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SDM’s staff shouts out our favorite food finds from across the city
Once, the staff of SDM accidentally catered uncooked pasta to the office. We don’t have a stove, so there were many increasingly hangry attempts to microwave, air-fry, and YouTube-hack the stuff into palatability until we accepted defeat. It’s a piece of sad office lore that lives on alongside stories of incredible meals and legendary podcast guests—which is to say, food is serious and silly business here. These 15 dishes fête the wackiness (doctored-up Dr Pepper) and the wonder (a Michelin-approved seabass) of our local cuisine. Go get some.

The first Michelin guide in Mexico awarded six stars total, and Drew Deckman got two of them—one for each of his restaurants in Baja. His new place in North Park (a collab with Joe Musgrove) is a hyper-local, seasonal show of California and Mexico (mostly San Diego and Baja). This dish is essentially a seafood tartare, but with raw Baja oyster chopped and tossed with cubes of sushi-grade striped bass and topped with kaluga caviar and in-season puntarelle. Get Deckman’s chef’s counter experience—he’s got a massive food-nerd brain and loves to talk about each ingredient.

Ever wanted to guzzle a whole rose bouquet at 8 a.m.? No? Well, this latte from downtown café Miracle Potion will change your mind. It’s the ultimate spring reset—floral, earthy, and just caffeinated enough to revive me. I may have accidentally swallowed a rose petal, but my doctor says I’ll live. The color? So pretty, I thought I was getting a gender reveal order by mistake. What a delicious wake-up call in a cup.

A few weeks into my sober 2025, I finally emerged from hibernation for a night out with friends at Panama 66’s regular Wednesday night jazz sesh in Balboa Park. Of the three mocktails on the menu, the Reclining Buddha is everything I want in a drink, minus the booze: a bright mix of orange, lemon, pineapple, and orgeat, topped with dehydrated citrus and the ultimate mixer, ginger beer. One sip in, I wondered why I hadn’t ditched alcohol sooner.

One of the most famous Mexican chefs in the world—Enrique Olvera of Pujol and Cosme and a billion other restaurants—had chef Pancho Ibáñez as his right-hand man for years. Now Ibáñez and his wife, Daniela, are in La Jolla. He’s the chef and she’s the baker of Comedor Nishi, a breakfast and lunch spot in the former Coffee Cup location. It’s not fussy Michelin. It’s homestyle Mexican with a three-star chef’s touch. For this torta, he smashes a baguette down on slightly sweet, axiote-marinated pork and pickled red onion xnipec (an incredible Yucatan salsa).

Last year, I made my way through the French countryside devouring all the breads, cheeses, and wines I could—it was pure bliss. To help satisfy my Francophile cravings, I checked out Et Voilà! in North Park. Along with a robust wine list, the bistro serves homemade pastas, fresh-baked breads, French classics like escargot, and specials such as braised Angus beef short ribs made with garlic potato purée, smoked Brussels sprouts, kale chips, blackberry-bourbon reduction, and black truffles. C’est bon!

My first visit to Fort Oak in Mission Hills came with sky-high expectations after I heard endless praise for the roasted carrots, pork chops, and maple leaf duck. But the real highlight? The ahi tartare, a decadent mix of pickled onion, capers, crispy shallots, cured egg yolk, and smoked oyster mayo atop perfectly toasted brioche. The rich harmony of flavors had me questioning if other food has a taste or if my long Covid is finally cured.

I’m usually a sipper, not a chugger, but the second the “Beach, Please” (Dr Pepper, cherry syrup, vanilla cream) hit my hands at this newish outpost for coffee, cookies, and zhuzhed-up sodas in Point Loma, all dignity evaporated. Honestly? I get why that 106-year-old swore Dr Pepper was the key to immortality (Google it). In 90 years, that’s me—cookie in one hand, dirty soda in the other, cackling at the haters.

This new-ish, Sicilian-inspired spot in Kensington was packed and cacophonous when I snagged a table on a recent Friday night. (Don’t come here to catch up with an old friend. Do come to chit-chat and gossip without inhibition.) The spicy rigatoni vodka, which I topped with a hunk of burrata, was everything I dreamed it would be: zesty but not too hot, creamy but not too rich. The Goldilocks of pasta.

