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The two families behind the North County restaurant take a hands-off approach to great food and wine
The Perfect Order: Beef Tartare | Crudo | All the Wine
We take really good food and don’t f*** it up. And food from right over there tastes better than something older and further away.”
That’s former rapper and current chef Elliott Townsend’s simple lyric explaining why he and his fellow chef/partner/wife Kelly are so whoop-whoop on local food. I stare through the window into their petite cooking sauna at Little Victory Wine Bar in Carlsbad, where the two of them are surrounded by it—melons from Escondido’s JR Organics sliced into juicy scythes, Thompson Heritage Ranch pork chops from Ramona, bluefin tuna from Shane’s Seafoods. All they’ve got is an induction burner and two ovens to handle the orders of a wall-to-wall Friday night crowd, but they have mutually accumulated grit and Motown singalongs.
There are a couple dozen feel-good philosophical reasons to buy melons at peak, juicy, seasonal ripeness from places like JR Organics: supporting local farmers (in this case, Joe Rodriguez and his family), reducing food waste (fresh food is a melodramatic and fairly terrible traveler), lowering your carbon footprint (debatably and depending on the case).

But when it comes to the simple, simian joy of eating—in almost all taste tests, food picked at peak season down the road and served as immediately as possible puts a total ass whipping on food picked when it’s not-quite-ripe and shipped across the country or continents. Think of how you look and feel after a long road trip. Ripe, but not in the right way? Same.
Great chefs can make canned asparagus—the wet paper towel of food, nature hitting its Coldplay-kiss-cam rock bottom—and turn it into something pretty good. But true enlightenment comes when great chefs start with local ingredients that don’t suck. Plus, story matters.
“It just respects the microclimate and the small aspect of terroir in San Diego, which is why I fell in love with natural wine,” says Elliott, whose Instagram handle is @nattywinechef.
Little Victory is his and Kelly’s new home. After years of study at some of the city’s top restaurants (Juniper and Ivy, Cowboy Star, The Fishery), the duo launched the raved-about pop-up dinner series Long Story Short at places like Little Italy’s Vino Carta and now-shuttered North Park wine bar Little Thief, cheffing as house guests. Local dirt dictated their menus.
“We weren’t dope chefs, and we’re not now,” Elliott lies. “We’re just cooks, and we’re like, ‘Okay, where do we want to work?’ We’ve done so many pop-ups out of random places that were illegal. It’s really about just making it happen with what you got. But I was tired of stuffing an entire kitchen into my wife’s trunk.”

Now they’re in a permanent spot, having teamed with another married couple, Little Victory creators Jeremy Simpson and Kirsten Potenza. Potenza is the CEO of now-global fitness brand Pound, which may explain why the crowd is 20- and 30-somethings with flexible muscles: young surf lads with firefighter-wall-calendar mustaches and wetsuit tans; women who’ve mastered the art of using the sun as whole body foundation makeup, not a rookie sunburn in sight.
Potenza designed the wine bar/restaurant/general store (one wall is packed with local food and drink provisions, sold to-go). Things are crammed in all the crannies, but you largely can’t tell. There’s probably wine under your seat. There are antique wicker chairs and mismatched things, the décor of people with good instincts, winging it. And that’s what any new restaurant from first-timers is: a relentless winging.
Simpson was the bar manager at LA’s James Beard Award–nominated, Italian-ish spot Bestia. He came to San Diego as the beverage director for San Diego’s Michelin-starred Jeune et Jolie and its sister restaurant, Campfire. He’s a level-three certified sommelier who’s fallen hard for the natural wine scene, which is the language of Little Victory.

