instead of importing ingredients, Owens also looks for nearby alternatives. “You can find really cool things in the local waters,” he says, pointing out that stingray cheeks taste similar to scallops.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
Whatever he finds in that sheephead chin might just be the next substitute for marrow. But to make this work, it means getting diners amped up about the slightly unfamiliar.
Tasting menus, where diners are completely in his hands, become an opportunity to gently push boundaries. “I’ll serve mackerel, because people think they hate it,” Owens says, noting that the abundant local fish can have some fishiness. “But when it’s fresh, it’s arguably one of the best fish in the ocean.”
He also tweaks the language on the menu so people might feel more compelled to give dishes a try without preconceived notions. He might use “lengua” instead of “tongue.” “Whelk” instead of “snail.” When he puts “stingray throat” on the menu, he disarmingly calls it “skate.”
To reduce waste, scraps aren’t always discarded but rather turned into something new. Sometimes they’re smoked, cured or fermented. Apples going bad turn into apple ponzu. Lemons turn to marmalade, which stretches their usefulness far beyond peak season. “And it’s super tasty on our pizza,” he says.
What makes the food even richer, is the relationships he’s built with farmers. Though it didn’t always feel natural, Owens sought personal connection first. He recalls approaching a fisherman at the Tuna Harbor Dockside Market. “I was awkward,” he says. “I went up to him and said, ‘I like your fish.’”
Owen’s is now so close to his suppliers—like fishermen Ryan Sebo and Joe Daly—that he gets texted pictures of fresh catches right as they flop on the boat. The messages always ask if he wants first dibs. “I say yes to a lot of fish,” Owens says, noting that Herb & Sea can go through 2,000 pounds of seafood a week.
Courtesy of Herb & Sea
The next evolution of sustainability, in his view, will be chefs working directly with producers such as his alliance with Sebo, cutting out middlemen and purveyors where possible. “It will put more money in the pockets of the people doing the work,” he says.
It will mean that chefs can’t just know their local farmers and producers, but they’ll choose to work with the ones who have the best practices. Dining and sustainability will become much less about the final plate. “It will be more about the impact that plate has on the Earth,” he says.
Ultimately, he believes sustainability doesn’t need to be loud. It doesn’t need hashtags. It just needs to be honest.
“We aren’t saving lives. We’re feeding people good food,” he says.
And yet, in feeding people well—simply, thoughtfully, responsibly—something meaningful happens. Guests leave satisfied. Ingredients are respected. Local ecosystems are supported and food returns to what it has always been at its core: nourishment, pleasure, and a quiet reflection of the place it comes from.
The bird has a plan. You stand between that bird and that plan. For the remainder of your ceviche, you’ll identify as collateral damage.
There are many other nearby birds with the same plan, absolutely sucking at trying to be nonchalant about it. The pigeons are by far the boldest on account of what we can all agree just by looking at them is sheer stupidity. They come right up and ask with their red murder clown eyes: “Can bite?”
Pelicans are the silverback gorillas of this bird gang, hulking and alpha. They periodically flaunt the acreage of their wingspan in the same way a schoolyard bully puffs out his chest. One could casually land on your plate and maintain constant eye contact as it slowly enjoyed your fish taco. You share this tacit awareness with it. But it doesn’t approach because there are always a couple off-duty fishermen eating at Mitch’s Seafood. Those salty dogs have been forced to beat the shit out of a pelican or two in their day, and they and the pelican also know that.
The snowy egrets pretend to not really want your food. They seductively lord on the tops of the sportfishing boats moored in front of the restaurant, fully aware of how hot they are—svelte fashion models, Ozempic with wings. They just turn their faces to the wind so that it blows their fabulous hair. They seem to expect tourists to be overcome by their avian Brad Pittness and just throw swordfish sandwiches to them in tribute. They refuse to demean themselves like the gulls do.
Photo Credit: Dee Sandoval
The gulls are shameless menaces. The linebackers of seabirds—a lot quicker than you expect given their big butts, full of schemes and microaggressions. They stand at a distance and mad-dog everyone, intimidate with their beaks the color of old bananas. Fear is not a seagull emotion. When they take a plate—and they will take a plate—there is so much flapping and fighting. They desperately bite and claw at fishermen’s stews like zombies who finally caught up to Rick Grimes. We see one that’s missing a foot.