This smoothie’s electric-pink hue (courtesy dragon fruit, with banana, pineapple, coconut milk, and lime as back-up dancers) is eye-catching enough that a man in line cooed, “Ooh, so pretty” as it hit the counter at South Park’s Rad Habits. Plus, waiting for your order is fun here, since you can browse a vast selection of supplements and healthy alts to indulgent snacks (miso Rice Krispies treat, I’m coming back for you).

When this platter of chicken and beef kebabs, skewers, and shawarma arrived, my friends and I gazed in awe at the glorious heap of grilled and seasoned perfection. Within seconds, we tore into it, attempting (and probably failing) to maintain some semblance of manners at this unassuming Syrian gem in the heart of El Cajon’s Middle Eastern restaurant row.
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Listen—it’s a fried chicken sandwich. Hard to go wrong here regardless, but if you, like me, are digging in after an accidental days-long protein deficit, a crispy sando at this laid-back, family-friendly brewery in South Park is going to hit like the first full day of vacation, especially with the sunny addition of pickled chilis. Go on a weekday during happy hour (3–6 p.m.) to add a lager for three bucks extra.

I’m a creature of habit, and gnocchi with pesto alla Genovese is my ultimate weakness. Bencotto in Little Italy nails it. The magic of this pesto lies in the generous use of pine nuts, which help emulsify the garlic, olive oil, and Parmigiano into a herby, viscous sauce rather than a dressing with odd chopped-up basil leaves merely suspended in oil.
After eight years and numerous awards, the cafe and roastery expands its operations in North County
San Diego’s coffee industry has yet to hit its ceiling. There are at least 850 coffee shops across the county (possibly over 1,000 at this point) and more specialty cafes and roasters seem to join the roster every other week.
Some newcomers, like Chance’s Coffee, focus on specialties like Vietnamese coffee; other stalwarts, like Bird Rock Coffee Roasters, have helped put the local coffee scene on the map with internationally acclaimed beans and baristas for 20 years. You can get a classic pour-over or an ultra, whipped cream–topped strawberry lavender basil blueberry matcha latte sprinkled with unicorn glitter—whatever your coffee style, San Diego’s got it… somewhere.
Steady State Roasting falls more in the former category, focusing on traceable, sustainable sourcing and no-nonsense roasting (no unicorn glitter here, sorry!). Founder and lead roaster Elliot Reinecke first started Steady State in a garage behind his house, roasting small batches until expanding slightly to a shared and not-quite-permitted space before landing in a lucky spot on State Street in Carlsbad.
Now, eight years later, Steady State is scaling up once more, opening its second cafe in San Marcos next to their roastery. The new location offers the same food and drink menu as the original Carlsbad location, and Reinecke says he plans to add an onsite bakery to bake items like English muffins and country loaves to supplement Prager Brothers’ more specialized pastries.
He doesn’t plan on opening more cafes, though. Rather, Reinecke plans to expand roasting operations and strategic sourcing. Currently, he sources beans from Colombia, Panama, across Africa, and as of this year, Costa Rica. “We’ve had Costa Rican coffee before, but we went to origin a few months ago and bought six different lots from there, all from really good high-end local farmers,” he explains.
The rising cost of sourcing does present some challenges, as does changes within coffee culture itself. Coffee has moved from a mass-market beverage to a highly personalized artisanal experience, but the current feeling is moving back towards focusing on quality over flashiness, says Reinecke.
If Reinecke’s prediction is right, coffee is headed on a similar trajectory to craft beer. Ten years ago, no one knew what Citra hops were. Now, even casual beer fans are versed in hop varieties, and that attention to detail is spilling over to coffee as well. How many of San Diego’s 1,000 coffee shops will remain once the unicorn glitter’s luster fades? My bet is on anyone remaining steadfast to sourcing, sustainability, and simplicity.
Steady State San Marcos is now open at 1320 Grand Avenue, Suite #9, San Marcos. Initial operating hours are Tuesday through Saturday, 7 a.m. to 2 p.m.
Listen Now: The Latest in San Diego’s Food and Drink Scene
Have breaking news, exciting scoops, or great stories about new San Diego restaurants or the city’s food scene? Send your pitches to [email protected].
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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.
The team behind Harumama and Blue Ocean will open Little Kiki Katsu & More on June 15, serving premium cutlets, Japanese sandos, and curated sake pairings
Every culture has its own comfort foods—cozy dishes that nurture the soul as much as the body. In the US, dipping a grilled cheese sandwich in a bowl of tomato soup can feel as satiating as pulling a warm sweater out of the dryer. In China, a steaming bowl of congee is basically a miracle remedy for anything you can imagine. I’m pretty sure Italian carbonara could achieve world peace. And in Japan, katsu remains one of the most universally satisfying inventions of the past century.
Katsu was originally invented as a riff on côtelette de veau, the classic French veal cutlet coated with breadcrumbs and pan-fried in butter. In 1899, a Western-style restaurant called Rengatei in Tokyo decided to put their own spin on the dish by pounding the cutlets until thin, then coating them with softer panko and deep-frying versus pan frying (like tempura) for a crispier, lighter, crunchier bite. Today, pork—called tonkatsu in Japanese—tends to be the most common base for katsu.
The dish has yet to achieve the same mainstream status as say, chicken nuggets, in the US. But Little Kiki Katsu & More hopes to change that, when the katsu-focused restaurant opens in Carlsbad on June 15.
Created by the team behind Harumama and Blue Ocean, Little Kiki will focus on premium katsu dishes paired with sake and around a dozen small bites like miso soup, karaage, edamame, and Japanese pickles. Executive chef James Pyo, who co-owns all three restaurants with his wife Jenny, created a menu that features proteins like Berkshire Kurobuta pork, Jidori chicken, salmon, scallops, and dry-aged Pacific cod for the katsu and grilled stone selections. (Note: the grilled stone options will be offered for dinner only.)