Natty wines—AKA lo-fi wines, raw wine, or zero-zeros (zero things added, zero things taken away)—aren’t groomed or modified or clarified or dolled up in any major way. They are the closest expression of what that specific grape (grown in that particular soil, on that hillside, with that hillside’s specific cast of honeybees and supporting pollinators, activated by whatever yeast is loitering in the air) tastes like when it ferments.
Most commercial wines are started with commercially dependable yeasts, then hit with preservatives (sulfites) and “fined” (things like gelatine and isinglass are added to remove proteins and tannins and clarify the wine). Sometimes producers age those wines with oak chips instead of in oak barrels, and sometimes they chaptalize them, or add sugar. None of these are inherently negative things, and some are good (aside from maybe chaptalization, which kinda sucks in all circumstances except in cold climates where grapes can’t develop enough of their own sugar). It’s just a matter of preference, and Little Victory prefers peak ingredients, relatively untweaked.
“There’s a pursuit in the American food system to have everything taste perfectly the same every time,” Simpson says. “There’s something good to be said about consistency, but with natural wine, the unpredictability is kind of the beauty of it. You can chase a different expression based on whether there was excessive rain. Or if there was something happening with the soil… Maybe it was better that year.”
What traditionalists might call blemishes, natty champions call charms. Natural wines use wild yeasts—no preservatives, no fining. “Winemaker is a term that they use, but a lot of times in natural wine, I look at them more as stewards for the grapes,” Simpson says. Lo-fi winemakers are the bumper on the grapes’ bowling: just making sure it stays out of the gutter.

As such, natural wines take some getting used to. I avoided them for years, based on my “vinegar-and-AA-batteries” impression of their early years. Now I’m hooked. Partially because winemakers have gotten exponentially better at this hands-nearly-off process, sure. But also because natty wines’ non-commercial otherness, their charming juice funk, is just plain exciting. Things you have to learn to love are usually the things you love the most. (For instance, big, fluffy, NASA-engineered pop hooks are spontaneously singable but quickly become too clingy and annoying, whereas the taciturn charms of Radiohead and Frank Ocean take longer but hit deeper veins. Natties are the indie record stores of wines.)
Simpson starts us with a cooled Florèz Wines ’24 Lovebirds, a co-ferment of organic Santa Cruz pinot noir and chardonnay. It’s a “glou-glou”—a French term meaning “glug glug,” it denotes easydrinking wines not to be fussed over or preciousized. Then comes the Frisant Bianco from il Farneto, a pear-tasting pet nat (naturally sparkling wine) made from sauvignon blanc and spergola, an ancient grape from Emilia-Romagna, Italy.
Next, the Haus Weiss from Weingut Brand in Pfalz, Germany. A blend of Weissburgunder (pinot blanc) and Sylvaner (a spicier grape with an opinion). The final is a feinherb (meaning “off-dry,” or lightly sweet) riesling from Max Kilburg, the 20th-generation winemaker on his famed family estate in Mosel, Germany. Tastes like peaches.

Simpson’s skill is that he can tell a story of why each hilltop is unique, what farm animals are puttering around, why it’s fun to give a damn about those things and how they affect what you’re drinking without sounding like a doctoral student forcing a dissertation rehearsal on friends who would have canceled had they known. Or like a tent revival for fringe juice religions. Pretension is the poison of any potentially awesome newish cultural obsession, and Little Victory avoids it.
“This is Stagiaire,” Simpson says. “The winemaker is Brent Mayeaux, based out of Treasure Island in the San Francisco Bay. All chardonnay from Sonoma Mountain, from a very biodiverse vineyard. Sheep grazing, cover crops. It’s beautiful. He says it tastes like a gooseberry margarita.”
Knowing the story of the grower, rancher, or maker is dawn-of-time stuff, since almost all food was local food until the industrial revolution. It just got lost for a while in the US with the nationalization of food production (winter tomatoes from Florida, plastic-encased blueberries from a distribution plant in the middle states).

Local-food energy got new wattage around 2010 when Noma in Copenhagen was named best restaurant in the world thanks to its chef’s penchant for foraging and cooking exclusively what grew around the restaurant (a feat, because in frozen-earth Scandinavia it’s easier to grow seasonal affective disorder than food).
If René Redzepe could achieve chef sainthood by cooking reindeer moss, pine cones, and ants from nearby fields, imagine the possibilities in places where the soil was less handcuffed by the vagaries of Celsius.
Since then, the idyll for more and more cooks and drinks people has been to have what’s on the plate or glass tell you a story about the nature in a place. Ideally a place down the road. Let food be a true expression of soil and sky and microscopic cellular bugs and rain or lack of rain. Go forward by going back. Instead of serving crappy versions of fruit grown in its off-season through science and might, pick that fruit at peak season, can it, save it for later, pickle it, ferment it, koji and miso it. “Terroir” has been poked and sullied as a food snob virtue signal, but it really just means (my interpretation) “food that tastes like what it’s supposed to taste like.” Tastes like the soil in Escondido. Like the salty clouds over the pinot noir grapes in Santa Cruz.
So the Townsends’ food shares a storytelling jones with Simpson’s wines, and that’s what makes Little Victory such a thrill.