At some point you will hear a baby cry. It’s not a baby. It’s a gull, who has learned to mimic the sound of human babies in distress so that parents feel the great evolutionary ache—and throw fries at the crying.
“Watch out for the crab cakes,” says a server to every person she drops them to. “Those are their favorite.”
The birds have opinions on the menu. And their presence at Mitch’s is better than any Yelp review. Think they’d risk life and limb for some recently unboxed frostbite tilapia down at the local skate rink? Yeah, probably so.
Photo Credit: Dee Sandoval
But these birds know the backstory of three longtime local fishing families who own Mitch’s: Brian Kiyohara and his wife, Viola; Randy Toussaint and his wife, Tracy; and namesake Mitch Conniff. Conniff cut his teeth as a young sous chef at Jsix (a long-gone restaurant that was, 20 years ago, a slow-food star under chef Christian Graves). Then he was executive chef of American Angler, the long-range Baja fishing vessel co-owned by Kiyohara.
It was on the Angler that Mitch reportedly looked at the restaurant that was previously in this location—on stilts over the water at Point Loma Sportfishing Dock—and said to Kiyohara, “Wouldn’t it be cool if a restaurant in that space used local fish from local boats and local people like us?”
And that’s how Mitch’s was born. Its doors opened in 2008.
The real story of Mitch’s is the wheelbarrows. Every morning, the crew rolls them along Driscoll’s Wharf down to Tunaville—the market also owned by local fishing families (including Conniff). The shop has a parking spot for local boats, who bring their daily haul there every morning. Mitch’s crew fills the wheelbarrows with fresh fish and wheels them back to the kitchen. Within hours or a day or so, some of it will be lunch, dinner, and bird crack.
Photo Credit: Dee Sandoval
There are no reservations at Mitch’s. More often than not, there’s a long line snaking out the door. It moves fast. Their tiny kitchen is remarkably efficient. Locals know to go for breakfast (get the crab avocado toast) or in the off-hours (11 a.m., 3 p.m.—just not noon and 6 p.m.). There’s a small-ish indoor dining room, tables that appear more lacquer than wood. It’s a shrine to local fishers, the wall’s a family photo album of tan locals beaming with pride over a record catch, pleasantly fatigued boat captains, sun-gnarled deckhands. Leave your partner in the line, and go peruse, get a sense for the humans out there in local waters, leaving their families for days and weeks and months at a time to provide. It’s a core San Diego way of life that built this city (tuna money poured the concrete at Point Loma High), once robust and now rare.
The prized seats are on the deck. Thirty or so metal bar stools are ponied up to a small counter attached to the wooden rail. Bendy metal rods cascade from the roof like eyelashes. “They were put in to deter the birds,” a server tells me. “It worked for about a week.”
The swordfish sandwich is just about perfect and a mission statement of the place—humble and simple, like fishing. A big-ole torta, a grilled filet not cooked to sawdust like American restaurants once did, with tomato, tartar sauce, and cilantro. It shouldn’t taste as good as it does, but clean local fish cooked well on bread is satisfying in an essential, basal way. Plus, that tartar sauce blows lesser tartars away. Conniff swaps out the pickle and onion for garlic, fresh parsley, and cilantro, so that it tastes closer to an herbed Baja crema. It should be criminalized and governed by people who make laws to atone for the lack of our own self-regulation.
Photo Credit: Dee Sandoval
The bowl of mussels and clams are the can’t-miss of Mitch’s—somewhere between French moules marinières, New England steamers, and Baja shellfish pots. The science: As shellfish steam, they release their own briny liquor, meaty ocean broth in a shell. The chef’s job is to complement that gift without clobbering it. Mitch’s uses white wine for acid and leeks (a milder, sweeter, more flavorful onion), Dijon, and butter. Their clams and mussels are bigger than normal, which brings stronger flavor, making that broth one of the best in the city, sopped with the baguette.