The lunch menu includes Japanese-style sandos like a tonkatsu sandwich with pork, housemade bread, and tonkatsu sauce (available regular or spicy). Dessert options are simple to start—yuzu cheesecake, matcha crème brûlée, and mango/yuzu mochi ice cream. The Pyos curated a selection of premium sakes as well, specifically for pairing purposes, as well as offering some beer and cocktails.
Little Kiki, which is named for Jenny’s cat, seats 25-30 guests inside with room for only a few more on the small outdoor patio as well. Designer and assistant Yoojin Jang says the vibe is meant to be warm and welcoming but modern, using colors like olive green, cream, and pops of orange against Japanese-style wood slats.
Initially, Little Kiki will only be open for dinner service, but aims to introduce lunch hours for the grand opening on July 1. Due to the limited seating, Jang encourages guests to make reservations, and while the restaurant will offer takeout, it will not be available on food delivery apps like Uber Eats or DoorDash to motivate guests to come experience it for themselves.
“Come in curious and leave satisfied,” says Jang. And keep your eyes open for subtle cat motifs—she promises they are hidden all over the place. Whimsy, it seems, is also on the menu.
Little KiKi Katsu & More soft opens on June 15, 2026 at 2958 Madison Street, Suite 101 in Carlsbad. Hours are Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Sunday from 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. for lunch and 5 p.m. to 9:30 p.m. for dinner; Friday and Saturday from 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. for lunch and 5 p.m. to 10 p.m. for dinner; closed Tuesday.

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.
Telefèric Barcelona will open its first San Diego location early this summer
Westfield UTC mall is adding yet another “first” to the ever-growing roster of restaurants. The first US location for China’s stir-fry sensation Chef Fei is on the way later this year, Japan already reinvented crispy rice pioneer Katsuya by opening the first Katsuya Ko, and now, it’s Spain’s turn—Telefèric Barcelona opens early this summer.
The family-owned, Barcelona-based tapas joint first opened in the US 10 years ago in Walnut Creek, California, but co-founder and CEO Xavi Padrosa says they’ve had their eye on San Diego for years. Westfield UTC “just clicked,” he says, pointing to the burgeoning collection of world-class eateries already within the mall’s walls. Plus, La Jolla’s breezy vibe echoes Spain’s easygoing tapas culture.
The indoor/outdoor space spans 5,526-square-feet, with seating for 150 inside, 60 on the patio, and 16 more at the bar. Xavi’s sister and co-owner Maria Padrosa designed the Mediterranean-inspired space as a contemporary take on coastal Catalonia, using imported furniture and materials from Spain like hand-glazed tiles and wood accents. And if all the dining spaces are planets, the center of the suite’s universe is the bar.