A killer roasted romanesco with pistachio crema and pesto hits the table, a pretty simple preparation that happens to be vegan. The green, spiral vegetable—a crucifer in the ballpark of broccoli and cauliflower—looks like an acid trip, as if Ken Kesey grew it in L. Ron Hubbard’s personal loam. Char tastes so damn good on crucifers because they have a natural bitterness (due to sulfur-happy compounds called glucosinolates), and high heat not only produces the Maillard reaction (that buttered popcorn–tasting marriage between amino acids and sugars), but it also disables those sulfur bombs.
In my line of work, I’ve eaten a lot of raw beef cubes tossed in various sauces, but Little Victory’s tartare—Thompson Heritage Ranch sirloin in a house-made Caesar—rivals Kingfisher’s in Golden Hill for the best I’ve had. Why hasn’t every cook tossed their tartare in Caesar? Feels like a “duh” no-brainer. The crudo—raw bluefin in a watermelon consommé with a Thai-inspired salsa (herbs, chiles, lemongrass, barrel-aged fish sauce)—is excellent. And a plate of rigatoni gets a sauce of gold bar squash, saffron, and miso with roasted tomatoes. Like San Diego summer on a plate.
Halfway through our meal, we spot Simpson’s and Potenza’s son—a long-haired, moon-blonde, 4-year-old energy dispenser who acts as maitre’d. Little Victory is his after-school extended learning program. The couple sold their house in Bonsall and moved into a condo 50 feet from the restaurant’s front patio. Simpson will disappear around 7 p.m. to walk him across the street and kiss him good night, then return to talk about pet nats.
“He’ll ask, ‘Are we packed tonight?’” Simpson says. “Yeah, buddy, we’re packed tonight.”
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.
Chantal Partolan’s growing food business blends her Filipino and Chinese heritage with a creative, memory-driven approach to cooking
As a child, Chantal Partolan never considered cooking as a viable job route. Rather, it was a passion she could turn to as a way to flex her creative muscle, from the time she was in school all the way into adulthood working in a corporate space.
“I never felt like [cooking] was a chore, like some other people feel,” she says. To feed that passion, she started hosting supper clubs in 2022, creating menus and full tablescapes to bring together friends and family. With each successful gathering, she wondered: Could she take this further?
In 2024, she did. Officially launching as Bik-Lun, she began small, hosting baking pop-ups in Long Beach before moving back to her hometown of San Diego in 2025. Now, Partolan still mostly pops up at small local businesses like Moniker General and Joon Shoppe, but now also offers small batch catering and private chef services, all centered around her father’s Filipino and her mother’s Chinese heritages.

Bik-Lun (pronounced bik-LUHN, like “fun”) is named for her mother. “When she migrated to America when she was younger with all her siblings, they all got American names,” Partolan says. She doesn’t strictly adhere to rigid culinary rules—instead, she lets memories drive her creations.
“Now that my grandparents are no longer here, trying to revisit those memories and share them with others has been a really important part of this journey for me,” she explains. Ingredients like red bean and black sesame reflect her Chinese roots, while more savory items like sinigang (a sour and savory Filipino soup) pay homage to her father’s family.
Collaborating with other children of immigrants is another way she experiences flavors through a fresh lens. There are so many Filipino-run small businesses willing to share their own familial memories and inspiration, she says. “Hearing their experiences sometimes helps me recount my own.”