From the cold case, get the shrimp aguachile with housemade chips—a small bowl, green as radiator fluid, the chili water a light-pain blend of habaneros (the best tasting chili by a long shot), serranos, lime, and the soft, fat glove of avocado. They also serve a campechana—a Baja mariscos specialty with shrimp, Dungeness crab, octopus, and oysters in cocktail sauce and clamato. Important note here: Don’t eat either of these dishes right away. They come out fridge-cold (there are laws about storing raw seafood), which muzzles the flavor. Order them to sit. After 20 minutes, dig in.
The crab cakes get mixed reviews, but ours are delicious. They lean cake more than crab, which isn’t what you’d expect from a fisherman-chef’s stilt house, but that’s personal preference.
Photo Credit: Dee Sandoval
You’re going to order the fresh fish plate, blackened, because you’re good at ordering. It’s the truest expression of fisherman and fish. And what you’ll receive is a shockingly spartan plate—a paprika-crusted filet, a ramekin of slaw, some herb pistou. It is excellent, even if the universal governing body of wooden-spooned grandmas would suggest it needs a rice, a tater, a proper side dish.
My argument is that the slaw is side dishing. Coleslaw is, by and large, the great American fail. Most restaurants treat it like the younger sibling their parents made them bring along on a date. At Mitch’s, they treat slaw with respect. Starts with traditional cabbage, but then gets both fresh orange and lime juice, jicama, grilled corn, and cilantro. It’s Baja meets San Diego picnic food.
If, as dictated by the most basic laws of food criticism, I needed to find quibbles with Mitch’s, fine. I’ll be that guy who walks into a runaway hit dream of three local fishing families and pretends everything isn’t entirely perfect. I’ll express them in wishes.
I wish the baguette with the clams and mussels was lightly charred. The broth is nearly sweet, and sweet loves a good burn.
Photo Credit: Dee Sandoval
I wish there was an obscene amount of slaw with the fish plate. It’s that good, and the plate looks a bit bare.
I wish there was one housemade sauce in the condiment basket. You’ve got Heinz, Tabasco, Tapatío—all of which are fine and should stay. While I realize the kitchen is limited and the line of customers is eternal, Mitch’s would go up an even higher notch if there were squeeze bottles of one killer original dressing—housemade crema, a mojo, macha, or just an unending supply of that garlicky tartar. It feels a tad crimey to go through all this effort to source local fish and cook them well, and then top it with a sauce that has no San Diego or Baja or Mitch in it.
I honestly didn’t expect Mitch’s to be as good as it still is. Everything we ate (except maybe an octopus taco with tentacle bits fried into nubs) was good to excellent. The constant onslaught of locals and tourists and the excruciating intricacies of operating a business in California should have exhausted the will to live by now, let alone cook.
There’s a reason the birds are still outside, with crimes in their eyes and menu preferences.
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.
If you can’t quite swing the cost of a trip to the African outback, the Safari Park’s new Elephant Valley is a pretty convincing Plan B. The 13-acre immersive habitat—the largest project in the San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance’s 109-year history—is home to eight African elephants, but it’s the thoughtful details that steal the show. Keep your eyes open for intricate Kenyan-inspired artwork, native landscaping, and stop by the Mkutano House, where you can grab lunch with a front-row view of the herd.
Best Fresh Grounds
Pepper Park
Pepper Park became the emotional anchor of the bayfront overhaul when the National City park reopened this March with a 2.5-acre expansion. Hopefully that’s just the start. The California Coastal Commission also approved the city’s ambitious waterfront plan, clearing the way for a long-envisioned 77-acre bayfront makeover with more green space, better bike paths, and improved waterfront access. Money still has to be raised, but head to Pepper Park, sit on a brand-new bench, and gaze out at the future of the South Bay.
Not every family destination comes with roller coasters—sometimes, they have paint rollers. The Willie Henderson Sports Complex in southeast San Diego recently received a new paint job and major facelift (courtesy of San Diego FC, the Prebys Foundation, and community advocates), giving thousands of kids a safer, smoother, and more colorful place to play basketball or soccer. If your weekends revolve around sports gear, folding chairs, and orange slices, you’ll definitely appreciate the upgrade.