Padrosa points to signature favorites like patatas bravas (fried potatoes drizzled with a spicy red sauce and house aioli), jamón ibérico de bellota (Spanish ham from free-range pigs raised on acorns, cured for 38 months and sliced to order), gambas al ajillo (garlic shrimp), pulpo Telefèric (octopus with potato purée and pimentón XO, a spicy Spanish/Cantonese fusion sauce), and croquetas (a popular fried tapas dish coated in breadcrumbs and made with béchamel mixed with fillings like jamón or king crab.
There are a very small handful of legit paella spots in San Diego (Costa Brava in Pacific Beach and Cafe Sevilla in Gaslamp Quarter come to mind), so I’m personally looking forward to giving Telefèric’s a go—especially the squid ink paella negra, which is perhaps the most goth paella of all. Every location also offers different weekend specials, La Jolla’s being seafood-driven and meant to pair with beverage director Alex Serena’s drinks. There are over a hundred Spanish wines, Spanish-inspired cocktails, sangria, and of course, plenty of twists on the iconic gin and tonic. The restaurant will also have a gourmet market called The Merkat with imported Spanish sundries.

With more US locations in the works (Newport Beach will open soon after La Jolla), Padrosa says the company hopes to open more across California, but are open to anywhere in the country that feels right. “We don’t know exactly what new cities will appear on our map in the coming years,” he says. But in true Catalan fashion, anywhere they go should be ready for big plates of hearty Spanish cuisine.
Telefèric Barcelona La Jolla opens early summer 2026 in Westfield UTC. Opening hours will be Monday through Thursday, 11:30 a.m. to 10 p.m.; Friday and Saturday, 11:30 a.m. to 11 p.m.; and Sunday, 11 a.m. to 10 p.m.

Most of the time, you have to be 18 years old to change your name. In Arcana’s case, it was about a month. The immersive speakeasy behind Archive in Encinitas updated their moniker to Animga (a play on “enigma”) earlier this month, after what one can only assume was an upset letter from a similarly-named business. However, partner Paula Vrakas promises that the concept remains the same—mystery, cocktails, and a forthcoming bottle locker membership club. Since the only constant is change, Anigma is off to a good start!

Listen Now: The Latest in San Diego’s Food and Drink Scene
Have breaking news, exciting scoops, or great stories about new San Diego restaurants or the city’s food scene? Send your pitches to [email protected].
Beth Demmon is an award-winning writer and podcaster whose work regularly appears in national outlets and San Diego Magazine. Her first book, The Beer Lover's Guide to Cider, is now available. Find out more on bethdemmon.com.
The 29-year-old culinary director at Herb & Sea is making seafood sexy (and approachable) again
Implementing a farm-to-table model hardly deserves acknowledgement these days. It’s not a stretch. It’s not innovative. “It’s the bare f**king minimum,” says Herb & Sea‘s executive chef Aidan Owens.
When I arrive at the Encinitas restaurant, I’m ready to talk sustainability, farm-to-table stuff, with Owens. “Did you see the chin on that?” he says of the extra big jiggly chin on the sheephead that just arrived with the day’s fresh catch. I did. It was Jay Leno adjacent.
I learn quickly that he somehow oozes both charm and stone-cold honesty. Maybe he could construct a new dish with chin goo, like he did when he had a bunch of tuna scraps and voila’d it into a smooth and crowd-pleasing ‘nduja. “I want to know what’s in there,” he says.