You can next catch Bik-Lun on September 27 at Home Ec + Best Bud with Magnaye (formerly One of One), October 3 at Patine’s new location in Bankers Hill, and October 10-11 at the Mingei Museum for Merkado Kultura, a makers market for Filipino producers. Partolan says since most customers are familiar with her sweet products, she’s planning to offer more savory items—like a breakfast sandwich—at the Home Ec event to give people a taste of her creative versatility.
Eventually, she hopes to add some permanent residencies to Bik-Lun’s schedule—a few are already in the works, so stay tuned—while also looking for ways to combine her food and photography expertise. (A cookbook? Maybe, she says.) But in the meantime, Partolan will remain curious about where she comes from—and how it can take her to where she’s going.

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.
Jacob Chen’s Made for MeiMei adds protein and fiber to flavors like ube, black sesame, and PB&J
As a kid, Jacob Chen scrounged up whatever odd jobs he could—running lemonade stands, organizing garage sales, reselling appliances on Facebook Marketplace. But there was something about cooking that kept him coming back to the kitchen. “It started as a way for me to spend time with my mom,” he says. “In a way, I think it was inevitable that I would begin a food-based business.”
That business ended up being Made for MeiMei, a line of low-sugar, high protein and fiber mochi flavors like ube, matcha, red bean, black sesame, peanut butter and jelly, and chocolate hazelnut. “‘Mochi’ is derived from ‘mochigome,’ which is the special type of short grain rice that gives mochi its stretchy, chewy texture,” he explains. Traditionally served in Japan as a dessert to celebrate the new year (similar to bibingka in the Philippines and nian gao in China), American-style mochi tends to taste sweeter and often comes as mochi ice cream. However, Chen points out that wasn’t always the case.

“Before mochi was synonymous with ice cream and refined sugar, it was simply a rice based snack filled with whole food ingredients,” he says. “That’s the version of mochi we’re trying to bring back.”
Made for MeiMei’s primary ingredients are rice flour and coconut milk, plus the featured ingredient for each flavor. But rather than using refined sugar, Chen sweetens his mochi with monk fruit and uses organic pumpkin seed protein and chicory root fiber to create what he calls “the first better-for-you mochi.”
Recent collaborations include a mochi-wrapped gelato with An’s Dry Cleaning, strawberry daifuku cream puff with Mon Chourie, and a funfetti chantilly cream dip mochi with The Clovery, but Chen has his sights set on retail expansion. Currently, Made for MeiMei products are available online, locally at Easy Does It Cafe, Bodega Market, or at upcoming events like Embolden Beer Company’s Taste of Shogun on September 27 (admission is free!) and a pop-up with Organic Oren on October 5.

Besides being better for you nutritionally, Chen’s goal for the business is to also be better for the world. He’s worked in rehabilitation clinics and volunteered at San Quentin when he lived in Berkeley—experiences that transformed his worldview. “It really doesn’t take much to be on the other side of the fence,” he says. That’s why he donates portions of proceeds to organizations like Second Chance San Diego (which helps formerly incarcerated people find steady employment), Immigrant Defenders Law Center (a nonprofit deportation defense law firm), and Border Angels, an advocacy group working to reduce fatalities of people crossing the United States and Mexico border.
Chen has his sights aimed high, hoping to bring Made for MeiMei to more local grocery stores and cafes before hitting national retail shelves. Will he stop at mochi? Maybe not.
“There are so many childhood treats that could use an ingredient upgrade,” he says. “Mochi is just the beginning!”

There’s no such thing as too much omakase, and we’re leaning in. On September 24, chef Davin Waite (The Plot, Wrench & Rodent) will join chef Mark Correa at Roppongi Restaurant & Lounge for a one-night-only, eight-course omakase experience with an optional (but personally recommended) beverage pairing curated by sommelier Humberto Ramirez. You definitely need to snap up a reservation for this one before they’re gone—and with a dream team like this, they will be gone.