Best Slice in the Galaxy
Killer Pizza From Mars
Parents come for the pizza. Kids come for the games. Sci-fi nerds come for it all. Killer Pizza From Mars is an Oceanside mainstay for families who love arcades, vintage Star Wars memorabilia, and piled-high pizzas with outrageously silly names like the “Mars”gherita pizza. Order a basket of Killer Fries, sink your teeth into a Martian Melt sandwich, and don’t be surprised if your kids clamor for a return mission.
Best Return to Monkey Business
Fanuel Street Park
After what must have felt like an eternity for Pacific Beach families, Fanuel Street Park’s playground is finally back. The old play structure got the heave-ho nearly two years ago, but this spring, the community raised enough donations to replace it with modern climbing structures, new swings, and better accessibility. It’s finally back to being a low-key locals spot perfect for picnicking, splashing around, and letting the kids burn off some energy.
Photo Credit: Farah Assi
Best Way to Frustrate Your Child in a Fun Way
Lara’s Labyrinth
If screen time has obliterated your attention span, try giving your brain a workout at an escape room. Lara’s Labyrinth provides a few options ranging from kid-friendly to “try not to pee your pants in fright,” where participants can attempt to escape an enchanted forest or decipher clues left by Leonardo da Vinci. (Some rooms have G, PG-13, and R-rated versions for your family’s comfort level, but maybe save the “Cannibal” room for an adults-only excursion.)
Best Babysitter With a Degree in Marine Biology
Living Seas at Birch Aquarium
Birch Aquarium has always made a splash, but the $18.7 million Living Seas exhibit is a tidal wave of awesome. The immersive exhibit features different marine ecosystems throughout the Pacific Ocean, from the warm aqua waters of tropical zones to the frigid (but nourishing) Pacific Northwest. Bigger is better here: There are areas designated for the gigantic sunflower sea star and giant Pacific octopus, so prepare for oceanic marvels to wow you.
Best Hip New Thing at the Hip Kid Place
Artopia at The New Children’s Museum
Forget “don’t touch the art.” At Artopia, touching, building, climbing, experimenting, and making a colorful mess are all exactly the point. Created by the museum’s in-house Creative Studios team, the interactive space invites kids to become artists through hands-on projects like weekend ceramics workshops and after-school programs. When creativity gets a little chaotic is when it’s at its most fun.
The Fairmont Grand Del Mar used to feel like someplace you admired from afar. Grand Social changed that. Three levels of outdoor space are now home to a bar and grill, bocce courts, and other lawn games, as well as a summertime concert series and other family-friendly events that welcome locals just as much as overnight guests. It’s proof that one of San Diego’s fanciest addresses also knows how to have a little fun.
Best Place to See Sharks and Only Be a Little Scared
SeaWorld’s Shark Encounter
You don’t need a cage to come face-to-face with sharks anymore. SeaWorld’s revamped Shark Encounter lets you get startlingly close to species like reef sharks, massive sand tigers, and endangered Australian leopard sharks, all inside newly redesigned habitats. It’s equal parts adrenaline and education, and a good reminder that these misunderstood predators are closer to Bruce in Finding Nemo than Jaws in… well, Jaws.
Photo Credit: Richie Wireman
Best Mission for Major Tom
LEGOLAND’s LEGO Galaxy
Houston, we have a new reason to visit LEGOLAND California. LEGO Galaxy is the plastic-brick haven’s biggest in-park investment ever, including the first new roller coaster in 20 years. Between the customizable Galacticoaster experience, build-your-own spacecraft stations, and interactive space adventures, aspiring astronauts can easily spend hours exploring this brick-built universe.
Torch Heroes: Why San Diego’s Most Trusted Businesses Win by Doing the Right Thing
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.
2025-Torch-SD-09131839 (2)
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?
A vendor who always delivers — and always explains why.
A competitor who chooses the high road even when shortcuts tempt.
A team within your own company whose day-in, day-out choices reflect deep character.
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.