The instinct to look closer, to dig into what others might discard, says a lot about the chef’s approach. I guide him back to our topic, but he has something else on his mind. “We’re overcomplicating food—what happened to just cooking good food and having fun with it?”
Owens grew up on a farm in Byron Bay, Australia, where sustainability wasn’t a concept you chat about so much as a way of life. Think dirt roads, backyard chickens, pulling vegetables straight from the ground, and a mother who believed that if you couldn’t pronounce the ingredients on a package, you shouldn’t eat what was inside.
Food wasn’t precious or performative. Making it was what you did because you were hungry and that’s still what inspires Owens today. “I like to cook good food because I like to eat good food,” he says.
His approach to sustainability at Herb & Sea began so naturally that it felt just like instinct. “I was just like, ‘Let’s order food from the people who live and work here,’” he says.

And why wouldn’t he when lives in San Diego? Cities all over the world vie for our goods. Our tuna is sent overseas. Our spiny lobsters hit dinner plates in China and Japan. Not to mention California’s producing a third of the country’s vegetables and three-quarters of its fruits and nuts.
“Why would we outsource when it’s all here?” Owens asks.
Sustainability, in this context, is about cooking what exists in abundance, nearby, right now. “I love the local fish here. It’s f**king delicious and San Diego citrus, I mean, it is so f**ing good,” he says.
Instead of importing ingredients, Owens also looks for nearby alternatives. “You can find really cool things in the local waters,” he says, pointing out that stingray cheeks taste similar to scallops.

Whatever he finds in that sheephead chin might just be the next substitute for marrow. But to make this work, it means getting diners amped up about the slightly unfamiliar.
Tasting menus, where diners are completely in his hands, become an opportunity to gently push boundaries. “I’ll serve mackerel, because people think they hate it,” Owens says, noting that the abundant local fish can have some fishiness. “But when it’s fresh, it’s arguably one of the best fish in the ocean.”
He also tweaks the language on the menu so people might feel more compelled to give dishes a try without preconceived notions. He might use “lengua” instead of “tongue.” “Whelk” instead of “snail.” When he puts “stingray throat” on the menu, he disarmingly calls it “skate.”
To reduce waste, scraps aren’t always discarded but rather turned into something new. Sometimes they’re smoked, cured or fermented. Apples going bad turn into apple ponzu. Lemons turn to marmalade, which stretches their usefulness far beyond peak season. “And it’s super tasty on our pizza,” he says.
What makes the food even richer, is the relationships he’s built with farmers. Though it didn’t always feel natural, Owens sought personal connection first. He recalls approaching a fisherman at the Tuna Harbor Dockside Market. “I was awkward,” he says. “I went up to him and said, ‘I like your fish.’”
Owen’s is now so close to his suppliers—like fishermen Ryan Sebo and Joe Daly—that he gets texted pictures of fresh catches right as they flop on the boat. The messages always ask if he wants first dibs. “I say yes to a lot of fish,” Owens says, noting that Herb & Sea can go through 2,000 pounds of seafood a week.