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.
Chef collaborations, cooking demonstrations, DJs, games, photo ops, and plenty of reasons to keep wandering on Oct 3 and Oct 4
At Del Mar Wine & Food Festival’s Grand Tasting, the walk between food tents can take a while. You might stop to watch a chef competition, get pulled toward the DJ, or find yourself playing mini golf before you remember which bite you were after.
Across the Del Mar Polo Fields, there’s also line dancing, a 1961 red Beetle ready for photos, and an aviation-themed pop-up with Reno Tahoe chefs and mixologists. Need a slower stretch? Check out the wellness stops or browse the shops. Here’s what to look for as you make your way through the festival’s zones:

VIP ticket holders get a head start, with the VIP Reception running from 11:15 a.m. to 1 p.m. and serving first bites, first sips, and a few surprises before the Grand Tasting officially gets going. Champagne Telmont will make the festival’s first pour, while Cohn Restaurant Group brings carajillos alongside pours from Karl Strauss, Licor 43, Tap Truck San Diego, Bebemos Tequila, and Devil’s Grin Gin.
The bites are just as good. Celebrity chef Beau MacMillan will serve a first bite, while Warung RieRie is bringing one of its highly coveted dishes. Yes, this is the restaurant that currently has an eight-month waitlist. You’ll also find bites from The Shellfish Affair, The Waverly, Wolf in the Woods, Dora Ristorante, Cori Pastificio Trattoria, An’s Gelato, Pacific 333, Vintana, and more.
And because every good first act needs a soundtrack, there will be live painting and music, with Courtney Govan bringing live jazz to the reception. It’s the perfect opening act before the main event.
During the VIP Reception, chefs Tommy Gomes and Jeff Roberto will conduct a live ahi cutting. Plant Paradise brings another culinary angle, with celebrity chef Zuliya Khawaja joining the plant-based lineup. The area combines chef talent with plant-forward restaurants and brands, giving guests a chance to see just how creative plant-based cooking can get.
Throughout the weekend, The Stage keeps the cooking demonstrations coming, with celebrities and chefs sharing techniques, recipes, and plenty of inspiration for anyone who plans to actually cook something when they get home. Before you know it, you’re watching a chef demo, casting your awards vote, and sipping mezcal on the grass with friends you just met in line.

At the Grand Tasting, dancing just sort of… happens. A DJ drops the right song. Someone’s holding a taco in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. The country zone breaks into a two-step. Friends convince friends. Strangers become temporary dance partners. By the end of the day, everyone’s forgotten they were ever worried about looking cool.
DJ TENAX will be spinning in Plant Paradise, bringing house, techno, and UKG to an open-air dance floor that’s hard to leave. Chris Cantore, a veteran San Diego broadcaster, takes over the VIP Tent, while BootScootin Line Dance and PVO Events bring country-style line dancing to the Polo Fields, so you can work off your tasting itinerary one two-step at a time.
Then a live guitar hum in the distance leads you to a fuchsia boa over at the Pride Zone, where you’ll find yourself covered in sequins and having the lawn party of a lifetime.
Not every activity at the festival requires a tasting glass (although it’s certainly encouraged).
The Matchday Experience brings San Diego FC and San Diego Wave FC into the Grand Tasting, complete with interactive tents and plenty of game-day energy. Athletic Brewing is also sharing activation space with San Diego Wave FC, bringing a fun nonalcoholic option into the mix.
For golf fans, the Los Angeles Golf Club is bringing a Dryve Box golf simulator to the festival. And if your competitive streak is less fairway and more miniature windmill, SD Pop Up Mini Golf has you covered.
The Beach Zone gets in on the action, too, with surfing-inspired elements and Playavole paddle courts. Hemlock Hats and other California brands add to the coastal atmosphere, but the real draw is having somewhere to actually play. And don’t worry, you can cool down in COOLA’s turquoise beach chairs, too, and when your bestie suggests reapplying sunscreen, obviously you do. Basically, there are plenty of ways to work up an appetite between tastings.