The next evolution of sustainability, in his view, will be chefs working directly with producers such as his alliance with Sebo, cutting out middlemen and purveyors where possible. “It will put more money in the pockets of the people doing the work,” he says.
It will mean that chefs can’t just know their local farmers and producers, but they’ll choose to work with the ones who have the best practices. Dining and sustainability will become much less about the final plate. “It will be more about the impact that plate has on the Earth,” he says.
Ultimately, he believes sustainability doesn’t need to be loud. It doesn’t need hashtags. It just needs to be honest.
“We aren’t saving lives. We’re feeding people good food,” he says.
And yet, in feeding people well—simply, thoughtfully, responsibly—something meaningful happens. Guests leave satisfied. Ingredients are respected. Local ecosystems are supported and food returns to what it has always been at its core: nourishment, pleasure, and a quiet reflection of the place it comes from.
No buzzwords required.
From San Diego’s coastline to Los Angeles stadium and fan zones across the region, here’s how to experience soccer’s biggest event
When three nations and 16 cities come together to host the FIFA World Cup 2026, the scale stops feeling like a tournament and starts feeling like geography. A continent becomes the stage as borders soften into corridors. And Southern California—shaped by migration, sport, entertainment, and constant movement—sits inside that landscape with all eyes on it.
San Diego and Los Angeles have always felt connected. Hop on the Pacific Surfliner, and the trip unfolds in one continuous stretch of coastline, passing beach towns, neighborhoods, and city centers.
Traveling from San Diego, everything still feels slightly suspended as the Pacific Surfliner follows the coast north with ocean on one side and a slow suburban blur on the other. San Diego stays in exhale. Los Angeles is already building toward something louder.
This summer, Los Angeles will host eight matches of the FIFA World Cup at Los Angeles Stadium, including the US Men’s National Team opener on June 11, while the region stretches into 39 days of programming across stadiums, parks, transit hubs, beaches, and neighborhoods. Instead of one massive fan hub, Los Angeles is embracing a citywide celebration, with fan zones spread across its entirety.
But this pattern has been rehearsed here for decades. In 1994, Southern California became one of the defining stages of the World Cup, when matches at the Rose Bowl placed global attention on the region and turned local stadiums into international landmarks, confirming its ability to hold the world at scale.
What distinguishes Southern California is not just infrastructure, but cultural permeability. Fashion, music, film, art, and sport constantly overlap here, creating an environment where identity is flexible and always in motion. From the Venice boardwalk, where skate culture shaped modern street style, to global soccer stars rubbing shoulders with Hollywood celebs, to authentic Spanish cuisine moving up and down the I-5 corridor, everything circulates.
The World Cup is not introducing anything new here, it’s showing up for the summer and showing out, revealing what this city has always known about itself. What follows is a look at the fan zones and how Los Angeles turns itself into a city-wide stage for the tournament, one neighborhood at a time.

As the heart of Los Angeles, Union Station is an official Fan Zone June 25-28 during the World Cup, but in practice it never really stops being one.
It is the city’s circulation point, its meeting ground, its pressure valve. Commuters, travelers, match-day crowds, and everyday Angelenos all move through the same space, and everything mixes, overlaps, and scales in real time. In a way, this is where the World Cup stops arriving in Los Angeles and starts moving through it.
The Pacific Surfliner from San Diego to Los Angeles makes that shift feel almost too easy. No stress or gridlock anxiety, just a straight line up the coastline with ocean on one side and everything slowly becoming more built on the other. It’s one of the rare ways into LA that doesn’t feel like arrival as friction. You can sit with a laptop, watch the Pacific drift past, grab coffee from the café car, and let the city come to you in pieces.
That’s the beauty of arriving at Union Station. Instead of feeling like you’re on the edge of the city, you’re immediately surrounded by it. And, inside, the station already reads like a World Cup nerve center: banners, movement, multilingual energy, the sense that something global is about to funnel through this exact point. The Heart of the City Fan Zone only sharpens that feeling, with simultaneous match screens, DJ sets, meet and greets, and immersive activations built around marquee games like USA vs. Türkiye.
From there, the city splits outward.
ROW DTLA feels like the first exhale after arrival. A converted industrial campus turned creative district where restaurants, retail, and open-air courtyards form a self-contained ecosystem. If you’re looking for the perfect first meal in LA, make it lunch at Pizzeria Bianco. The thin-crust pizza is reason enough to go, but the space leaves just as much of an impression.
What I liked most about ROW DTLA is how quickly it resets you after the train. One minute you are stepping off at Union Station, and the next you are in a space that feels like its own version of LA, a city inside a city with some of the most curated shopping I’ve ever seen.
Bodega hides itself behind a convenience-store front, a sneaker and streetwear space disguised as something ordinary, like LA refusing to make anything feel too obvious. The whole campus moves like that, part retail, part gallery, part neighborhood you are only temporarily inside.
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.
Talking farm to table, fraud-to-table, and the feasibility of the movement with the beloved restaurateur who saw it all
Garden Kitchen was special. During its seven-year run on a quiet street in Rolando, even the farmiest-to-table devotees were pointing to chef-owner Coral Strong and slow-clapping. When the restaurant’s lease was up without the option to renew, which forced her to close in 2022, Strong wasn’t sure what to do next.
Farm-to-table wasn’t new by any means—chef Alice Waters spawned the movement at her pioneering restaurant Chez Panisse in Berkeley in the early ‘70s, and many San Diego chefs did it right. But by the mid-2000s, the idea had been so co-opted by the mainstream that the meaning was almost completely lost.
“In the beginning, I used to get very honestly angry and upset when I would go to other restaurants that were claiming they were farm-to-table, but knowing some of the chefs or prep cooks inside [telling me] ‘Oh no, that comes from Restaurant Depot,’” she says.
Food critic Troy Johnson’s cover story in 2015 documented the fraud, titled “Farm to Fable.” At Garden Kitchen, Strong only used produce and meat sourced from local San Diego farms—an honorable, if not arduous endeavor.
Strong grew up in Cardiff before her parents moved the family to Costa Rica in 1989. They’d bounce between the two countries for months at a time, but when they lived in a motel by the beach while building their own house, she witnessed an incredibly tight-knit food culture. “As a Latin American country, everyone kind of cooks together,” she says. Everyone chopped, prepped, prepared, and served as a unit. “[That] definitely shaped my adolescence as to how I thought about food and the community of food.”