You’re going to want to take photos, and the festival has made that extremely easy.
A Timeless Day is bringing multiple photo moments to the Grand Tasting, including a 1961 red Beetle at The Italian Getaway and a teal VW bus in The Beach Zone. For something a little more polished than the standard group selfie, head to the Locals Zone for Pixster Photo Booth and San Diego’s version of a Glam-Bot, complete with a grass red carpet.
Bebemos Tequila is also bringing back its festival-favorite hidden speakeasy. If there’s ever a time for a photo, it’s here. Otherwise, people might not believe you. The speakeasy serves bone marrow shots straight from the bone, with candlelight, a lounge area that makes it hard to believe you’re in a tent outside, and little orange shot glasses. This is “first slide of your festival photo dump” material.
You can also grab your squad and head to LaCroix’s bright and ridiculously cute setup, or swing by San Diego Magazine’s area, where you might stop for a photo in front of the larger-than-life SD Magazine sign and find yourself watching a painting come to life.
But really, you’re in Del Mar. The ocean is essentially your backdrop, and every zone gives you an excuse to stop for the obligatory “totally candid” photo. And yes, the best strategy is to get the group shot before everyone has been sampling wine for three hours.
The Grand Tasting also doubles as a little shopping excursion, with local makers, fashion, vintage finds, jewelry, and lifestyle brands scattered throughout the grounds. Smoke Revival Vintage Vault brings the thrill of vintage treasure hunting, while Nortte Hats and Hemlock Hat Company make a pretty good case for leaving with a new accessory.
Keep an eye out for jewelry and creative vendors, too, including Iris Studio Jewelry and New Nightfall Jewelry, plus local artists and makers featured throughout the festival.
You can come for an all day food and wine festival, but still leave with something shiny you definitely did not plan to buy.
We know, at some point, even the most dedicated grazer has to come up for air. The Novo Dia Wellness Zone is designed for exactly that, bringing together mocktails, coffee, hydration, wellness brands, and even bites from Parakeet Cafe.
Step away from the food and drink frenzy for a few minutes, relax in the shade, try some skincare, stretch with prAna, and maybe grab some Instant Hydration Electrolytes before round three.
There’s also nothing wrong with stopping to smell the roses at Green Air Botanicals while devouring a dairy-free cheese dip. It’s less about disappearing from the party and more about making sure you have enough energy to keep going.
The zones give you somewhere to wander, and the activities give you a reason to keep going. So grab your tasting glass, check the schedule, and leave a little room in your afternoon for something you didn’t plan on doing. At Del Mar Wine & Food, that’s usually where things get interesting.
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.
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.
Founder Dharti Jadav sources cumin, turmeric, coriander, and more directly from small-scale farms across India for fresher, more flavorful results
Around the world, people prize wine from hyper-specific regions. We know that grinding whole coffee beans results in a richer cup than using preground beans. So why do so many of us rely on preground spices to flavor our food?
Dharti Jadav wants us to change that perception of spices, using her own childhood memories from growing up in Ahmedabad, a city in western India in the state of Gujarat. She’s lived in the United States for 20 years, but never had to settle for substandard, stale spices from an old spice rack in a random grocery store. Her mother, who visited every year, would always bring along as many spices from India as she would need until the next year.

That changed with the pandemic. “I’m used to a certain freshness level in the spice,” she explains. When the world went into lockdown, she resigned herself to shopping at a large grocer to refill her shelves.
It didn’t go well.
The cumin tasted like cardboard—nothing like the piquant, aromatic herb her grandfather grew in India. “It literally felt like somebody was taking away my memories,” she says. She couldn’t let that happen. So she decided to launch Koshna to present spices in a way that actually showcases their depth.
Sharing a variety of fresh spices for people to fully experience their vibrancy is one thing. But Jadav’s business plan ensures all Koshna products are also sourced individually from small-scale farmers in India, who harvest and deliver the same year to ensure full potency. For comparison, mass-market spice brands can take two years or more to hit shelves, and every day in storage diminishes its vitality and flavor.
Plus, most spices aren’t just one flavor from one place, she explains. “There are varieties of specific turmeric that have their own nuances and grow in a specific region,” she says. But if you look at 99.9 percent of turmeric bottles on mass market shelves, the label will just say “turmeric.” We don’t simplify wines into just “white” or “red.” So why don’t spices, the commodity that literally launched global trade routes we still use today, get the same specificity, in stores or in restaurants?