When her father, a commercial fisherman, brought the family back to San Diego, Strong leaned into an entrepreneurial streak, moving from coffee to accounting and eventually bartending to pay the bills. But food remained a passion, especially after she met her future husband, who introduced her to his Be Wise CSA and the wonderful world of truly fresh, farm-grown vegetables.
“We were just always disappointed with the vegetables out at restaurants and were like, ‘Why can’t they just make vegetables taste good?” she wondered. She realized that despite having more small farms than any other county in the country, most restaurants in San Diego simply weren’t using local ingredients.
So she decided to do it herself.
Strong opened Garden Kitchen without any formal culinary training—just a commitment to getting the freshest vegetables, meat, fruits, and other produce onto people’s plates. Her first chef quit within a month, telling her it was impossible. “So I got in the kitchen one day and said, ‘I can do this, let’s figure it out.’ I taught myself how to cook.”
She already had connections with farmers, fishermen, and ranchers, and designed a different menu almost daily based on what she could get. “My farmers sometimes delivered in the middle of dinner service,” she laughs.
Garden Kitchen lasted until after the pandemic, but before the current economy cut into already razor-thin margins. Could Garden Kitchen exist today? She’s not sure.
“The biggest thing right now is just looking at the finances and how expensive it is,” says Strong. “Obviously, the cost of food is up right now, gas is crazy right now… it just crushes you.” Despite that, she believes that committing to the true farm-to-table ethos is as easy as one decides to make it.
“If you think it’s hard to order directly from your farmer, if you don’t understand the absolute pleasure in doing that and you’d rather order from a computer, then that’s your own difficulty,” she says. “People say they’re into it, but are they willing to make the effort like I am, to drive an hour to go get my meat, or drive 35 minutes to go to my farm to go pick it up? I don’t know.”
Today, Strong works as a private chef, hosts pop-ups, and offers catering services, all still using seasonally available ingredients from San Diego. And while she has no intentions of opening another restaurant, she says we might see even more of her in the future.
“I have a large property [in Valley Center], and let’s say that there will be more of my food to come,” she promises.

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.
Scripps study shows that some patients may be able to taper their dose and maintain results
While glucagon-like peptide-1 (GLP-1) receptor agents have been used to treat Type 2 diabetes for more than 20 years, their recent emergence as weight-loss wonder drugs marked a new frontier in medicine. But their effectiveness has left some patients wondering what to do once they’ve reached their goal. Stopping the medication could mean regaining some, if not all, of the weight. A Scripps Clinic internal medicine physician recently conducted a small study of whether GLP-1 patients who had reached their goal weight could maintain that weight by taking their regularly prescribed injection every other week instead of weekly. Spoiler alert: 30 of 34 patients did. Read more about the study here and what that may mean as pharmaceutical companies roll out oral GLP-1s.
For more nutrition, wellness, and healthy living tips, sign up for the San Diego Health newsletter here.