“All these restaurants, they’re all about farm-to-table,” says Jadav. The menu often says where the local lettuce was grown or where the fish was caught. “I have yet to find a restaurant that says ‘my spice comes from this farm.’” Most people don’t even know where black pepper originated from. (Hint: it’s also from India.)
Jadav sells Koshna spices online, various farmers markets in San Diego, seasonal pop-up events, and small shops like Home Ec, Bica, and Fox Point Farms. Currently, her product line features spices like Lakadong turmeric (from Umnari in the Meghalaya region), Chambal coriander (named for the Chambal River flowing through the Khera Rudhda in Rajasthan), Aaji fennel (named for the Aaji River flowing through the Ramod in Gujarat), Resham Patto chilli (from Ramod, Gujarat), and of course, the spice that started it all—Banas cumin (named after the Banas River flowing through Dungala, Gujarat).
She knows it can feel intimidating to go from a shaker of flavor to having to grind your own. But it’s worth it, she promises. “Just play with it,” she laughs. “Cooking, it’s like the simplest thing. Nothing wrong can come out of it.”

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Beth Demmon is an award-winning writer and podcaster whose work regularly appears in national outlets and San Diego Magazine. Her first book, The Beer Lover's Guide to Cider, is now available. Find out more on bethdemmon.com.
Some problems are worth having—like too many things to eat, sip, and do in one afternoon
At Del Mar Wine & Food Festival’s Grand Tasting, everyone has their own goals for the day. One friend wants oysters and Champagne. Another heard there’s line dancing. Someone disappeared into Taco Alley. The food person is making a beeline for every chef demo, the golf friend has found the simulator, and someone else is already settled into a beach chair with a mezcal cocktail and has announced they’re “never leaving.”
Consider yourself zoned in.
This year, the Grand Tasting turns the Del Mar Polo Fields into a full-blown foodie wonderland, with chef showdowns, wellness escapes, art installations, lawn games, music, and plenty of magazine-worthy plates. But the zones are where everyone gets to play their own way. You might sip your way through the SLO Zone, accidentally spend the afternoon behind the DJ booth in Plant Paradise, or live out your best beach day in The Beach Zone.
With 100-plus chefs and restaurants, 150-plus wineries, breweries, distilleries, and drink makers, plus a whole lot more happening in between, there’s no shortage of ways to spend the weekend. And with the Grand Tasting taking place October 3 and 4, there’s actually time to explore.
Because the problem with bringing your favorite people to an adult playground is that everyone wants to play differently. Luckily, you get two days to figure it out. Here’s where to start:

The Beef Experience, presented by Brandt Beef – One World Beef, is for the people who believe a food festival is a perfectly reasonable excuse to build an entire afternoon around meat. Brandt Beef brings its signature fare to the Polo Fields alongside a seriously stacked lineup of local favorites, from Tanner’s Prime Burgers and Ranch 45 to Jimmy’s Famous American Tavern, Order Fire Barbecue, Flying Pig Pub & Kitchen, The Pit BBQ, Aloha Rib Shack, and more.
And then there’s the tent you might almost miss.
Tucked into Brandt Beef Alley, Bebemos Tequila has set up what looks, from the outside, like a fairly unassuming tent. Walk inside, though, and you’ll find a full little speakeasy lounge, complete with a bar and one very dramatic tequila trick. The team lights the shots right in front of you before pouring them straight into guests’ mouths. Candlelight, fire, tequila, barbecue. Suddenly, your casual afternoon tasting has taken a turn.
Grab a plate of Brandt Beef tallow fries, chase it with a pour from Bebemos Tequila or Tap Truck San Diego, and maybe browse Nortte Hats while you recover. The rules are simple: follow the smoke, trust the grill, and maybe don’t make dinner plans afterward.
For the friend who thinks every good afternoon should involve a little sunshine, a cold drink, and nowhere to be, there’s The Beach Zone. Presented by Reef Lifestyle, this laid-back corner brings the San Diego summer fantasy to the Polo Fields, complete with coastal bites, beach-inspired brands, and plenty of reasons to stay awhile.
Grab bites from Duke’s La Jolla, Jake’s Del Mar, Lofty Coffee Co., Dang Brother Pizza Co., and Coral Del Mar, then cool off with Summer Club, Volley, Surfside Iced Tea and Lemonade + Vodka, Tito’s Handmade Vodka, Mezo Mezoritas, Roseade Wine Spritzer, Pinkys, and more. Hemlock Hat Co., Coola, Sambazon, Playavole, Shibumi Shade, Spritz del Conte, and Out of the Woods add a little retail therapy to the mix, because the Grand Tasting obviously needs shopping, too.
And yes, there’s a photo op. Find the teal VW bus from A Timeless Day, gather your favorite people, and pretend you’ve spent the afternoon cruising the California coast instead of wandering around a wine and food festival.
It’s an area filled with surf-inspired games, your next favorite beach accessory, and a drink in hand. Basically, San Diego summer, condensed into one very convenient patch of grass.

Neon boas, glitter-filled drinks, and enough food to make choosing a single dinner impossible. The Pride Zone presented by San Diego Pride is bringing the energy, gathering some of San Diego’s favorite restaurants, bars, breweries, and sweet spots in one very colorful corner of the Polo Fields. Expect bites and beverages from Cary Q Wines, Gossip Grill, Rootdown & Es Okay, T’Maro Brands, and more.
Plant Paradise is your green oasis, but don’t expect it to be particularly peaceful. DJ Tenax returns with house, techno, UKG, and the kind of set that can turn a quick stop into an hour on the open-air dance floor. As Green Air Botanicals sets the mood, grab a cocktail from Mission Craft Cocktails, Makku, or San Hagen Tequila, and a bite from the sprawling lineup of plant-based bites and snacks from some of San Diego’s vegan favorites.
Kindred, Nourish Eats, The Plot, Maya’s Cookies and more. There’s also a full lineup of brands to snack your way through, including Aficio 22, Bücha Hard Kombucha, Nichols Farms, Nuts For Cheese.
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.
SeaWorld dazzles with a drone show, big-name entertainers, new animal adventures and more
Nights are heating up at SeaWorld San Diego. The quintessential summertime staple on Mission Bay is transforming into a destination for unforgettable day-to-night adventures, bringing back some of its most popular Summer Nights programming and introducing exciting new experiences sure to delight both kids and adults alike.

The 2026 Summer Day to Night at SeaWorld San Diego is the park’s most ambitious season yet. SeaWorld has planned a highly anticipated entertainment lineup that features nine weeks of throwback concerts featuring R&B and hip‑hop favorites from the ‘90s and early 2000s, including Jordin Sparks, Too $hort and Warren G, Ashanti, and an array of boy band heartthrobs performing together as part of the Pop 2000 Tour.
New this season is perhaps the park’s most visible update: a nightly drone show, Ocean of Dreams, which illuminates the sky with hundreds of synchronized sparklers. Drones form sea otters, sharks, dolphins, and a majestic orca that tell a breathtaking 12-minute story of marine life and underwater ecosystems. The show culminates with a spectacular electric neon finale celebrating hope, wonder, and ocean stewardship.
Nighttime visitors are also in store for animal adventures that fuse education with high-energy fun and the dreamy ambiance of nighttime. The park has launched two all-new animal presentations: Shamu’s Celebration: Light Up the Night and Dolphins: Touch the Sky. Shamu’s Celebration: Light Up the Night features vibrant lighting, music, and dynamic choreography that celebrates the power and beauty of killer whales. Dolphins: Touch the Sky showcases playful bottlenose dolphins and the special connection between humans and the natural world. And back by popular demand is fan-favorite Sea Lions Tonite. See the charming pinnipeds splash, play, and parody pop culture in this refreshed crowd-pleaser.

More must-sees: a newly reimagined Shark Encounter, one of the country’s more immersive exhibits highlighting 11 different species up close, SeaWorld’s beloved BMX Blast! stunt show, and high-seas escapade, Pirates Ahoy! The Battle for Mermaid Cove. And don’t miss the park’s all-new Deep Sea Disco, which encourages guests to dance the night away under the glow of the SkyTower, and vibrant closing time laser light display Laser Reef Summer Spectacular.
Amp up the nighttime vibe with local craft beers, curated cocktails, and nostalgic theme park treats with $1 beer all summer long. SeaWorld is the place for day to night summer fun. When the sun goes down, SeaWorld lights up, and inspires guests of all ages to embrace their inner whimsy and see why generations of San Diegans head to SeaWorld to make memories they’ll never forget.